My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 142

Chapter 142: Chapter 142 THE RESONANT LABYRINTH

SERAPHINA’S POV

For a long time, I just sat there in the dark, hugging my knees and staring out at nothing.

My vision warped as hot tears slid down my cheeks unhindered. My father’s voice lingered like smoke after a fire—soft, elusive.

‘You were always meant for more.’

I closed my eyes and pressed the heels of my palms against my lids as if I could hold onto him if I just pressed hard enough.

But the dream was already rapidly fading—an echo I couldn’t chase down, no matter how hard I tried.

When I opened my eyes, all that greeted me was the gradual, dim wash of dawn spilling in through the cracks of my blinds.

And the worst part? Confusion tangled with the yawning ache in my chest.

I couldn’t tell if my dream was a memory or...invention.

Had my father truly said those words to me once, in the garden of my childhood?

Or was I so starved for comfort, had I been so triggered by my mother’s visit and that damn pie, that my mind had conjured those tender moments wholesale?

Whenever I dared to summon thoughts of my father, all that surfaced were the harsh, malicious glares he always shot at me, as if I were his greatest mistake. All I could remember was the cruel anger in his voice as he disowned me.

‘From this day forward, you are no daughter of mine.’

‘Your birth was a mistake, Seraphina.’

How could that have been the same man in my dream, stroking my hair and telling me I was precious?

An anguished groan tore out of my throat as I dragged my hands down my face. I couldn’t afford emotional turmoil like this. Not today.

Memory or illusion, both were dangerous, and I couldn’t afford to have them soften or dull my edges when I needed them sharp.

I needed to get my ass out of bed, clear my mind, and face what the day had in store for me.

Because today was the second challenge of the LST.

***

The second Arena was called the Resonant Labyrinth.

The entrance yawned before us, a maw of shifting walls that ground against each other with a groan like mountains waking.

Towering slabs slid and re-formed with the patience of melting glaciers, but the precision of clockwork.

It was basically a gigantic puzzle cut out of stone.

While the Misty Woods had been an Arena of muscle and reflex and instinct, this one required us to rely on our minds more than anything else.

Once again, I’d ingested the instructions and chanted them back to myself repeatedly: Six hours. Navigate the maze. Reach the Echo Altar at the center. Strike the correct sequence. Escape.

Safe to say, this new weight pressed on my lungs like a vice.

The walls were etched with strange markings—curves and slashes, dots and crescents, spirals that pulsed faintly as if they had been carved with living flame.

At first glance, the symbols looked like abstract art, something one might dismiss as decoration.

But they were crucial to the challenge—they held the sequence that would release us from the maze.

“Hell of a place,” Roxy muttered, cracking her knuckles like she was preparing to punch her way through the walls of stone.

Her reflection gleamed faintly in the polished wall. “Bet I could smash through three turns in and shave hours off our time.”

Oh gods, she was actually considering it?

I bit back a sigh. “Or trigger every trap in the maze and bury us all alive.”

She shot me a sharp look. I returned it with an arched brow.

We’d had such a nice time after the last trial. I really hoped we wouldn’t so quickly revert to our initial dynamic.

Judy rolled her eyes. “How about we try brains before brawn, yeah?”

Finn had already stepped closer to the wall, fingers hovering just shy of the symbols.

His eyes narrowed in concentration. “These aren’t random.” His voice was low, reverent almost. “They’re notation.”

I blinked at him. “Like...musical notation?”

He nodded, his lips twitching at the corners in a show of rare excitement. “Ancient wolf tribe music. My grandfather taught me to recognize fragments. I’ve only ever seen scraps in books—but this is an entire lexicon.”

I leaned closer, my pulse quickening as I recognized some of the markings. He was right. The arrangement wasn’t arbitrary; the lines repeated in measured intervals, dots clustered like staccato notes.

It was rhythm—a language of sound carved into stone.

I knew the books Finn referred to; the Lockwood library had been full of them, and I’d had plenty of alone time to peruse through a bunch.

My mind immediately began to work, patterns sparking like tinder catching flame. “If the walls are notation...then the Altar’s passcode must be a composition.”

Finn shifted to the other side of the maze, squinting at little raised grooves, almost like buttons, with markings that matched the notes on our side.

He pressed one, and a resonant ding rang through the air.

He leaned back, nodding to himself. “You’re right, Sera. Each corresponding note should lead us through the maze, and the culmination should be the final sequence.”

I smiled, cracking my neck. “Right then. Let’s get to work.”

We quickly divided roles.

Finn and I became the codebreaking duo, our eyes fixed on the walls, trading rapid theories and testing patterns against memory.

He pointed out symbols I didn’t recognize, explaining their meaning, their tempo. In return, I aligned them into sequences, measuring beats with my fingertips against my thigh.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the passages, Judy was on guard duty, scanning for threats from other teams, while Talia, acting as operator, pressed symbols as I called them out.

Each one responded with a tone—sometimes warm and resonant, sometimes shrill enough to make us wince.

We worked like that in harmony, a rhythm of our own making—until, of course, we were interrupted.

Behind us, Roxy groaned audibly. “So what, we crawl through the maze as the two of you hum little songs until something clicks? This is a waste of time.”

“Feel free to wander off again, Roxy,” I said flatly, not looking back. “I wonder what trap or peril we’ll have to pull you out of this time.”

That shut her up. Though I felt her glare boring into the back of my head.

“Again,” I said to Talia, gesturing toward a spiral etched low on the wall.

She obeyed, striking it with two fingers. A deep hum filled the corridor, vibrating up through my boots.

“Yes,” Finn breathed. “That’s the tonic note. We’ve completed the foundation.”

I smiled. We were making progress.

Roxy swallowed hard, flexing her grazed arm. “You’re right,” she muttered. “I’m sorry.” 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

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