The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter Chapter 222: Chill in the Shadows

Natalie~

The chill hadn’t left my skin. It clung to like an unwanted second layer, wrapping around my bones with invisible fingers. I stared at the ceiling, too stiff to move, my breath shallow, heart racing like it was trying to flee my chest.

How?

How the hell did she get in?

This house was protected. Not just by simple werewolf runes or a half-baked enchantnt from so backwoods witch. No—Tiger had reinforced every inch of it with celestial wards. Jacob and I had etched protective sigils across the thresholds. Even Fox had sealed the place with his fire magic, just to be extra annoying about it. There was no way—no way—Kalmia should’ve been able to get through.

And yet... she had.

The darkness had slithered into our sanctuary like smoke under a door. I could feel it, still tingling along my spine.

Zane stirred behind , his voice groggy but instantly alert. "Natalie?"

I didn’t answer at first. My lips were parted, but nothing ca out. I turned slowly to look at him—his obsidian eyes now sharp, glowing faintly red under the soft light of the bedside lamp.

"You scread," he said, sitting up fully now, muscles tense and coiled beneath his sleep shirt. "What happened?"

"She was here." My voice cracked. "Zane... she was just in this room."

His expression hardened like a sheet of ice freezing over a lake. "Who?"

"Kalmia." I swallowed, pushing myself up against the headboard. "She was in the dream, but it wasn’t just a dream. She tried to... to touch . To take sothing from . I don’t know what, but—Zane, the air—it’s still cold. That’s not normal."

He didn’t question it. Not for a second. His instincts kicked in imdiately. He moved like a shadow, silent and predatory, scanning every corner of the room with his wolf senses wide open. Red was close to the surface. I could feel it radiating off him like heat before a wildfire.

"You’re absolutely sure?" he asked, voice low, deadly calm.

"Yes," I breathed. "That chill? It’s her. Jasmine felt it too."

"She tried to push us out," Jasmine’s voice echoed in my head, laced with fury and disgust. "I don’t know how, but I felt her digging around inside our body—like she was trying to yank our soul out by its roots."

"I felt it too," I murmured aloud. "But it didn’t work. Whatever ga she’s playing, I’m not going to be her pawn."

Zane looked at then—really looked at —and sothing in his eyes softened. Still intense, still protective, but proud. "What do you want to do?" he asked. "Should we call Jacob?"

I shook my head. "No. If Kalmia wants to pick a fight, then she’s picked the wrong damn girl. I’m not afraid of her. She’s a third-rate demon with a good makeup routine."

"Burn," Jasmine giggled.

"What bothers more," I continued, pushing the covers off , "is how she got in. I’m going to reinforce every ward, every sigil, every celestial boundary. She breaks through again, and I’ll send her back to the hell-hole she crawled out of."

Zane’s lips curved into a faint smirk. "There’s my feisty girl."

I closed my eyes, reaching deep inside, calling on the ancient light that burned in my chest. My celestial magic pulsed through like starlight being squeezed through mortal veins. The room glowed as I whispered in a tongue no human—or werewolf—could understand. Symbols appeared like fireflies in the air, dancing and latching to the walls, the windows, the doorfras.

Fox would’ve teased for making it too sparkly.

When it was done, the entire house shimred for a second—just a flicker—before the glow faded. Jasmine humd inside , pleased.

"That should hold," I said, finally crawling back into bed.

Zane was already waiting, arms open. I curled into his chest, pressing my ear to the rhythmic beat of his heart.

"I swear," he whispered into my hair, "I always feel the safest when I’m with you. You don’t even need Jacob or the others. You make feel like I could sleep through a war."

"You’d snore through a war," I mumbled, grinning.

He chuckled low, wrapping tighter. "I’m serious. You’re terrifying... and perfect."

I sighed contentedly, the warmth of him washing the cold away. Sleep ca slower this ti, but when it did, it was peaceful. No shadows. No demons. Just the steady rise and fall of his chest and Jasmine’s sleepy sass in the back of my mind.

********

Morning ca with a sliver of golden light peeking through the curtains and the sll of sothing mouth-wateringly delicious wafting from the kitchen.

Fox.

I stretched, then imdiately rolled into Zane, who groaned and pulled back under the covers.

"I sll pancakes," I whispered.

"I sll you," he murmured into my neck. "And you win."

I laughed and smacked his chest lightly. "Co on, lazy prince. Let’s go before your son eats everything."

Sure enough, in the kitchen, Fox stood flipping pancakes with one hand while levitating coffee cups with the other. His hair was tied in a ssy knot, and he wore an apron that read "Kiss the Chef or Else".

"Morning, lovebirds," he greeted us with a grin. "Breakfast is served. Hope you like your pancakes golden, fluffy, and potentially enchanted."

There were only a handful of us around today—Zane, Alex, Fox, Griffin, and . Jacob and Easter were still with Tiger. Bubble had vanished again, no surprise there—off doing whatever secretive water spirit stuff he’s always up to. And Eagle? Last I heard, he’d teleported back to Paris and picked up right where he left off—making Nora and Charlie’s lives a living nightmare exactly the way I asked him to.

Alexander was already at the table, syrup sared across his cheek. "Mommy, Natalie! You’re up! Where’s Rose? And Auntie Easter?"

My smile faltered for a split second. I knelt beside him. "They had to go on a little trip, sweet pea. But they’ll be back soon, I promise."

Guilt knifed through my chest. I hadn’t stopped thinking about Easter. About how I risked her ntal health and that of her daughter’s... about how I hadn’t protected her.

Fox shot a knowing look as he set a stack of pancakes down. "No brooding allowed at the breakfast table, Natalie."

Zane took his seat at the head of the table beside Alexander and began helping him pour juice. I sat next to Fox, across from the empty chair that should’ve been occupied by Griffin.

"Griffin’s not down yet?" I asked, glancing toward the hallway.

Fox shook his head. "He’s probably still knocked out from yesterday. Can’t bla him."

I let out a guilty sigh.

"Let go check," I said, starting to push my chair back.

"I’ll go," Fox offered, already standing. "Maybe he needs a motivational kick in the—"

He didn’t get to finish.

Because that’s when Griffin stumbled into the room.

And everything stopped.

Blood.

So much blood.

It soaked through his shirt, sared across his lips, and dripped from his trembling fingers. He looked pale—ashen—his eyes wild and unfocused as if he couldn’t see us, even though we were right there.

"Griffin?" I whispered, heart stalling in my chest.

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but only a choked gurgle ca out.

Then he collapsed.

Right there. In front of us all.

Face-first.

Unmoving.

The plate of pancakes shattered on the floor. Alex scread. Zane vaulted over the table in a blur. I dropped to my knees, hands already glowing, trying to find a pulse.

There was one. Weak. Fading.

But it was there.

"Fox!" I barked. "Get towels. Water. Anything—now!"

Fox was already moving, a blur of red fire and shock

Zane had Griffin in his arms, holding him gently like he was made of glass. "What the hell happened to him?"

I looked up at Zane, my hands stained crimson, heart racing with fury and dread.

"I don’t know," I said.

But deep inside , Jasmine was growling.

"This isn’t random. This is a ssage."

And I believed her.

Because sothing dark had begun to unravel.

And whatever it was...

It had just arrived at our doorstep.