My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 135

Chapter 135: Chapter 135 THE MISTY WOODS

SERAPHINA’S POV

All the Arenas were clever illusions and simulations. But it was hard to remember that when we stepped into the Misty Woods.

It breathed like a living thing, and every step forward pulled us deeper into its lungs. The fog swirled thicker until the world dulled into muted grays and greens.

The air clung to my skin with a dampness that seeped beneath my jacket, the bitter tang of herbs stinging the back of my throat.

Somewhere above, I sensed the outline of the sun trying and failing to burn through the haze. Its light was scattered like shards of glass.

We’d been carefully and explicitly given the rules at the gate, but I’d simplified it in my head, reciting those, too, like incantations: three Moonstone Shards, twelve hours, finish line.

The first nine teams would pass. The rest would be out of the competition.

The fog was supposed to be crucial to the trial—a concoction brewed from a blend of ground herbs that tampered with the mind and senses.

It blurred vision, muffled scent trails, distorted balance.

For most wolves, it was crippling.

But not for me. Not really.

The ache of loss knotted sharp in my chest as I thought of it—of her. My wolf.

She would’ve probably hated this fog, would’ve snarled against the confusion it spun.

But without her, my senses were stripped down to human dullness. The fog rolled in, but it found little to corrupt. I was spared the worst of its bite.

So were the others—Omegas, whose wolves weren’t strong enough to register much of the interference in the first place.

Talia, though still fidgeting nervously, didn’t stumble as others did in the distance. Finn moved with a strange steadiness, his hand brushing against tree trunks as though cataloguing them in his mind.

Even Judy, though her wolf twitched at the edges, seemed unbothered.

The irony wasn’t lost on me.

Lucian had designed this—I knew it in my gut. He’d chosen this fog, this challenge.

But what for? To even the playing field? To show us that our disadvantage could be turned into leverage?

Or just to test the depths of our weakness?

The forest whispered no answers back, only the rustle of leaves and the occasional, distant crack of a branch snapping under another team’s weight.

We found the first Moonstone Shard within the first hour.

It was wedged into the trunk of a dead tree, its pale glow faint through the fog, like moonlight bleeding through water.

Judy yanked it free with a triumphant whoop, brandishing it high. The shard pulsed faintly in her palm, runes etched along its edge humming with power.

“One down!” She grinned, teeth flashing, eyes bright despite the haze.

“Two to go,” I reminded, though a thrill spread through me at her joy.

We pressed on, weaving deeper into the woods, through marshy patches that sucked at our boots and over ridges where jagged stones jutted like teeth.

My lungs burned with exertion. My fingers flexed unconsciously around the entry pass tucked into my jacket pocket next to Maya’s moonstone.

It was during our search for the second shard that the trouble began.

Roxy lagged at the back, her movements agitated and restless, like a wolf pacing the bars of a cage. I felt her stare drilling into my spine.

When she finally spoke, her voice was thick with venom.

“It’s cute how hard you’re trying,” she said, voice low but cutting through the fog, “but you’ll always be just a replacement.”

I turned slightly, enough to catch her out of the corner of my eye. She’s stopped, leaning against a boulder slick with moss, her arms crossed, a sneer curling her lips.

“What do you mean?” Judy snapped, bristling.

“She knows exactly what I mean,” Roxy said, eyes locked on me. “Jessica told me all about it—how Lucian once had a mate he actually loved. You’ll never be her, you know. You’re just...the stand-in.”

Her words slithered through me like smoke, curling into the cracks where my heart was still healing.

My chest clenched, a flash of memories playing in my mind.

The conviction with which Lucian explained the mate bond. The dark, brief shadows that crossed his face. The longing in his tone when he talked about his...friend.

I folded my arms. “Tell me more about this so-called mate.”

Roxy faltered. “I-I never met her, but Jessica—”

Right. Jessica. I wasn’t stupid enough to believe anything that came from Celeste 2.0’s mouth.

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