The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter Chapter 246: Dear Mother

Natalie~

"Mother?" I whispered into the silence, my voice trembling like a string pulled too tight.

For a breath, nothing answered. Just the heavy hush of the room, Zane’s ragged breathing, and the faint flicker of candlelight dancing along the carved stone walls.

Then ca the sound.

A soft, lilting laugh—like silver bells tinkling through mist. It was familiar, sohow—comforting and strange all at once.

"Oh, my child," the voice said with amused affection. "How could you so easily forget your mother’s voice? I’m wounded."

I blinked, heart lurching against my ribs. "Wait... wait—what?"

A playful sigh echoed around the room. "Truly, I should be offended. My daughter doesn’t recognize her own mother."

Jasmine stirred in my mind, alert and amused. "Oh, she’s dramatic. That’s one of the many reasons I love her so much."

My knees nearly buckled. "I—no, I didn’t an to, mother—I just—" I stumbled over my words. "I’ve got a lot going on, okay?! Zane’s dying, Griffin’s withering away like a dried-up leaf, Mist isn’t answering my calls, and there’s this creepy soul-sucking demon slinking around us like it owns our damn live!—sorry, language—and you know my stress threshold is dangerously thin!"

Silence filled the room.

Then another soft laugh. "Still fiery, even in panic. That’s my Mara."

I inhaled sharply.

Mara.

Gods, I missed that na.

No one said it like she did—like it was a lody woven from starlight and bedti stories, soft enough to make feel five years old again and safe under a sky full of wonder.

"...Mother?" My voice cracked, barely above a breath, tears already brimming like a storm waiting to break.

"Yes, darling. I’m here."

I pressed my hand against my chest, grounding myself as a strange warmth blood inside —like sunrise thawing through the frozen parts of my soul.

"Why didn’t you co sooner?" I whispered, voice cracking. "Why now?"

Her reply was maddeningly simple. "You didn’t ask ."

My head tipped back. I stared up at the ceiling like it might have the answers. "I did," I said, voice rising. "I scread your na a thousand tis. When I was sobbing on the cold floors of Darius’s dungeon. When I was the cursed girl with no wolf and everyone looked at like I was broken. When I was branded by that bastard alpha—rember him? I do. When I was curled up in that filthy alley with no one. When I was in the shelter. I begged you. Where the hell were you then?"

The air seed to hold its breath. The light bulbs above dimd, flickering like they too were unsure.

Then she said it—softly, but like a bell in the dark. "Watching. Always watching."

I swallowed hard, jaw clenched. "Then why didn’t you do sothing? Why didn’t you float down from your goddess cloud and blast everything to hell with your celestial sparkle powers or whatever?"

She didn’t even sound affected.

"Because," she said, gently, "you weren’t ant to be rescued from that pain. You were ant to rise through it."

I blinked at the ceiling like it might split open from sheer disbelief.

"I begged you," I whispered, my voice thinner than paper.

"I know," she said.

"I was alone."

"No," she said, softer now. "You weren’t. Jasmine was with you. I was with you. Your brothers. All of us. We were waiting—waiting for the mont when your soul was ready to break through."

I scoffed. "Great. Next ti, maybe the ’right mont’ doesn’t co with a soul-shattering rejection and a lunatic alpha treating like livestock. And while we’re at it, why the hell did you take my brothers’ advice and throw Griffin into the chaos when you knew I had Frederick?"

Jasmine’s voice echoed in my head, full of sass and frustration. "Yeah! What was that about? Also, locking up while Mara went through hell? Not cool, Mother. I take personal offense to that."

A soft, golden light began to fill the room like morning breaking through a dream. The shadows lted away. The air shimred.

And then—she appeared.

I gasped.

She stood at the edge of the bed, radiant and ethereal, cloaked in silver silk that shimred like stardust. Her long moon-white hair flowed past her waist, and her eyes—gods, her eyes—held galaxies in them. No exaggeration. Actual galaxies. I missed seeing those eyes.

"Mama..." The word slipped out like a forgotten lullaby.

She opened her arms.

That was all I needed.

In a twinkle of an eye, all my anger vanished like the wind.

I launched myself into her embrace with a sob, burying my face into her shoulder. She slled like moonlight and wild jasmine, like the mont between dreaming and waking.

"You ca," I whispered, clinging to her like a child. "You actually ca."

"You never have to face this world alone, Mara. Not anymore. I am always with you."

We stayed there for a mont—just mother and daughter, tiless and still.

But then... of course, my mind kicked back in.

I pulled back slightly and looked up at her. "But seriously. Why didn’t you answer back then?"

Her smile was tinged with sadness. "Because that pain shaped you. Every scar, every tear—it carved the strength in your soul. If I had interfered too soon, you’d never beco who you were ant to be. This life is different than the previous ones, Mara. This ti, you have sothing to fulfill."

I blinked. "What do you an by, ’different’? What are you trying to tell ?"

She cupped my cheek. "My love, we both know that this isn’t your first walk through the mortal world. But this life... it is your most important."

I stepped back, her words burning through my brain. "What am I supposed to fulfill?"

She smiled—but it was one of those infuriatingly vague goddess-smiles. "You’ll find out soon."

"Mother," I groaned. "Please don’t do the cryptic oracle thing—"

"It’s in the job description."

Jasmine muttered, "I vote we unionize against her."

I choked on a laugh. "Okay, fine. Whatever you say. But what do I do about my current predicant? I tried everything. Fox tried everything. Jacob won’t answer. I thought maybe—he was the only one powerful enough to deal with this kind of magic—"

"You don’t need Jacob," she interrupted, voice firm. "ou’re just as powerful, 8Mara. You’ve relied on Mist because I told all of you to lean on each other. But now it’s ti you stand in your own light. You have more power in your little finger than even Jacob has. You just haven’t learned how to use it."

I stared at her. "You’re kidding, right? Mother, I have tried every power I possess and none is working."

Her face was unreadable. "You were born to command the tides of moon and mind. To bend will, shift ti, speak to the old forces. You’ve only scratched the surface of your magic. You’ve let others hold the reins, but you—you—were born to lead."

No pressure, right?

Jasmine said, "I always told you we were badass."

I crossed my arms. "Okay, goddess of mystery and cosmic disappointnt. You’re here now. You want to fix this? Tell how."

She walked to Zane, her expression softening as she looked down at him.

"The Shadow is inside him. And Kalmia will try to reach you next. You want to trap them? Let them in."

My mouth dropped. "I’m sorry—what now?"

She turned toward , eyes glowing. "You must invite Kalmia into your body. And let Shadow fully enter Zane’s."

I blinked. Then blinked again.

"Mother, I know you’re divine and all, but have you lost your celestial mind?! That’s like... demon possession level nine! That’s not trapping, that’s welcoming the horror movie into my house!"

"Trust ."

"I don’t even trust Jacob half the ti!"

A flicker of amusent crossed her face. "You’ll know what to do when the ti cos. Your body, your magic—it will respond. You are not prey, Mara. You are the storm."

I stared at her.

She stared back.

"...Are you sure Jacob can’t handle this?"

She chuckled. "Positive."

I exhaled shakily and looked over at Zane, who was now sleeping peacefully—for now. But I could still sense Shadow curling like smoke in his bones.

I pressed my hands to my face and groaned. "Fine. Demon house party it is. This is totally not going to backfire."

Jasmine sighed in my mind. "I suggest we stock up on holy water and chocolate."

The Moon Goddess smiled like she already knew the ending of the story—and wouldn’t spoil it for the world.

"Be ready, Mara. The next ti you face Kalmia, don’t run. Invite her in."

I didn’t breathe for a mont.

Then I whispered, "I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?"

"Yes," she said sweetly. "But only a little."

And just like that—she vanished.

The light faded. The warmth cooled.

And I stood there, heart pounding, mouth agape, wondering how in the na of moonfire I was going to survive the next 48 hours.

Jasmine groaned. "Next ti she visits, I’m asking for a vacation."

"Make it two," I muttered, already reaching for the bottle of wine Fox kept under my bed for ergencies.

Because this? This was definitely an ergency.