The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter-Chapter 200: The Reveal

Natalie~

The heavy double doors of the ballroom loomed ahead, their gold-carved frames catching the torchlight like they held a secret they were aching to tell. My heels tapped against the polished obsidian floor as I walked between Eagle and Fox, Jacob steady by my side. The air was filled with the scent of roses, perfumes, power, and electricity—something that felt like change.

Fox was already preening like a peacock, fixing the hem of my flowing gown for the third time, even though it was already flawless.

"You look like sin dipped in moonlight," he whispered with a wink.

I rolled my eyes. "Try to behave."

"I will. But I can’t promise I won’t faint from the collective gasp that’s about to hit the room."

Eagle, ever composed, flicked a strand of his long black hair behind his shoulder, silver eyes scanning the ballroom entrance like a hawk on patrol. "We’ll stay here," he said simply. "No sense crowding the reveal. They need to see you for what you are."

Jacob’s hand twitched under my fingers. His jaw was tense, his expression unreadable, but I felt the warmth in the way he held me. Protective. Steady. My big brother.

Fox stepped back and gave an exaggerated bow. "Go forth, moonlight queen."

Eagle nodded, eyes glinting like steel. "We’ll be watching."

I smiled at them both, heart fluttering like a trapped bird in my chest. "Thank you," I said softly, and then turned toward the ballroom with Jacob.

As soon as the doors opened, it was like the world paused.

Every conversation halted.

Every laugh died midair.

And then came the stares.

Hundreds of them.

Eyes flicked to me—curious, wide, confused. My gown trailed behind me like liquid night, shimmering in silver threads that whispered secrets only the moon could understand. My hair were piled high, a few flowing down my neck, and around my shoulders draped the ancestral sash Jacob had placed over me just moments before.

People sniffed the air subtly, like their brains couldn’t catch up with their instincts.

"Who is that?" someone whispered.

"She looks like royalty..."

"Is that—"

"No... no, it couldn’t be. Natalie Cross?" freewebnσvel.cѳm

"But she’s wolfless..."

My name spread like fire on dry grass. The murmurs swept from one side of the ballroom to the other, like a storm building right before the lightning hit.

I could hear the Silverfang pack whispering answers, their guilt and shame dripping from their words.

"Yeah, that’s her... the one Griffin Blackthorn rejected, the one Alpha Darius banished."

"She’s supposed to be cursed."

"She doesn’t even have a wolf."

"But look at her... she looks—different."

They didn’t know Jacob. Not yet. That mystery would unfold soon enough. For now, their eyes clung to me like they were trying to memorize every thread, every shimmer, every step.

Maeron and Darius stood near the King’s podium, their smug expressions faltering as I approached. Their feet shifted back, involuntarily, like I was poison. Or judgment.

I didn’t flinch.

I didn’t glare.

I didn’t even blink.

I walked right past them, my hand still resting on Jacob’s arm, and I smiled—sweet and dangerous.

They moved out of the way like I was a storm they’d rather not challenge.

Cowards.

When we reached the throne platform, Jacob finally let go of my arm. He looked down at me, pride swimming in his eyes.

"Go," he whispered. "Make the world see you."

I nodded once and stepped up.

Zane stood there, glorious in his dark royal suit, a sword sheathed at his hip, his blue eyes burning holes into my soul. When I reached him, he pulled me gently into his arms and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek.

"You’re here," he whispered, voice low and reverent.

"I told you I would be," I whispered back, smiling up at him.

The King’s nod came with a warmth that settled deep in my chest. It told me you belong here. And that small gesture gave me the final push I needed as I slowly turned to face the sea of wolves and other supernaturals.

The ballroom was packed wall to wall, but you could’ve heard a pin drop under the weight of their stares. Their murmurs buzzed like flies—low, uneasy, suspicious.

I raised my hand.

Silence snapped into place like a trap shutting.

Then, with my chin held high and no shake in my voice, I said, "My name... is Natalie Cross."

The reaction was instant—an audible, collective gasp that rolled through the crowd like thunder.

"She’s the wolfless girl Maeron and Darius were just talking about!"

"The cursed one!"

"What is she doing here?"

"Who let her into the palace?!"

A woman in an emerald gown shrieked like someone had slapped her. "You shouldn’t be here! You’re a curse! Get out before you infect the royal family!"

"Wolfless freak!"

"Her kind brings nothing but destruction!"

Each insult hit like a slap, but I didn’t flinch. I stood still, my face unreadable, my heart calm. Their words were knives made of paper—I had bled enough in life to know these wouldn’t cut me.

I let the chaos hang for a moment. Let it breathe.

Then I spoke.

"They’re lying to you," I said, my voice smooth but steely. "Maeron and Darius are lying. I am not wolfless."

Another eruption of disbelief.

"No, no—don’t believe her! She doesn’t smell like a wolf!"

"Her scent’s empty!"

"She’s trying to trick the royal family!"

"She’s dangerous!"

The wolves were practically foaming at the mouth now, their judgment clinging to me like smoke.

My eyes scanned the crowd until they finally settled on Maeron—smirking like this was a game he was winning. Darius stood with his arms folded across his chest, oozing arrogance, but his eyes weren’t smiling. He was watching me closely. Too closely. Like a predator waiting to see if the prey would run.

But I wasn’t prey.

I didn’t run. I didn’t shrink. I didn’t beg.

Darius finally stepped forward, his movements as smooth and rehearsed as a politician playing to the cameras. His face was calm—too calm—and his voice, when he spoke, was honey-laced with poison.

"Natalie," he said, like we were childhood friends sharing a quiet moment, not sworn enemies playing chess with the future of the kingdom. "You’ve always had such a... vivid imagination. But this?" He gestured to the crowd, to me, to everything. "Lying to the entire kingdom and beyond? That’s a step too far, even for you."

A few people chuckled, uncomfortable but entertained, like they didn’t want to admit how cruel the joke really was.

"I know it hurts," Darius went on, his voice thick with faux sympathy, "being rejected. Being... less. But this desperate little performance to rewrite your fate?" He shook his head like a disappointed parent. "It’s pathetic. You are wolfless. That’s your curse. Own it. Stop trying to manipulate the royal family just because you couldn’t find your place among the rest of us."

His words slithered through the crowd, and they nodded like puppets pulled by his strings. Maeron looked like he was about to burst with pride—his smirk practically glowed.

Beside me, Zane tensed. His whole body coiled like he was one heartbeat away from lunging, but I reached out and brushed his hand. Just once.

This wasn’t his war to fight.

It was mine.

I stepped forward, slow and steady, my voice ringing out like a bell cutting through fog.

"There’s no point in arguing," I said. "I don’t need to explain anything."

I paused. Let the silence lean in, curious.

"I just need to prove it."

The entire ballroom froze.

Like someone had ripped the air out of the room.

All eyes locked on me. Some with pity. Some with horror. Most with suspicion.

From the back, someone whispered, "She’s bluffing. She has to be."

Darius let out a short, sharp laugh. "Natalie. Enough," he said, his smile now brittle. "Don’t embarrass yourself. You can’t prove anything—"

He didn’t get to finish.

Because that’s when I smiled.

Not politely. Not nervously.

It was a slow, lethal smile. A warning dressed as confidence.

I watched Darius falter. Just for a heartbeat.

That was all I needed.

Without saying another word, I stepped away from the podium. The hush in the room thickened. My heartbeat echoed like a drum.

I closed my eyes.

And I let go.

It didn’t hurt.

It wasn’t chaos.

It was coming home.

Power surged through my veins like lightning made of memory. My bones shifted and realigned. My skin shimmered. My gown vanished into light. And in the blink of an eye, the girl they had mocked—the girl they had cast aside—was gone.

In her place stood Jasmine.

My wolf. My best friend.

Silver-white fur shimmered under the chandeliers like moonlight poured into flesh. My paws touched down on marble with the grace of a queen. My body moved like water and wildfire.

And the silence?

It shattered.

Gasps turned into screams.

Some scrambled backwards, eyes wide with disbelief.

Others could only stare, mouths hanging open as if the truth had physically slapped them.

Near the edge of the room, Jacob stood tall, beaming with pride like a brother who always knew I had it in me.

Fox and Eagle leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, trading smug grins like they’d just watched a prophecy unfold.

And Zane—

Zane looked like he couldn’t breathe.

His eyes now blazed gold, wild and in awe, and his hand clutched at his chest like his heart had just been claimed all over again.

But Darius?

Oh, Darius.

His face was a masterpiece.

All the arrogance melted away. His jaw dropped. His pupils shrank. His mask slipped.

And his hands—his perfectly controlled hands—trembled.

Just a little.

Just enough.

I raised my head high, fur glowing under the crystal lights, and let a low growl ripple from my chest.

It wasn’t loud.

But it was enough.

It echoed off the palace walls like thunder rolling across the sky.

And in that moment, the truth crashed down on them like a wave:

I wasn’t cursed.

I wasn’t broken.

I wasn’t wolfless.

I was Natalie Cross.

And I had a wolf.