The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter-Chapter 220: The Touch of Ice

Natalie~

Griffin’s weight in my arms was heavy but bearable. He clung to me like a man hanging onto the last thread of sanity, his trembling fingers fisting the back of my dress. My heart ached for him—for the brokenness in his eyes, for the part of me that still remembered what it felt like to be unwanted and alone.

Fox stood beside me, his body flickering with heat as his flames hissed and popped in the moonlight. "We need to get him out of here," he said quietly, but there was steel in his voice.

I nodded. My pulse was a thundering drum. "I’ve got him."

In the blink of an eye, I reached out with my power and teleported. One second we were standing in front of that rotting house of ghosts and nightmares—and the next, we were back inside Zane’s estate. Safe. Home.

I eased Griffin onto the bed in the guest room he’d been crashing in, careful not to jolt his battered frame as I pulled the covers over him. His head lolled to the side, and I brushed the matted hair from his sweat-slicked forehead. "You’re safe now," I whispered, more to myself than to him.

He didn’t respond.

Fox lounged in the doorway, arms crossed, his fire-kissed eyes flickering with a mix of concern and calculation. "I hate this," he growled low. "Yeah, he didn’t deserve what happened to him—but something about this doesn’t sit right."

"I know," I whispered. The weight in my chest hadn’t let up since we found Griffin. "But he’s alive. He’s still him. That has to mean something."

It had to.

I exhaled shakily and stood, brushing off invisible dust. My fingers trembled as I brought them to my temples and closed my eyes.

"Zane," I called through the mind link, my heart stuttering. "I—there’s so much I need to tell you. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier. I didn’t mean to miss the coronation, and I know—"

"Oh, hi my love." His voice cut through the chaos in my head like a warm blade. Deep. Steady. "I’m almost home. Alex and I are five minutes away."

I froze, every nerve in my body lighting up. He was almost here. He’s coming home.

"I need air," I whispered to Fox, already racing out of the room and down the stairs before he could say anything.

The night air hit me like a gentle slap—cool, sharp, smelling faintly of pine and something electric. My heels clicked on the stone steps as I sprinted outside, heart galloping like a wild beast. The estate’s long driveway stretched ahead of me, bathed in moonlight, and just as I reached the edge of the courtyard—

A nice, red sports car rounded the curve, its headlights flashing like stars.

It was 9:30 pm exactly.

And I didn’t wait.

I ran.

Before Zane even came to a full stop, I was already by the passenger door, yanking it open like a madwoman. The scent that hit me was unmistakable—sweet, sugary candy. Sebastian. Of course this was his car.

But I couldn’t care less.

"Alexander!" I cried out, and there he was—my little wolf pup, grinning from ear to ear.

"Mummy, Natalie!" he squealed, diving into my arms. I lifted him off the seat, hugging him so tightly he giggled and squeaked.

"I missed you, I missed you so much!" I gasped between kisses to his cheeks, forehead, hair—his little nose.

"I was only gone for a day," he giggled. "Not even a full day!"

"Still felt like years," I said dramatically, grinning as he buried his face in my neck.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you more," I whispered back.

"Impossible!" he countered.

We laughed.

Behind me, the driver’s door slammed shut.

"Well," Zane’s voice drawled teasingly, "I guess I’ll just go back to where I came from. No big deal. Not like I missed you or anything."

I turned, still holding Alex, and faced him.

Zane.

Tall, regal, dressed in a dark button-up with sleeves rolled to his forearms. His blonde hair was slightly tousled. His lips curled into that cocky, perfect smirk that had no right to be as sexy as it was.

"Oh, come here," I said, laughing, and I rushed into his arms too.

The three of us tangled together in a big messy hug—Zane’s strong arms wrapping around both me and Alex. For a moment, nothing else mattered. Not the shadows, not the pain, not even the guilt clawing at my chest.

We were together.

"I missed you too," I murmured against his chest.

"You better have," he teased, kissing the top of my head.

Back inside, the warm lights of the estate welcomed us home. Fox was in the hallway, leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed like a smug older brother.

"Alex!" he called.

"Uncle Fox!" Alex grinned, squirming out of my arms and racing toward him.

Fox swept him up effortlessly, tossing him into the air just a little—enough to make Alex squeal—and caught him with practiced ease.

"I’ve got snacks with your name on them," he whispered loudly.

Alex gasped. "Is it the marshmallow-jelly sandwich again?"

"Better. With sprinkles."

As Fox and Alex disappeared down the hallway, their voices fading into the distance, I turned to Zane. My heart was pounding in that quiet, heavy way it does when you know a storm’s coming—and you’re the one who caused it.

"Come upstairs," I said softly, but there was no mistaking the gravity in my voice. "We need to talk."

He didn’t say a word. Just nodded once and followed me.

My room was dimly lit, bathed in the warm light of a bedside lamp. The familiar scent of lavender and roses hung in the space, a strange contrast to the weight pressing on my chest.

Zane closed the door behind us and leaned back against it, arms loose at his sides, eyes locked on me. Those dark, impossibly deep eyes of his—always calm, always controlled—studied me like he already knew I was about to break.

I started pacing. My feet moved on instinct while my mind spiraled. I chewed my bottom lip, trying to piece my thoughts together into something coherent, something less like guilt and more like explanation.

Then I stopped. Turned. Faced him head-on.

"I messed up," I said, no dramatic build-up, no sugar-coating. Just the truth, raw and ugly.

His brow furrowed. "Natalie—"

"I missed your coronation." The words slipped out in a cracked whisper before I could stop them. My throat tightened. "I was supposed to be there beside you. I wanted to be. But because I lost control I couldn’t."

Zane didn’t speak, but I could feel the shift in his energy. He was listening—intently. Still and silent like the eye of a hurricane.

"Easter," I continued, forcing the words out. "She was there when it happened. In the middle of the chaos I caused. Blood. Bodies. I—I turned your estate into a battlefield. People got hurt. And then... Griffin went missing. I didn’t even notice any of this until it was too late."

At the mention of Griffin, his expression darkened, shadows pooling in his gaze like storm clouds gathering over the sea. He didn’t explode or yell. He didn’t need to.

His silence hit harder than any words.

I rushed on. "Fox and I searched everywhere. We finally found him—barely conscious, alone, in some abandoned house deep in the woods. He’s upstairs now. Resting. I just... I’m sorry. I should’ve called. I should’ve come to you first."

He was silent for a long moment.

Then he pushed off the door and crossed the room to me, taking my hands in his.

"You’re always trying to protect everyone," he said softly. "Even the ones who hurt you."

My throat tightened. "He’s my responsibility."

"I know."

"Are you angry?"

"I’m not thrilled," he admitted. "But I understand."

I leaned into his chest, letting his warmth soak into me.

"I’ll make it up to you for missing your important day," I whispered. "I swear. Just tell me what you want. Anything."

Zane pulled back slightly, raising an eyebrow.

"Anything?" he repeated with a sly grin.

My eyes narrowed. "Why does that grin worry me?"

"Because," he said with a low chuckle, "I’ve got a very long list of compensation requests. And they start with you in something scandalous for my eyes only."

I smacked his arm playfully, but I was laughing.

"I really did miss you," I said.

"I know," he said, kissing me gently. "I missed you too."

Later that night, wrapped up in Zane’s arms, I finally felt like I could exhale. Like the world had paused just long enough for me to feel sane again. His heartbeat was a quiet, steady thump against my back—calm, grounding, real. I felt safe.

But safety is a fragile thing.

Because then came the dream. freewebnoveℓ.com

I was standing alone in a forest made of bones and silence. The trees were skeletal—twisted, brittle things that reached for the sky like they were begging. Their branches creaked under a weight I couldn’t see. Snow didn’t fall from the sky—it rose from the ground, slow and eerie, like the world had forgotten how gravity worked. And above, the sky was bruised purple and grey, like it had been punched too many times and left to ache.

That’s when she came.

Kalmia.

A demon in a woman’s skin. Beautiful in the way venom glistens. Cloaked in living shadows that rippled around her like smoke. Her lips were blood-red poison, her eyes twin lanterns of hunger. She didn’t walk so much as glide, silent, effortless—like she belonged to the nightmare.

"You’re slipping, Natalie," she murmured, her voice like oil on water—slick, cold, wrong. "So easy to break... once you start to care."

I wanted to move. To yell. To punch her square in the face. But my body betrayed me—frozen, locked in place like a statue carved from fear.

She reached for me.

Her fingers weren’t fingers anymore—just smoke and rot and darkness curling toward my chest. Toward my heart.

"Let’s see what your soul tastes like."

I screamed.

And just like that—I woke up.

Gasping. Soaked in sweat. My chest rising and falling like I’d run a marathon. My heart hammering hard enough to crack ribs.

Beside me, Zane stirred. "Natalie?"

But I didn’t answer.

Because I felt it before I saw it.

The air had changed.

The room was cold—not normal cold. Not winter-window-left-open cold. This was the kind of cold that clung. That crept into your skin like it had claws. The kind of cold that left frost on your bones and whispered promises you didn’t want to hear.

She’d been here.

Kalmia.

This wasn’t just a dream.

It was real.

She was real. And she’d been here.

But how?

How had she gotten in?

And—more annoying than anything else—what did she want from me?