My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 121

Chapter 121: Chapter 121 SCHEDULED DOSE OF POISON

SERAPHINA’S POV

I could tell Judy was still wound tight long after we’d left the hotel.

She walked stiffly beside me all the way to OTS, her jaw clenched, shoulders hunched as though Brynjar’s shadow still lingered at her back.

“Come on,” I said gently, catching her wrist before she could retreat into the building and probably wallow in the dorms. “We’re not ending the night like this.”

Her wide, uncertain eyes flicked to mine. “Sera, I—”

“No arguments.” I tugged her down a side street, toward a small café that stayed open late for students and guests alike.

The glow from inside spilled across the pavement, warm and welcoming. “You need something sweet after a bitter experience like that.” I shot her a smile, which she reluctantly returned. “My treat.”

We slid into a booth by the window. The scent of baked bread and caramel clung to the air, calming and indulgent.

Judy hesitated only a moment before ordering a slice of chocolate cake so rich it looked sinful. I went with my actual favorite dessert—strawberry cheesecake, light enough to keep the heaviness of the evening at bay.

For a while, we ate in silence. The sugar did its work, loosening the knot of tension between us.

When Judy finally set her fork down, her hands shook faintly.

“Thank you,” she murmured, not looking at me. “If you hadn’t shown up tonight—if you hadn’t stepped in—that would have gone horribly wrong. Brynjar would’ve had his way, and I would’ve been disqualified. Everything I worked for would’ve been gone.”

I hated how right she was. No one was standing up for her when we walked in. Sure, Brynjar was an asshole, but he held more power than Judy, and that was what people only ever really saw.

I leaned forward, placing a hand over hers. “You held your own in there; that was pretty impressive.”

She scoffed self-deprecatingly. “I was terrified,” she confessed. “I was truly considering cutting my losses and just accepting the blame so that the nightmare would end.” She shook her head. “That bastard really had me believing it was a mistake to have ever joined OTS.”

“Hey,” I said softly, but firmly enough to hold her gaze. “You fought hard to be here. You earned this chance, Judy. Don’t let anyone—least of all a brawn-for-brains like Brynjar—make you believe otherwise.”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, eyes glistening. “My family...we’ve never had much. Omegas in our pack are always expected to bow, to serve, to fade into the background. But if I perform well in this tournament, even if I don’t win, it could change things for them. Give us a little more standing. Maybe my younger brother won’t get pushed around at training. Maybe my mother won’t have to work herself to the bone.”

Her words pierced me, sharp and familiar. That desperate hope, I knew it intimately. “Then we’ll make sure you get that chance,” I said quietly. “No one is taking it from you.”

She looked up then, and for the first time since Brynjar, the faint smile that flickered across her lips was genuine.

But it didn’t last. Her expression grew conflicted, and she pulled her hand out of mine, twisting her napkin between her fingers.

“I need to confess something.”

I tilted my head, leaning back. “Go on.”

“Back when you first arrived,” she said haltingly, “I thought you didn’t deserve to be here. I thought you’d gotten in because of connections—because of Lucian, or the Lockwoods, or the Blackthornes. Jessica and her group...” She hesitated, guilt flashing across her face. “They made you out to be arrogant. Useless. And I believed them.”

A familiar sting cut through me, but I kept my face neutral.

“But after today,” she rushed on, “after seeing how you handled Brynjar, after watching the way people listened to you... I realized they were wrong. You—” She faltered, cheeks flushing. “You draw people in without even trying. You effortlessly command respect. Even without a wolf form. That’s...magnetic. And rare.”

Heat rose to my cheeks despite myself. Compliments still sat strangely on my shoulders, especially when they caught me off guard. “Judy...”

She shook her head firmly. “I mean it. You saved me tonight. And you didn’t even have to.”

Her head dipped. “I’m sorry for judging you without knowing you.”

“Hey.”

She looked up, and I held her gaze, something soft blooming in my chest. “Maybe you had the wrong impression before. But you’re willing to see past that to the real me.” I smiled. “That matters more.”

The air between us shifted, lighter, warmer. A seed had been planted—one that could grow into something stronger than mere acquaintance.

For the first time, I thought of Judy not just as another student or an ally by circumstance, but as a friend.

When we finally parted ways outside the café, she hugged me briefly. “Thank you again, Sera,” she whispered before hurrying off with renewed determination in her step.

I lingered in the night air, smiling faintly to myself. But the warmth didn’t last.

Because that’s when I heard her voice.

“Touching.”

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