The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter Chapter 189: Never Happened

Zane~

The ball room stood heavy with silence after Natalie’s sharp question. My father—no, the king—seed to wither beneath her stare, his aged body trembling despite the armor he wore. For a man who once commanded nations with a flick of his fingers, he looked pitiful now, kneeling and cowering before the one woman he had tried to erase.

His voice, when it ca, was weak but rushed, like he’d been holding it in for too long. "I was going to use the ball to announce my heir," he said, lifting his head slightly but not enough to et anyone’s eyes.

Whispers burst like thunder across the grand ballroom. Court nobles and council mbers turned to one another, so gasping, others cursing beneath their breath. The air thickened with speculation, fear, and tension.

My chest tightened.

The king continued, desperate, ashad. "Owen Blackthorn ca to yesterday—early morning, around 1 a.m. He barged into my chamber in a panic. He said... he had a vision." His eyes flicked toward Natalie, then to , then to the floor again. "He told that if I announced my heir... masked n would appear and kill my son and I."

Gasps ricocheted through the hall again. My father raised his hands like a man confessing to a cri. "I asked him how I could prevent it, how I could save the kingdom and myself. And he said... he said there was a woman—soone close to my son. Soone who would bring ruin to this kingdom. To him. Owen told the only way to prevent catastrophe... was to remove her. Imdiately."

The silence was unbearable.

Everyone turned to Natalie.

No longer the fragile, timid girl from the shelter. She stood tall, radiant with controlled fury, like a storm cloaked in sunlight.

A sound broke through the stunned quiet—quick footsteps. Owen.

He had been standing quietly in a corner, unnoticed until now. But the second the king spoke his na, he flinched. And when Natalie’s piercing gaze turned toward him, he did the stupidest thing he could: he ran.

"Seal the exits," Jacob’s voice cut across the room, casual but firm.

In an instant, Tiger raised a hand and roots exploded from the stone, twisting and knotting over doors and windows like living chains. The crowd backed away from the walls, murmuring in awe and fear.

Owen skidded to a halt, panic in his eyes.

Natalie moved.

Slow. Graceful. Deadly.

She walked toward Owen like she had all the ti in the world. The crowd parted for her, silent, reverent, as if the divine itself demanded space.

Owen backed up until he hit the roots blocking the exit. He tried to summon words, but they died in his throat as Natalie ca to a stop in front of him.

She didn’t say a word.

She just stared.

He looked like he was going to faint.

And then—

She laughed.

Gods, it wasn’t soft laughter. It was wild, uncontained, throwing her head back in amusent. I’d never heard anything like it from her. Not in all the ti I’d known her. That laugh was fury in disguise, and Owen knew it.

Natalie finally turned her back on him with a snort, walking back toward the throne where my father still knelt. She didn’t look at him as she spoke.

"Owen lied to you."

A gasp from the crowd. Soone whispered sothing about treason.

She turned slightly toward Owen, not fully facing him, just enough to let her voice carry. "There’s a lot we need to talk about," she said, voice like ice over fire. "Later."

Owen gulped audibly.

Good.

Natalie’s attention returned to the king. "I’m not going to forgive you," she said bluntly.

He looked as if she had stabbed him.

She continued, steady and cold. "You’ll have to earn it. But... I’ll accept your apology. For Alex’s sake. And for Zane’s."

My breath caught.

She was doing this for ?

She turned fully now, her presence still burning through the room. "I’m going to give you a chance to earn my forgiveness. Just one. If you blow it..." She paused. Her gaze darkened. "You won’t live to tell the story."

The king bowed his head lower.

I stepped toward her, but she raised her hand slightly, not yet.

She turned to Jacob. "I need the palace cleared."

Jacob smirked. "All of it?" he asked, tilting his head like a predator toying with its prey. "Or do you have exceptions, Princess?"

She didn’t answer right away.

Instead, she turned and crossed the floor toward . The chaos, the whispering courtiers, the ruined ballroom—it all fell away the second she stepped into my arms. Her body lted against mine like she was anchoring herself, like I was the only real thing in a world that had been spinning off its axis.

Her face pressed into my chest, her arms wrapped tightly around my waist. I held her without hesitation, pulling her close as if I could shield her from everything that had ever hurt her.

"The king stays," she murmured, her voice barely louder than a breath, but it echoed through all the sa. "And Zane."

I let out a long exhale, burying my nose in her hair. She slled like fire and wildflowers—dangerous and soft. I didn’t care what they were talking about, that we were surrounded. I didn’t care who was watching. She was mine. And I was never letting her go again.

Natalie pulled back slightly and glanced over her shoulder. Her gaze swept across the room, calm and commanding, until it landed on Tiger, Bubble, and Fox.

She pointed with a mischievous grin playing at her lips. "Clean-up duty, boys. You know the drill."

Tiger gave a slow, serious nod like he’d just been handed a sacred mission. Bubble gave a theatrical bow, hand to his chest, his eyes gleaming with mischief. Fox? He just clapped his hands and grinned like soone had handed him a box of fireworks and dared him to play.

Then Natalie turned toward Eagle, who stood like a statue near the double doors, his long black hair billowing in a breeze that wasn’t there. "Lift the barrier for , will you?" she said with a smile.

Eagle didn’t say a word—he didn’t need to. He simply raised a single hand, and the air shifted. I felt it—sothing heavy and ancient loosening its grip.

Everyone in the room looked totally confused but no one asked any questions.

Natalie’s brothers moved into action like a well-oiled machine of magic and myth. Jacob, with a theatrical bow, stepped forward and spread his hands out toward the room.

"As you wish, my lady," he said, voice silky, eyes gleaming.

And then it happened.

Without warning, the air thickened. A fog—thick, silver, and very silent—spilled across the ballroom floor like smoke from an unseen fire. It coiled around chairs and columns, slithered across gowns and boots. It swallowed light and breath and sound until the entire hall looked like the inside of a dream—or a nightmare.

Guests froze. So scread. Others just clutched their partners and stared into the mist, wide-eyed and panicked. I heard soone pray. Another whispered a na like it might protect them.

But none of it mattered.

The mist surged. Then—it vanished.

Just like that.

It was gone.

And when it did, the world was... different.

The once-broken mirrors lining the walls sparkled as if they had never been touched. The shattered marble beneath our feet glead like polished glass, no cracks in sight. Not a single drop of blood. Not a single shattered goblet. Not even Tiger’s vines on sealing the entrances.

It was like nothing had ever happened.

But the guests... they stood blinking, confused, smiling absently like they’d just woken from a nap and forgotten why they’d entered the room in the first place.

Their minds—wiped clean. A perfect reset.

I blinked, stunned. My heart kicked into a sprint.

"What the hell..." I muttered.

Beside , my father took a shaky step forward. His mouth dropped open. "By the gods," he breathed. "It’s as if none of it ever happened."