My Sister Stole My Mate, And I Let Her

Chapter 515 HOMECOMING

SERAPHINA’S POVThe trip back to Nightfang passed in a blur that my mind refused to stitch together properly.

There were moments I remembered in fragments rather than in sequence—the low hum of engines beneath us, the occasional shudder of the aircraft as it carried us away from the island, the distant sound of people speaking in subdued voices that never quite resolved into meaning.

I remember Kieran’s hand in mine for most of it, firm and grounding, as though he feared that if he loosened his grip even slightly, I might evaporate into nothing.

Exhaustion had sunk into my bones in a way I didn’t think sleep could fix.

It wasn’t ordinary tiredness. It was the hollowed-out kind that came after too many thresholds between life and death, after too many hours spent holding yourself together through sheer force of will.

My body felt like it had forgotten what rest even was. My mind, worse still, seemed unwilling to believe in safety as a concept.

When the gates of Nightfang finally rose into view, towering and familiar against the night, something inside me tightened.

We were back.

And yet, I didn’t feel like I had returned anywhere at all.

The grand gates opened with ceremonial ease, iron and stone parting to let us roll into the heart of the packhouse grounds.

Lanterns were lit due to the late hour, their warm glow spilling across pathways lined with stone and trimmed hedges, as though the place had been waiting in quiet vigilance for our arrival.

I should have felt relief. I should have felt that familiar comfort of homecoming.

Instead, there was only numbness.

I knew the war had ended. I knew Catherine’s influence had been severed. I knew, for all intents and purposes, we were safe.

But knowing and feeling were no longer the same language.

It was an unsettling reminder that even safety could feel unfamiliar after enough chaos.

We came to a stop.

The doors opened.

And the world outside rushed in.

Nightfang had gathered—Gavin stood near the steps with a rigid posture softened slightly by the exhaustion of holding things together in Kieran’s absence.

Christian stood beside him, arms folded, eyes scanning us all with a sharpness that suggested he was still half-prepared for bad news.

Leona stood a little further back, composed as always, though the tension around her mouth betrayed how long she had been holding herself steady.

Ethan and Maya were back in Frostbane for the night, but I knew I would see them tomorrow.

Several other pack members were peering through windows and balconies, hoping for a glimpse of the survivors returning from something that had threatened to devour us all.

For a moment, I simply stood in front of the car, unsure whether I had the strength to take another step.

Then I heard it: a bright voice cutting clean through the heaviness like a blade of light.

“Mom! Dad!”

The sound cracked something open inside me, and my head snapped toward it instinctively.

Daniel blurred across the space between us, his arms outstretched, his entire being radiating a happiness that blotted out all else.

And suddenly, I could breathe again.

I dropped to my knees before I even realized I was moving.

He crashed into me, arms wrapping around my neck with a force that was entirely disproportionate to his size.

I caught him easily, pulling him into my chest, my hands trembling as they found his back.

The moment he was in my arms, that something broke open completely, in a quieter, gentler way than it had on the island.

“Oh my baby,” I whispered. “Hi.”

He clung to me tightly, his face buried against my shoulder.

“You came back,” he said, voice shaky but certain, as though it had ever been in question.

A lump formed in my throat so thick I nearly couldn’t answer.

“I promised I would,” I managed, blinking hard against the sting in my eyes.

He pulled back just enough to look at me properly, his hands still gripping my sleeves as if letting go might erase the image.

Then he frowned.

“You look like shit,” he declared with the blunt honesty only a child could get away with.

For a moment, I just stared at him.

Then I laughed.

It came out of me unexpectedly, sharp and breathy and real in a way I didn’t think I still knew how to feel.

I pulled him back into me, holding him tighter.

“I missed you so much,” I murmured into his hair.

“I also came back alive, in case anyone cares,” Kieran drawled from beside me.

Daniel pulled away, laughing as he flung himself into his father’s arms.

Kieran caught him effortlessly, lifting him in the air.

“Hi, bud,” he murmured.

“Thank you for coming back,” Daniel whispered. “Both of you.”

I blinked back the sudden onslaught of tears and stood from my crouch.

The rest of the greetings began in earnest.

Words were exchanged, but the details blurred together.

There were questions I couldn’t fully answer yet. Conversations I couldn’t fully follow. Too many pieces of the aftermath still hadn’t settled into place.

Eventually, Leona’s voice rose above the conversations, calm and firm enough that everyone fell silent without being asked.

“That’s enough for tonight. You’re all exhausted, and whatever debriefing needs to happen can wait until morning.”

Her gaze softened as it moved over us.

“I’ll have dinner brought up. You freshen up, eat, and rest. That is not a suggestion.”

No one argued.

The movement back into the packhouse felt automatic, like the body remembering a route the mind no longer had energy to supervise.

Voices faded behind us. Footsteps echoed softly along polished stone floors. The warmth of the interior wrapped around us like something both familiar and unreal.

Kieran stayed beside me the entire time.

We didn’t need to speak. There was a kind of understanding between us now that went beyond language entirely, something formed in fire and collapse and too many moments where words would have failed anyway.

When we reached our room, I barely registered the door closing behind us.

The only thing that existed was the weight of Kieran’s gaze on me as he gently, wordlessly began to undress me.

My clothes were still stained with the remnants of everything we had survived, and I didn’t resist as he removed them, fingers steady when mine were not.

Each movement was carried out delicately, as if every zipper pulled down and every button undone was an act of returning me to myself, piece by piece.

I helped him in turn, stripping away the same exhaustion from him, until we were both reduced to something simpler, something human again.

He guided me into the bathroom without a word.

Steam began to rise almost immediately as he turned on the bath. The sound of running water filled the space in a soft, steady rhythm that felt almost too normal after everything.

When it was ready, Kieran helped me in first.

The heat enveloped me slowly, easing into muscles that had spent too long being wound tight.

I sank into the tub with a content exhale, my eyes closing as the scent of lavender and cedarwood drifted through the air.

Kieran joined me a moment later, settling behind me and drawing me back against his chest, his arms wrapping around me.

For a while, neither of us spoke. The water lapped gently around us, steam curling at the edges of my vision.

I let my head rest back against him fully. I could feel his breath against my shoulder, steady and strong, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, my body began to unclench.

Eventually, my voice broke the silence, barely audible.

“Do you believe it’s really over?”

Kieran didn’t answer immediately.

I could feel him thinking rather than simply responding, as though he understood the weight behind what I was asking. Not just about Catherine. Not just about the island.

About everything.

About whether anything in our lives would ever truly stop breaking long enough to let us breathe.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low.

“I believe,” he said carefully, “that whatever comes next, we can face it. Just like we faced this.”

I turned slightly in his arms and laced my fingers with his beneath the water.

I lifted our joined hands and pressed them to my lips. I felt his sigh against my back.

Then I turned my head to look at him fully.

A small smile formed on my face—tired, but real.

“So...” I began softly, letting the word stretch between us as something lighter began to return, however faintly. “Royalty, huh? You’re telling me I have to settle for Luna when I could’ve been a queen?”

The corner of his mouth twitched, as though he had been trying not to smile for longer than he wanted to admit.

And for the first time since everything had ended, I felt something that wasn’t a fight for survival.

Something that might have been peace, if I dared to call it that.