My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 132

Chapter 132: Chapter 132 HER DREAM

LUCIAN’S POV

The following morning, I was back at OTS before the sun had fully crested the horizon.

The compound still hummed from last night’s spectacle—echoes of voices, whispered disbelief over the Moon Dew Nectar, air charged with a promise too big to ignore.

Even in its quiet hours, the place felt alive, pulsing like a heart that beat in rhythm with my own ambition.

I didn’t allow myself too much time to bask in it. There was a lot to do.

With the preliminary rounds looming closer, my desk was littered with reports, schedules, and last-minute revisions.

I moved through them with brisk precision, my pen slashing signatures across pages, my voice sharp and commanding as I dictated responses to my staff.

Every detail mattered. Every piece had to fall perfectly into place.

But even as I leaned over the glowing monitors, watching the Arena, my focus slipped. The rigid control over my thoughts loosened in that brief reprieve.

And then she was all I could see.

Zara.

Once one thought slipped past my mind’s blockade, more followed. For once, I didn’t resist. I closed my eyes and let the wave wash over me.

The twinkling music of her laughter, the bright sparkle of her eyes, the searing ache of her touch.

It felt so wrong that I was here, making all these preparations, without her.

After all, OTS had been her dream as much as it was mine.

I remembered her perched on the edge of the table in one of these conference rooms, gesturing wildly with her hands as she described how she wanted the Arena to feel: grand, yes, but not suffocating; dangerous, but not reckless.

A place where warriors would be tested to the marrow of their bones, yet also given the stage to prove their worth before the world.

Her passion had been a storm I willingly walked into; her brilliance had ignited me in a way nothing before or after her had.

My eyes tracked the latest projection of the Arena’s layout—pillars rising like ancient monuments, shadows cut sharp across the sand, the faint shimmer of protective wards designed to heighten the trial’s intensity.

I could almost hear her voice again, teasing, insistent, challenging. I could imagine her next to me, peering over my shoulder.

‘Perfect, Luc,’ she would whisper, pressing her lips to my temple. ‘It’s perfect.’

But then—just as suddenly as the ghost appeared—Zara faded, leaving behind an unfortunately familiar hollow ache.

In her absence, Seraphina’s face surfaced, vivid and inescapable.

It happened without my consent—a cruel trick of my mind.

And of course, like I’d been doing since I met Sera, I began to compare them.

Sera didn’t burn with the same fever Zara had, no. But her quiet strength, her refusal to bow even when the world had all but broken her, lit something fierce, determined, unyielding in me. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

This time, thinking of Zara—and the way I measured Sera against her—didn’t wound me as it once had. Something like...acceptance murmured beneath the old ache.

It still carried weight, but the sharp sting of grief had dulled into something quieter, almost reverent.

I would always carry her in the bones of this place, in the very fabric of my soul. But the radiance OTS was about to witness would not belong to Zara.

It would belong to Sera.

And soon, so would I.

Still, unless the opportune moment arose, I would keep her true purpose—her true power—veiled.

Sera’s role in this legacy was not for careless speculation or the greedy whispers of rivals.

The truth about her would be revealed when I decided the world was ready—when she was ready.

I straightened, rolling the tension from my shoulders. I’d slipped into my mind for far too long; I needed to rein in my thoughts and refocus on what mattered.

I exhaled slowly and dragged my attention back to the present, letting the rhythm of order steady me.

Fingers skimmed across the table’s surface, pulling up the next set of reports, my mind snapping into the familiar cadence of logistics and command. The hum of screens, the shuffle of staff, the low crackle of intercoms—these were my anchors, and I let them pull me back into motion.

The work, for all its weight, was strangely fulfilling.

The closer we came to the opening of the tournament, the more I felt OTS aligning—not just with Zara’s vision, but with my own.

The edges had been honed sharper, the foundations deepened. It was becoming something worthy of the legacy it was meant to bear.

By the time I dismissed the last aide, my temples ached with fatigue. I loosened the cuffs of my sleeves and leaned back, finally letting exhaustion creep in—

The door burst open, and a young staffer nearly stumbled inside, chest heaving, eyes wide with panic. “Alpha Reed! There’s—there’s a crisis!”

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