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My Sister Stole My Mate, And I Let Her

193 Chapter 193 THE WRONG MEMORY · Nov 02, 2026

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Chapter List (549)

Page number / 11

151 151 Chapter 151 WHISPERS IN THE DARK 2026-11-02
152 152 Chapter 152 ASHAR 2026-11-02
153 153 Chapter 153 DEATH WISH 2026-11-02
154 154 Chapter 154 SOMETHING 2026-11-02
155 155 Chapter 155 WATChapter AND LEARN 2026-11-02
156 156 Chapter 156 SURGEON’S SCALPEL 2026-11-02
157 157 Chapter 157 THE CHAMPIONS 2026-11-02
158 158 Chapter 158 JOYOUS CHAOS 2026-11-02
159 159 Chapter 159 STILL A FAMILY 2026-11-02
160 160 Chapter 160 SHEER INJUSTICE 2026-11-02
161 161 Chapter 161 OLIVE BRANCH 2026-11-02
162 162 Chapter 162 MAGICAL GLUE 2026-11-02
163 163 Chapter 163 KIERAN BLACKTHORNE’S BUTTONS 2026-11-02
164 164 Chapter 164 JUST A GAME 2026-11-02
165 165 Chapter 165 BEAUTIFULLY POETIC 2026-11-02
166 166 Chapter 166 FAMILY OUTING 2026-11-02
167 167 Chapter 167 VALUABLE LESSONS 2026-11-02
168 168 Chapter 168 ZARA 2026-11-02
169 169 Chapter 169 CERULEAN ON CERULEAN 2026-11-02
170 170 Chapter 170 SO MANY QUESTIONS 2026-11-02
171 171 Chapter 171 WELCOME HOME 2026-11-02
172 172 Chapter 172 THE END 2026-11-02
173 173 Chapter 173 COOKIES AND SMILES 2026-11-02
174 174 Chapter 174 CONGRATULATIONS 2026-11-02
175 175 Chapter 175 YOU FEEL IT 2026-11-02
176 176 Chapter 176 DESTRUCTION MADE FLESH 2026-11-02
177 177 Chapter 177 MATTERS OF THE HEART 2026-11-02
178 178 Chapter 178 UPSIDE-DOWN DIMENSION 2026-11-02
179 179 Chapter 179 TAINTED PAST 2026-11-02
180 180 Chapter 180 COUPLE GOALS 2026-11-02
181 181 Chapter 181 TRUTH OR DARE 2026-11-02
182 182 Chapter 182 FRIENDS DON’T KISS 2026-11-02
183 183 Chapter 183 SOMETHING MONSTROUS 2026-11-02
184 184 Chapter 184 PRACTICALLY ALARMING 2026-11-02
185 185 Chapter 185 CELESTE DRAMA 2026-11-02
186 186 Chapter 186 ABOUT DANIEL 2026-11-02
187 187 Chapter 187 ONE DAY AT A TIME 2026-11-02
188 188 Chapter 188 D-DAY 2026-11-02
189 189 Chapter 189 WHAT’S NEXT 2026-11-02
190 190 Chapter 190 SHADOWVEIL 2026-11-02
191 191 Chapter 191 BLUE MOON 2026-11-02
192 192 Chapter 192 TRUE EMOTIONS 2026-11-02
193 193 Chapter 193 THE WRONG MEMORY 2026-11-02
194 194 Chapter 194 MOONBATH WISH 2026-11-02
195 195 Chapter 195 MOONLIT SPRING 2026-11-02
196 196 Chapter 196 FUCKING FANTASTIC 2026-11-02
197 197 Chapter 197 GOODBYE 2026-11-02
198 198 Chapter 198 QUITE A PHILOSOPHY 2026-11-02
199 199 Chapter 199 THE PACK RUN 2026-11-02
200 200 Chapter 200 WAKING UP 2026-11-02

193: Chapter 193 THE WRONG MEMORY 193: Chapter 193 THE WRONG MEMORY KIERAN’S POV

The memory hit so far out of left field, I might have stumbled if I hadn’t been sitting.

A park in the neutral zone came into focus—mid-morning after a night of rain.

The air was cool and bright, and dew clung to the grass, silvering the blades like frost.

I remembered how it had soaked through my pants as I sat there, my knees scraped and bleeding from a fall that had hurt less than the sting of my father’s words.

He’d yelled again—something about control, discipline, appearances.

I was barely seven years old; I didn’t care about any of that, didn’t understand what it meant for my small shoulders to carry the weight of being an Alpha’s heir.

So I’d run away.

I ran until my lungs burned, wanting to prove that I didn’t care, that I could disappear from his world entirely.

But children never get far on wounded pride.

I’d tripped over a tree root, hit the dirt, and stayed there—I had no idea for how long—mud streaking my palms, tears mixing with the taste of salt and soil.

The sound of laughter had startled me.

Light, musical.

A girl’s.

When I looked up, she was standing a few feet away, her shoes sinking slightly in the wet grass.

Her hair was pale—almost white in the sunlight—and tied with a ribbon that had come loose.

She couldn’t have been more than five or six, wearing a pink dress that looked far too fine for running through muddy parks.

She blinked at me, frowning with concentration.

“Are you hurt?”

I sniffled, wiping my mud-streaked hand across my cheeks.

“Go away.”

She…laughed.

It was such a soft, bright sound that I forgot that I was supposed to be mad at the world.

And then she stepped closer to me and dug a small handkerchief out of her pocket and held it out.

“Here,” she said with the calm authority of someone used to fixing things.

I glared at the handkerchief, at her, at everything.

“I don’t want a handkerchief.

It hurts.”

Instead of leaving, she crouched down until we were eye level, her knees pressing into the mud without hesitation.

“If it hurts,” she said matter-of-factly, “you can draw this.

It helps.”

Without asking my permission, she took my hand in hers and upturned it.

I didn’t breathe as she began to trace a pattern in the mud on my palm.

A crescent moon first, then a star nestled inside it—five points, careful and deliberate.

I sniffled.

“It’s dumb.”

“It’s lucky,” she corrected, brushing a strand of wet hair from her cheek, smearing mud in the process.

“Now you have the blessing of the Moon Goddess and all the stars in her sky.

It means you’ll heal faster.”

Her eyes lifted to mine, clear and serious in a way that made her look older than her years.

Then she smiled—sudden, bright, stunning.

It hit me like sunlight breaking through clouds.

In that moment, I believed her.

I believed in the little moon-and-star symbol, in her certainty, in everything.

Before I could make my voice work, before I could ask her name, a sharp voice called from across the park.

“Miss Lockwood!

Your father will be furious at your muddy clothes!”

The girl’s eyes widened, and she let out a small gasp that turned into laughter.

“Oops!” she whispered, springing to her feet.

The hem of her dress was splattered with dirt, but she didn’t seem to care.

She waved once, quick and carefree.

“Bye!”

And then she was gone, running toward a waiting nanny with her ribbon streaming behind her like a strip of pink smoke.

That was it—just a fleeting meeting, ten minutes at most.

But I’d carried it with me like a secret tattoo, etched somewhere beneath the skin where even time couldn’t erase it.

When I saw the same mark almost ten years later on the edge of Celeste Lockwood’s school bag, I’d been stunned.

I thought it was fate, a sign.

The same symbol, the same last name.

The memory reshaped itself—Celeste must have been the girl.

But now…

Now Daniel’s inked mark burned on my skin, and my mind refused to settle.

Sera had created that symbol.

Sera.

I looked at Daniel, who was carefully recapping his marker.

“Did your grandma ever tell you where your mom learned it?”

He shook his head.

“She said Mom made it up when she was little.

Why?”

The smile I forced felt more like a grimace.

“No reason.”

He grinned, satisfied with his work.

“Now we both have it.

That means we protect her together, right?”

I stared at the mark again, the lines blurring slightly as memories tangled.

“Right.”

“Okay, I gotta get ready for training.”

I barely registered his words.

I stayed seated, the weight of the past pressing against my ribs.

It was that encounter, that memory of innocence and hope, that drew me to Celeste.

But what if she’d only reminded me of someone else?

Someone I never even gave a second glance.

Because if Daniel’s words were true—if Sera was that little girl—then every choice I’d made since had been built on a lie.

My chest throbbed, sharper this time, the wound under the bandage pulsing in protest.

Daniel leaned forward and tapped my knee.

“Dad?”

“Hmm.” I blinked.

He eyed me suspiciously.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” I said quickly.

“Go on, get ready.

We’ll head out soon.”

His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t press anymore.

He turned and headed into the bathroom.

When the door shut, I let out a long breath, pressing my palm over the mark again.

The ink was still fresh, faintly smudged from the cold sweat that had broken out all over me.

My skin tingled, remembering the faint touch of that little girl’s hand decades ago as she drew on my palm.

‘You have the blessing of the Moon Goddess and all the stars in her sky.’

She’d said it with such conviction.

And now her son had redrawn it for me, echoing her words.

Fate had a cruel sense of humor.

I leaned back against the couch, closing my eyes.

I could almost hear Sera’s voice—the way she said my name now, cold but steady.

The way she couldn’t look at me that day outside her door when she said some wounds weren’t meant to heal.

She’d found her peace.

Somewhere in Shadowveil, she was happy.

And I was here, struggling to breathe against the piercing agony of too many years wasted chasing the wrong memory.

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