My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 143

Chapter 143: Chapter 143 MEAT FOR BRAINS

SERAPHINA’S POV

Facing off against Brynjar and his Shadow Claw thugs in a hotel lobby surrounded by spectators—aka: witnesses—was one thing. Facing them in the lawless, cold walls of the Trials was fucking terrifying.

As they stormed into the chamber, the atmosphere thickened like smoke choking a fire. Dust billowed in from the shattered entryway, carrying the acrid stench of scorched stone and the metallic tang of blood.

And, oh gods, they looked like hell.

Cuts striped their arms and faces and torsos, visible through their torn shirts. One guy’s sleeve was slick with crimson from a wound that hadn’t even clotted yet.

I could practically smell the charred singe of burned fabric where one of them must’ve triggered a fire trap.

It was obvious that this band of meat-for-brains wolves had strong-armed their way through the maze, triggering gods knew how many traps to get here.

Yet despite the evidence of their struggle, Brynjar’s grin spread wide.

His dark eyes landed immediately on the Altar behind me, and for a flicker of a second, I saw his triumph falter into rage.

Because we were already there. We’d made it before his team.

“Well, well,” he drawled, his voice dripping with both exhaustion and arrogance. Mainly arrogance. “Looks like the pups beat us to the feast.”

His teammates spread out, boxing us in like hungry hyenas circling a meal. Shoulders squared, fists flexing, their battered state doing nothing to soften the menace radiating from them.

“Back up,” Roxy growled, her voice vibrating with the promise of violence. She planted herself at my right shoulder, chin lifted, hands curling into fists. “You’re not touching this Altar.”

I could feel the heat of her anger, ready to ignite at the slightest spark, and it was reassuring. But only slightly.

As strong as I knew she was in combat, as good as I was, the five of us didn’t stand a chance against the five of them.

A fight would only end with several broken bones and my team’s blood coating the Echo Altar.

“Easy,” Judy murmured, stepping close enough to Roxy to lay a grounding hand on her arm. “Don’t let him rile you.”

Brynjar’s lips twisted, amusement flickering. “Cute. You really think you can keep us from it?”

His gaze flicked over us, settling on Finn and Talia where they lingered just behind me—instantly sniffing out the weakest of us.

He smirked. “You nerds already worked out the sequence, huh? Hand it over, and maybe I’ll let you walk away.”

I moved before he could take another step, instinct shoving myself between Brynjar and the two other people who knew the sequence.

“Not happening,” I said flatly.

Finn’s hand brushed my back, steadying, but I didn’t let him step out from behind me. Not a chance.

Brynjar tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “I have no problem taking what I want. In fact,”—he cracked his knuckles, his lips curling menacingly—“I look forward to it.”

For a terrifying heartbeat, I thought he’d lunge.

His shoulders rolled with barely contained impatience. His men tightened their circle.

But then Judy stepped forward.

“Or,” she said coolly, “you could do things by the rules for once in your life.”

Brynjar snorted. “Rules?”

“Yes,” Judy said, her tone sharp, deliberate.

She squared her shoulders, looking every inch the warrior she was training to be. “The Trials allow challenges between competitors. If you’re so desperate to prove you’re better, then call off your pack of dogs and face me one-on-one.”

My stomach swooped. “Judy—”

She ignored me and instead stooped, dragging the edge of her boot against the dusty stone floor.

Everyone watched with bated breath as she moved, until a rough circle enclosed the space between us and the Shadow Claw wolves.

“Circle challenge,” she announced, lifting her chin. “Step out of the boundary, and you lose. Winner claims the altar.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, my eyes widening as the challenge hung in the air.

Silence followed, broken only by the grinding shift of the maze’s distant walls. Brynjar’s lips curled slowly, baring his teeth.

“You against me?” He chuckled, the sound thick with disdain. “You’re smaller than my shadow.”

“Size doesn’t matter,” Judy shot back. “Unless you’re afraid of being outsmarted by an Omega?”

The air seemed to crackle with tension as Brynjar reeled from the jab. He quickly recovered and barked out a laugh. “Afraid? Not a chance.”

He cracked his neck, then gestured to his men to step back.

“Fine. I’ll knock you clear out of your little circle,” he snarled. “Maybe break a couple of your twig bones while I’m at it.”

She snorted and took a step forward. I caught her wrist, staring at her boot within the circle’s boundary with trepidation. “Judy. Think this through.”

She turned to me, and our eyes met. I blinked at the sheer confidence I saw there, not a lick of fear in sight.

“Trust me,” she murmured under her breath.

And gods help me, despite how ridiculous and scary the notion of her facing a walking boulder like Brynjar—I did.

So I nodded and let my hand drop to my side. “Kick his ass,” I whispered.

Her lips twitched. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

They squared off inside the circle. Brynjar rolled his shoulders, cocky swagger dripping off every movement.

Judy, in contrast, stood light on her feet, eyes sharp, calm as a blade balanced on a fingertip.

Of course, Brynjar lunged first, all brute strength and no restraint. I winced as his fist cut through the air, aiming straight for Judy’s head.

She ducked in one fluid, effortless movement that would have made Maya proud.

His momentum carried him dangerously close to the circle’s edge before he caught himself and spun around with a snarl.

Judy danced just out of reach, forcing him to chase her within the circle.

He lunged blindly, ego and rising fury carrying him, and she always ducked, just slightly out of reach enough to infuriate him further.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify