The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter Chapter 298: The Awakening of the Wolf

Easter~

The pain didn’t announce itself. It didn’t build up or give warning. It struck—sudden, ruthless—like a thief slipping through a window in the dead of night.

One mont, I was lying there, dazed and breathless, blinking up at a moon-drenched ceiling that felt both familiar and foreign. My thoughts were a ss—half tangled in the faces I didn’t recognize, half drowning in the surreal joy of seeing my baby for the first ti. She was beautiful. Tiny, warm, soft against my chest, as if made of stardust and breath. When I held her, for a second, the world had stopped spinning. Everything had felt... right.

Then it hit .

A blistering heat shot through my body like lightning trapped in my veins. It was fire, pure and unforgiving—crawling under my skin, setting my nerves ablaze. It wasn’t pain in the normal sense. It was worse. It felt ancient, wrong, like my very soul was being rewritten against its will.

At first, I tried to brush it off. Maybe it’s normal, I told myself. Maybe this is just what happens after giving birth. But no one talks about this kind of aftermath. No one warns you that your bones might feel like they’re breaking from the inside out, or that your heartbeat might sound like war drums in your ears.

I hadn’t even held my daughter for five whole minutes. Just enough to morize the weight of her. The way she sighed into like she already knew I was hers. Just enough ti to fall in love.

And then my body betrayed .

My muscles locked. My vision blurred. My back arched violently off the bed as if sothing inside wanted out.

"Jacob!" I choked out his na, raw and cracked, like my throat had been scraped with glass.

Through the fog in my mind, I could only recognize him.

How could I forget the man who moved into the house across from mine with that easy smile and those wild, brown eyes? The guy who always slled like pine trees and distant rain. The one who waved every morning like we shared so inside joke I didn’t rember agreeing to.

The man I stupidly fell for—fast, reckless, headfirst—only to realize later there was sothing off about him. Too many coincidences. Too many tis I "bumped into" him in places he shouldn’t have been. He was charming, sure, but underneath all that charm was sothing I couldn’t quite na. Sothing dangerous.

Still, he was the only face I recognized in that room.

Everyone else—those beautiful strangers who looked like they belonged on the cover of fantasy novels or ancient myth—were completely unknown to . Not just unknown—unreal. Their skin seed to glow, like the moon had kissed them on purpose. Their eyes sparkled in strange hues, not quite human. They didn’t blink as often as they should. They were watching with this strange mix of wonder, worry, and... guilt.

And I was lying there, shaking, hurting, terrified. My baby gone from my arms. My body unraveling. The world tilting sideways.

And Jacob—Jacob looked like he knew exactly what was happening.

Like he’d seen it before.

Like he was the problem.

"Jacob, please," I begged again, reaching for him as my body arched violently. "Make it stop! What’s happening to ?!"

He was already at my side, his warm hand clutching mine. His face was too close, too calm—and sohow too broken. His deep brown eyes shimred with grief.

"I’m here, Easter," he whispered, pressing his forehead to mine. "I’ve got you. Just breathe, love. You’re shifting."

"Shifting?! What—what does that even an?!" I cried, thrashing as my spine twisted sharply, the sound of bone against bone echoing in my ears like breaking branches. My fingers bent in unnatural angles. I felt them dislocate, reform, stretch. "Oh God, oh God, am I dying?! Jacob, am I dying?!"

"No, you’re not dying." The voice ca from the tall man with green eyes and golden-brown hair. His voice was calm but rumbled like thunder. He stepped forward and raised a hand glowing faintly with green light.

Before I could scream again, the world changed.

The bed vanished.

The walls, the windows, the floor—gone.

Suddenly, I was on the forest floor. Cold, damp soil beneath my back. The air was filled with the scent of pine and earth. I could hear distant howls, the rustle of leaves, the sharp snap of twigs underfoot. Fireflies blinked in the trees like scattered stars.

"What the hell..." I gasped, sitting up.

But I wasn’t alone.

They were all still with . The silent man with the storm-colored eyes and endlessly flowing black hair stood by a tree, his silver gaze fixed on like a hawk’s. The fiery one—the red-haired man—was crouched beside a tree stump, casually tossing pebbles at a raccoon that stared at him like it owed him money. The man with the translucent blue eyes sat under the stars, gently patting the back of my daughter.

"Rose?" I gasped.

My baby girl was curled up against his chest, fast asleep, her curls a dark halo around her peaceful face.

The red-haired woman—fierce and beautiful—sat beside a glowing tree trunk with a tiny bundle in her arms. My newborn. Sleeping, serene, as if her mother’s world wasn’t burning down around her.

"Why are they so calm?" I whispered. "Why is everyone so calm? I’m falling apart!"

"No, you’re becoming," the green-eyed man said softly.

"Becoming what?!" I snapped. "My bones are cracking!"

And just like that, my ribs shifted again—jerking violently as they moved and realigned. I scread and clawed at the earth. My legs spasd. My nails scraped furrows into the dirt. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. Painfully slow, my jaw... it popped, twisted, reford—

And then, everything stopped.

The silence was eerie. Unnatural. Even the wind held its breath.

I lifted my head slowly, my body trembling. Sothing felt... wrong. Off. I was a bit low to the ground. My limbs—long, strange, too heavy in so places, too light in others.

I glanced down.

I wasn’t looking at my arms.

I was looking at paws.

Massive, silvery-grey, claw-tipped paws.

"No..." My breath caught in my throat. "No, no, no..."

I scrambled backward, but my legs didn’t move right. I stood—on all fours. Four.

"What the actual—"

"Easter," Jacob said gently, kneeling in front of , "you’re okay."

"I’m not okay!" I barked.

Actually... I literally barked.

A bark burst out of my mouth.

A loud, desperate, canine bark.

My eyes widened in horror.

"What is happening to ?! What am I?!"

And that’s when it happened.

A voice ca out of nowhere.

Inside my head.

Not mine. Not Jacob’s.

"My na is Kiki," it said, soft and musical. "And I’m very glad to et you."

My entire body went stiff.

"What?!" I howled—again, the sound not quite human, not quite wolf.

"Don’t be afraid," the voice continued. "I’m your other half. Your wolf. We’re one now."

"Nope. No, no, no!" I bolted, skittering backward with more speed than grace, crashing into a bush. "Get out of my head! I’m dreaming—I have to be dreaming! JACOB!"

Jacob tried to step forward, but I panicked. I ran.

I tore through the woods like sothing feral, the wind screaming past my ears, my heartbeat a thunderous drum in my chest. Branches slapped against my fur—fur! I had fur!—and the earth thundered beneath my pounding paws.

I couldn’t outrun the voice.

I couldn’t outrun myself.

"Please," Kiki whispered again, gently this ti. "I’m here to protect you. To love you. You don’t have to be afraid of ."

"I don’t even know you!"

"But I know you, Easter."

"Stop it!" I wailed inside my own mind. "I have kids! I’m not supposed to be a freaking animal! What am I supposed to do, howl lullabies?!"

I stumbled to a halt at the edge of a narrow stream, lungs burning, paws unsteady against the wet earth. My breath ca in ragged bursts, fogging the night air, while curls of steam rose from my trembling fur. The adrenaline was fading, but the panic still clung to like thorns.

I lowered my head, eyes locking onto the rippling surface of the water.

There she was.

A wolf stared back—wild-eyed, chest rising and falling in uneven heaves, ears twitching with leftover fear. Her coat was slick with sweat and rain, bristled from the run. But it wasn’t the fur or the shape that made my stomach twist.

It was her eyes.

Green.

Still green.

Still mine.

Still... .

I didn’t move. Didn’t blink. The world seed to blur around that single truth. My heart thundered in my chest, loud enough to drown out the wind in the trees. I didn’t know how long I stood there, suspended in that strange space between recognition and disbelief—until sothing shifted in the underbrush.

A soft rustle. Not threatening. Just... there.

I jerked around, muscles taut, but it wasn’t danger that stepped into the clearing.

It was Jacob.

He erged slowly from behind a tree, his presence quiet but solid, like the forest had shaped itself to allow him through. No stern commands. No scolding. Just a steady calm in his gaze that I couldn’t quite understand. It wasn’t pity. It wasn’t fear.

It was sothing else entirely.

He raised a hand—slowly, gently, like he was approaching a wounded animal.

"Easter," he said, voice low and grounding. "Please... just breathe. I know you’re scared, but I need you to calm down. I promise—I’m going to explain everything."