My Sister Stole My Mate, And I Let Her Chapter 183 SOMETHING MONSTROUS

CELESTE’S POV

Cold.

That was the first thing that tore through the fog in my head.

Not the sharp bite of winter air, but a damp, stale chill that crawled under my clothes and clung to my skin.

My body jerked—and tal rattled with the movent. I realized...

My wrists wouldn’t move. They were held in place by cool iron.

W-what?

My lashes fluttered open, my vision blurry. For a mont, I thought I was still in the hotel suite—the silk sheets, the glinting chandeliers, Brett’s flat voice twisting through my mind like a cruel dream.

But hotel suites didn’t sll like this. Rust. And gasoline. And sweat. And urine.

My surroundings ca into focus. With it ca cold, heavy dread.

I wasn’t in a bed.

I was sitting on a tal floor—corrugated, ridged, rocking slightly beneath as if...

As if I was moving.

A truck.

I was in a fucking truck.

I blinked, taking in the space. It was dimly lit by slivers of light seeping through the cracks of the shuttered back doors.

Harsh shadows flickered with every bump in the road. The ceiling was low. My knees were bent awkwardly to my chest because there wasn’t room to stretch out.

My wrists were shackled together with thick cuffs connected to a chain bolted to the floor. Sothing heavy weighed down my ankles, too.

All around , huddled shapes moved with weak, trembling breaths. Won. Girls. So barely more than kids.

They all wore collars around their necks, chains rattling with every shift. Their faces were streaked with gri and tears. So stared blankly ahead like their souls had already checked out.

A strangled cry scraped free from my throat, raw with panic. My neck was weighed down by a collar of my own.

“No,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “No, no, no—”

Panic hit like a tidal wave. I yanked at the shackles on my wrists, tal cutting into skin. “HEY! WHAT IS THIS? LET OUT—LET —”

A boot slamd into my ribs so fast I didn’t even see it coming.

The air whooshed from my lungs as my body crumpled sideways, my vision exploding into bright white stars. Pain flared like fire beneath my skin.

“Shut the hell up,” a gruff male voice snarled.

A shadow lood above , and I had to blink the stars away to take him in. He wore a dark jacket and was heavily built, his features hard and cruel in the dim light.

The other won shrank back.

I gasped, struggling to pull in air. Shock and fury warred with disbelief.

“Do that again,” I rasped, rage lacing every word, “and my fiancé will—”

A sharp crack split the air.

Sothing lashed across my arm—whip? Belt? Gods, it burned, tearing my skin with a sting so vicious I scread before I could stop myself.

“Watch her face, dumbass!” another voice barked from the front of the truck. “Pretty ones get better prices. Don’t ss up the goods.”

Goods.

Goods.

The word rang in my skull like a sick joke.

A shudder wracked . I was shaking, paralyzed, lungs spasming in frantic, useless gulps.

One of the girls beside whimpered silently, shoulders jerking.

The man who had struck snorted and stepped back. “That’s better,” he muttered, satisfied now that I’d gone quiet.

My heart hamred in my chest, a wild, chaotic rhythm that had nothing to do with the cold.

Goods.

No.

No, absolutely fucking not!

“I’m not—” My voice quivered. I swallowed the sting of tears, forced more volu. “I’m Celeste Lockwood, daughter of Edward and Margaret Lockwood of Frostbane Pack. My fiancé is Alpha Kieran Blackthorne of Nightfang Pack. If you don’t let out of these chains right now—”

Laughter.

Harsh, mocking laughter.

“You hit her too hard, asshole,” soone else I couldn’t hear muttered, amusent ringing in his voice.

The man who’d hit spat on the floor. “Oh, sure, princess,” he sneered. “And I’m the King of the Council.”

That sent them into another fit of raucous laughter.

“Are you hearing ?” I hissed, more pissed off than scared now. “I am fucking royalty!”

“There is no royalty here,” another chid in lazily. “Only mutts, Ogas, and wolfless filth no one gives a shit about.”

“I—” My voice trembled with fury. First, I’d been kidnapped, and now I was being classified with fucking filth? “I’m not an Oga. I’m not wolfless. I am—”

“Delusional, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “You’re delusional.”

“You fucking—”

The truck lurched violently as it hit a bump, pitching us sideways. My wrists ached as the chains held in place.

“Pathetic,” he snorted.

My tongue felt thick in my mouth. Sweat trickled down my back despite the cold.

They didn’t believe .

Or worse—they didn’t care.

I tried to push past panic and think.

Okay. What did I know?

I rembered the hallway. Chasing Brett. The elevator doors closing. Then—arms grabbing . Hand over my mouth. No chance to scream. No scent to latch onto because—

Because Kharis was sealed.

A tremor rippled through .

If she weren’t locked away... if the bond between us weren’t muted... maybe I would’ve felt the danger sooner. Maybe I could’ve fought back.

But I’d caged her. Smothered her voice until she barely even scratched against the inside of my mind anymore.

Brett’s voice from earlier sliced into my thoughts like a hot blade:

‘Stop keeping Kharis locked away like she’s so inconvenience you wish never existed.’

Panic wavered. Guilt slithered in.

No.

I tossed that panic aside with a savage will. I refused to break here. I refused to beco like the hollow-eyed girls around .

Think, Celeste. You are a Lockwood. You were raised for power. Taught how to survive politics, mind gas, social warfare—

But this wasn’t politics. This was chains. Flesh. Fear. Real danger.

The truck slowed suddenly.

My breath hitched.

A murmur rippled through the girls around —small, broken sounds that were more like sobs swallowed by fear.

The guard hit the tal wall twice.

“We’re here!”

Here.

Where the hell was here?

One of the doors creaked. I instinctively squinted as light spilled in, blinding after the darkness.

As footsteps approached, I straightened, forcing my spine stiff despite the burning pain in my ribs. My wrists throbbed where the tal bit into my skin.

I didn’t know where I was being taken.

But a cold truth whispered through with bone-deep certainty: This was the beginning of sothing monstrous.

***

MARGARET’S POV

Ethan was rolling his shoulder when I walked into the Frostbane training hall, still damp with sweat from sparring.

The other pack mbers were dispersing, exchanging lazy jokes as they filed out. As they passed, their heads bowed in deference to their Dowager Luna.

Normally, I would return the gesture with grace, but I was too agitated to give more than a distracted nod.

Outside, there was a chill in the early evening air, but here, it was warm with exertion, laughter, and pack-bonded ease.

But ease wouldn’t settle in my chest.

My heart had been beating wrong for days—uneven, out of sync.

Ethan glanced over when he sensed , and his brow arched slightly.

“Mom?” His voice was soft, his posture relaxing.

“I need to talk to you.” I tried to sound steady. Failed.

He frowned slightly. “Give five minutes to shower.” He glanced behind , at the wall clock. “I have a date with Maya, she’ll kill if I’m even a minute late.”

I attempted a smile. Failed again. It brought nothing but joy that my son had found his fated mate. But right now, I couldn’t bring myself to care about her.

“This won’t take long.”

He hesitated, then stepped closer, towel draped over his shoulder. Up close, I could see the bruise blooming near his collarbone.

A sparring accident, probably. He would heal fast. Ethan was strong. Stable.

The sa couldn’t be said for his sister.

Celeste, I an.

When it ca to Sera... Well, I still couldn’t get an accurate read on her.

The thought of my oldest daughter sent a pang through , but I pushed it aside and focused on the reason I was here—my youngest daughter.

“When was the last ti you heard from Celeste?” I asked Ethan.

His brows knit together as he thought. “Not since I dropped her off at the house after the LST. I tried calling her the day after. She picked up, cursed out, told not to fucking bother her again, and hung up.”

He shrugged. “I tried not to take it to heart.” His frown deepened, seeing the worry on my face. “Why?”

“She hasn’t been ho in days,” I whispered.

“Sera and Daniel ca over the other day, and—”

“Let guess,” he muttered, “Celeste wasn’t happy about that and threw a bitch fit.”

“Language,” I gasped instinctively.

He rolled his eyes.

I sighed. “Anyway, I might have...struck her.” I wrung my hands, feeling the phantom sting from hitting my precious daughter. “She stord out after that, and she’s not answering my calls or ssages.”

Ethan’s expression tightened slightly. He brushed a lock of damp hair away from his forehead. “She’s probably still pissed about Kieran breaking off the engagent. Any hit to her ego makes her...dramatic.”

My eyes widened. “Kieran broke off their engagent?”

He nodded.

Guilt churned in my stomach when I rembered how happy she had been to go out to et Kieran that morning. Oh, how she must have been hurting when she returned, and I—

Why did it feel like I couldn’t do right by any of my daughters?

I took a breath. My thoughts had circled uselessly for hours. I agreed that Celeste had a flair for theatrics, and she could easily be doing this for attention.

But sothing didn’t feel right.

“I know pride,” I murmured. “But this doesn’t feel like pride.”

He sighed. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Kieran’s credit card statent,” he answered simply. “She’s been using it since they broke up like so kind of revenge tactic.”

“What?”

He nodded, sounding sowhere between annoyed and weary. “She went on a shopping spree in the city, and then booked a week in a luxury presidential suite at the Vesper Grand.”

My chest tightened. I was still uneasy.

“I want to check on her,” I whispered.

Ethan’s brow furrowed. “Mom—”

“I won’t feel at peace until I see her with my own eyes,” I insisted.

He hesitated—then gave in with a slow, resigned nod. “Fine. I’ll text Maya.”

I touched his cheek briefly, a silent thank you.

***

The Vesper Grand Hotel had always been Celeste’s favorite—dripping in elegance, with gilded chandeliers and velvet drapes. We’d booked rooms here for pack events and summits when my Edward was still alive.

Sothing about the opulence and extravagance of the place reminded of Celeste.

She’d always wanted to be seen. To be adored.

I guess that’s why Sera’s quiet existence had always infuriated her so much—how soone so muted could still hold attention without trying.

I stepped into the elevator with Ethan at my side, accompanied by the hotel manager, a well-dressed man with carefully styled hair and a master keycard.

My pulse thumped in my ears. Anxiety and anticipation wound tight inside as the numbers in the elevator counted till we got to the presidential floor.

The hotel manager’s smile was politely strained as he led us to her door. “Miss Lockwood has not requested any services since she checked in. We assud she wished for privacy since no complaints were lodged.”

“Open it,” Ethan said flatly.

The electronic beep echoed almost too loudly.

I braced myself for the chaos of Celeste in ltdown mode—clothes scattered, makeup smudged, designer heels thrown, maybe her crying in the hot tub or sprawled dramatically on the bed.

But.

The bed had been slept in—once. Sheets rumpled lightly. Her Chanel purse lay on the chaise. Her heels were scattered at the foot of the bed.

Nothing else.

My pulse spiked.

“M-maybe she stepped out,” the manager offered weakly.

Ethan stalked to the closet. Empty.

“Where is she?” I breathed.

I moved through the suite slowly, every step heavier than the last. My mind spun through every possibility, none of them comforting.

Then, on the marble table next to the minifridge, I saw it—a black Arican Express card. My fingers trembled as they brushed the na embossed along the bottom. Kieran Blackthorne.

She wouldn’t willingly leave this behind.

Ethan’s voice was low. Tight. “Mom...”

My breathing ca faster. The room blurred.

I pulled out my phone with numb fingers and dialed Kieran.

He answered on the second ring. “Margaret?”

I cut to the chase. “Are you certain Celeste checked in at the Vesper Grand Hotel?” My voice shook.

He paused—likely thrown off by the raw panic in my tone. “Yes. Like I told Ethan, the reservation was charged to my card. Why?”

“She’s not here,” I whispered. “She’s gone, Kieran.”