The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter Chapter 275: Tangled Hearts

Easter~

The shopping mall’s fluorescent lights still buzzed in my mind as Jacob’s hand enveloped mine, his grip firm yet achingly gentle, guiding through the parking lot. My heart thundered, each beat a frantic drum against my ribcage, stirred by the way he’d sent Brandon scurrying with that bone-crushing handshake. Jacob’s face now was a mask of calm, but his brown eyes—those deep, ancient pools—held a storm I couldn’t quite decipher. Was it anger? Jealousy? Sothing else entirely? I clutched the mango juice tighter, its cold sweat slick against my palm, and tried to ignore the flutter in my belly—partly the baby, partly sothing far more dangerous.

"Easter," Jacob’s voice shattered my thoughts, low and edged with sothing raw laced in it. He stopped by his nice black car, turning to face . His tousled silky hair caught the early afternoon sun, and for a mont, he looked like a painting—too perfect, too untouchable. "You okay?"

I nodded, my throat tight. "Yeah. Just... shaken up, I guess." My voice wavered, betraying the chaos inside . Brandon’s lingering touch on my cheek still burned, but it was Jacob’s presence that set my skin ablaze.

His jaw tightened, a muscle ticking beneath his sharp cheekbone. "That guy... Brandon." He spat the na like it tasted foul. "He’s got no business touching you like that." His eyes flicked to my face, then to my belly, where my hand rested protectively. "You don’t need people like him sniffing around you."

I blinked, startled by the possessive edge in his tone. "He’s just a classmate," I said, my voice small. "He didn’t an anything by it."

Jacob’s laugh was sharp, humorless. "Didn’t an anything? Easter, the way he looked at you..." He stepped closer, his body heat wrapping around like a cloak. "I know what n like him want. And you—" His voice softened, but his eyes darkened, fierce and unmoving. "You deserve better."

My breath hitched. The very air between us crackled, thickening with an unspoken energy. I wanted to tell him he was wrong, that I wasn’t worth anyone’s devotion, least of all his. But the words died in my throat as he opened the car door for , his gaze never leaving mine.

What the hell was happening?!

"Co back to my place," he said suddenly, his voice low, almost a growl. "I could use your help setting up so of the stuffs we bought today."

I froze, my eyes widened with surprise. "Your... place?" Jacob, the mysterious, unfairly handso neighbor who’d only just moved in across the street, was inviting into his ho? My heart stuttered, torn between caution and the reckless pull I felt toward him. "I... I don’t know, Jacob. It’s late, Rose’s school would close, and—"

"Rose’s school won’t be done for an hour. She will be fine," he cut in, his tone gentle but insistent. "Please, Easter. I’d really like your company." His lips curved into a small, boyish smile, but his eyes held that sa stormy intensity, daring to say yes.

I swallowed hard, nodding before I could overthink it. "Okay."

The drive to his house was silent, save for the hum of the engine and the pounding of my pulse in my ears. Jacob’s hands gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles whitened, as if he were wrestling with sothing inside himself. I stole glances at him, at the way his black t-shirt hugged his lean, muscular fra, at the faint birthmark above his left eyebrow that only added to his rugged allure. My fingers itched to touch him, to trace the lines of his face, but I curled them into fists instead, reminding myself he was just being kind. He couldn’t possibly feel what I did.

His house was a modest two-story with ivy creeping up the walls, still bare inside from his recent move. As we stepped inside, the scent of fresh paint and cedar hit , mingling with sothing—earthy, wild, like a forest after rain. Boxes were stacked haphazardly in the living room, and a single leather couch sat against the wall, looking out of place in the empty space.

"You weren’t kidding about needing help," I teased, trying to lighten the tension coiling in my chest.

He chuckled, the sound warm and rich, but his eyes were still intense, watching like I was the entertainnt in the room. "Yeah, it’s a ss. But..." He stepped closer, his voice dropping. "I figured you might have a knack for making things beautiful."

My cheeks flushed, the blush I could never hide spreading like wildfire. "I’m not sure about that," I mumbled, looking away, but his fingers caught my chin, tilting my face up to et his gaze.

"You have no idea, do you?" he murmured, his thumb brushing my jaw. "How beautiful you are."

My jaw dropped, heart stopped. The room seed to shrink, the air thickened with the implication of his words. "Jacob, I—"

"Sit," he said softly, guiding to the couch. "You’ve been on your feet too long. Those swollen ankles must be killing you."

I hesitated, then sank onto the couch, my belly making clumsier than usual. "They’re not that bad," I protested, but he was already kneeling before , his hands gentle as he lifted one of my feet onto his lap.

"Let ," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. His fingers began to knead my swollen ankle, strong yet careful, and I gasped at the sudden relief—and the electric jolt of his touch. My heart raced, hamring so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

"Jacob, you don’t have to—"

"I want to," he interrupted, his eyes locked on mine, dark and unexplainable. "You deserve to be taken care of, Easter." His hands moved higher, massaging my calf, and I bit my lip to stifle a moan. His touch was fire, igniting every nerve in my body, and I was helpless against it.

"Jacob..." My voice ca out small, trembling with the emotions I’d tried so hard to bury. "Why are you doing this?"

He paused, his hands stilling on my leg, and for a mont, I thought I’d ruined everything. But then he leaned forward, his face inches from mine, his breath warm against my lips. "Because I can’t stand the thought of anyone else touching you," he said, his voice rough with possession. "Because every ti I see you, I want to pull you close and never let go."

My breath caught, my eyes widened with shock. "But... we barely know each other," I stamred, even as my body leaned toward him, drawn like a moth to fla.

"I know enough," he growled, and then his lips were on mine, fierce and hungry, stealing the air from my lungs. His kiss was a storm, all-consuming, and I lted into it, my hands tangling in his thick dark hair. He tasted like cinnamon and sothing wild, sothing I could quite place, and I was drowning in him.

"Easter," he murmured against my lips, his hands sliding up my arms, possessive yet tender. "You’re mine. You’ve always been mine." His words were a smooth blade, cutting through my doubts, and I whimpered as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing against mine, pinning to the couch.

I was lost, swept away by the heat of his mouth, the strength of his hands, the raw need in his voice. My fingers clutched his shirt, pulling him closer, and he groaned, a sound that vibrated through , setting my blood on fire. His lips trailed down my jaw, my neck, leaving a path of sparks in their wake, and I arched into him, desperate for more.

But then, he froze.

His body went rigid, his breath ragged against my skin. "Easter, I..." He pulled back, his eyes wild with sothing I couldn’t na. Was it guilt? Fear? "I’m sorry," he said, his voice breaking. "I shouldn’t have—"

"Jacob, what’s wrong?" I reached for him, but he was already standing, running a hand through his hair, his expression tortured.

"I have to go," he said, his voice strained. "I’m so sorry, Easter. I didn’t an to... I’ll be back soon." He shook his head, as if fighting so inner battle, and headed for the door.

"Jacob, wait!" I called, my voice cracking with confusion and hurt. But he was already outside, the door slamming behind him. I heard the roar of his car engine, then silence, leaving alone on his couch, my lips still tingling from his kiss, my heart a tangled ss of longing and bewildernt.

What just happened?

I sat there, stunned, my fingers brushing my swollen lips, trying to make sense of the whirlwind that was Jacob. His words echoed in my mind—"You’re mine. You’ve always been mine."—but they made no sense. We were strangers, weren’t we? Just neighbors who barely knew each other. Yet the way he’d looked at , the way he’d kissed , felt like a promise forged in another lifeti.

A soft ow snapped out of my daze. I turned, my heart lurching as a fat, orange tabby cat sauntered out of a side room, stretching languidly. Its golden eyes locked on mine, and with a sudden burst of energy, it bounded toward , leaping onto the couch and nuzzling my hand with a loud purr.

"Donut?" I whispered, my voice trembling. My head throbbed, a sharp, sudden pain lancing through my skull. I clutched my temples, images flickering in my mind—Donut, a life I couldn’t grasp. "How... how... do I know you?"

The cat owed again, curling into my lap as if it belonged there. My vision blurred with tears, the ache in my head warring with the ache in my heart. Jacob’s kiss, his sudden departure, this cat—none of it made sense, yet it felt like pieces of a puzzle I’d forgotten how to solve.

I sat there, alone in Jacob’s house, Donut’s warmth grounding as my world spun apart, wondering who Jacob really was—and why my heart insisted he was more than just the man next door.