The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter Chapter 311: Wedding Day

Natalie~

I woke up to the sound of chaos.

Laughter, shrieks, and soone—definitely Cassandra—yelling, "She’s going to kill you if she wakes up and her eyebrows aren’t perfect!"

I groaned, rolling over, only to be t with a blinding ray of sunlight and the overwhelming scent of roses, vanilla, and... was that cake?

Before I could even blink twice, hands were all over .

"Up! Bride to be, rise and shine!" Cassandra’s voice sang as she tugged the covers off . "We have six hours till showti and you, darling, are still drooling on your pillow."

"I do not drool," I mumbled, face planted against the mattress. "I glisten with dreams."

"You drooled and talked in your sleep," Easter giggled from sowhere near the window, her baby tucked snugly against her chest in a wrap. "Sothing about Zane’s abs and chocolate syrup."

I groaned louder. "This day is already out of control."

Two of my handmaidens dashed in with steaming tea and a tray of breakfast, while another was already halfway into brushing out my hair like her life depended on it. Which, honestly, it might’ve.

After breakfast, I barely had ti to breathe before I was herded straight into the bathroom—no negotiations. They even handed a tir, like I couldn’t be trusted alone with hot water. The nerve. But I have to admit, the shower felt amazing. Once I was done—on the dot, of course—I barely had a mont to towel off before I was whisked away into the dressing room like so kind of VIP on a tight schedule.

The palace dressing room looked like a warzone of lace, silk, gemstones, and chaos. Dresses were hung on golden racks like sleeping royalty, and my wedding gown stood on its own pedestal—blindingly beautiful and intimidating. It shimred with threads that mimicked starlight and silver moonbeams, each delicate layer glowing like the night sky.

"You’re glowing already," Cassandra said, squinting at my face. "Which is great—but also terrifying, because if your wolf starts glowing now, we’ll all be blind before makeup is done."

"Sorry," I laughed as Jasmine chuckled inside my head. "I’m just excited," she purred. "Our mate is hot. And we love him. Obviously."

I rolled my eyes. "Control your sparkle, Jasmine."

Jasmine just howled with laughter.

Getting ready was no easy feat. My hair took an hour, curled and pinned with tiny silver vines and flowers. My makeup team fretted endlessly, whispering prayers to the goddess every ti I blinked too fast.

Cassandra, in full glitter boss mode, was directing everyone like a general at war. "Her lips must be kissed by roses. Her eyes? Smoky but soft. And soone—please, for the love of everything sacred—bring more highlighter. I want her to beam like the second freaking sun!":

Easter—bless her sweet soul—had sohow coaxed both Rose and the newborn into a rare mont of soft, sleepy silence. But every few minutes, she’d wince and shift her weight like she was trying to quietly shake off an itch no one else could see.

I didn’t have to guess. I knew exactly what was happening.

She was going into a mild heat.

And Jacob—of all people—was nearby. I could feel him lingering just beyond the door, probably pacing like a nervous wreck, too respectful to walk in, too stubborn to stay away. Because of her.

"Cass," I whispered, leaning forward as a makeup brush danced across my cheeks. "You need to get Easter out of here. Right now."

Cassandra paused mid-swipe, glanced between and Easter, and let out a quiet curse under her breath.

"Oh, hell no," she muttered. "Jacob’s practically here. If she catches even a whiff of him, we’re going to need new furniture. And maybe new windows."

"I’m fine," Easter insisted, though her cheeks were betraying her—blushing a soft pink, like dawn creeping up on a storm.

"You’re sweating," I said, gently. "And not the casual kind."

"I always sweat when I’m nervous—"

"Easter," I said again, softer this ti. "You know I love you. You’re sweet and adorable and all things precious. But for the sake of the palace walls, and everyone’s dignity, please go. I’ll see you at the ceremony, okay?"

She groaned like a teenager being told to leave a party early, then reluctantly handed the baby off to Cassandra and made for the door, cheeks now full-on rose-petal pink. Cass trailed behind her like a bouncer escorting out a harmless drunk.

"Eyes on the floor!" Cassandra barked playfully. "And no looking at tall, ancient werewolf spirits nad Jacob!"

The door clicked shut behind them—

—and clicked open just as fast.

And there he was.

Jacob.

The Wolf Spirit. My big brother. My constant, unshakable protector.

Ancient, powerful, and—at least in this mont—very unaware of the chaos he almost caused just by existing.

He looked devastatingly calm in his ceremonial robes—white and silver and trimd in midnight thread. His black hair was tied at the nape, and his eyes—those warm, ageless brown eyes—t mine with sothing far softer than power.

"You look..." he began, but paused, eyes shining. "You look like the stars bowed down and wove you from their own light."

I stood, heart hamring, then rushed into his arms.

He held tightly, like I might disappear.

"You’re really walking down the aisle," I whispered.

"I wouldn’t miss it for the world," he replied, voice thick, "I just wish Evan Cross could have been here to see his little girl blossom."

"He was here," I said softly, pulling back just enough to look at him. "Well—both my mortal parents. Our mother... she gave a gift last night. I saw them. I held them."

He blinked, not surprised. Of course he wasn’t.

"You already knew," I accused, narrowing my eyes.

A little smile tugged at his lips. "I always know."

"You’re so annoying."

"And you’re radiant." His voice softened. "I’m proud of you, Natalie. Everything you’ve endured, everything you’ve beco. You’re not just my sister. You’re the heart of our kind."

I swiped a tear. "You made cry, damn it."

"I’m not sorry."

Before I could say more, the door burst open and the rest of my brothers piled in.

Tiger—wild as ever, tossed a bouquet made of lilies and Jasmine. "For the fiercest bride the world’s ever seen."

Eagle kissed the top of my head and ruffled my hair despite the shrieking of a stylist nearby. "You look powerful. And terrifying."

Fox gave a wink and Bubble hugged so tight I nearly dropped the bouquet.

"Are you all trying to ruin my mascara?!" I wailed.

"Yes," they said in unison.

They made laugh. Made sob. And then, they left to hunt down my soon-to-be husband.

Two hours later, the golden doors of the throne room opened.

Jacob stood beside , tall and proud, arm linked with mine.

The entire kingdom waited just beyond the grand archway.

Rows upon rows of werewolves, vampires, witches, fae, humans—noble and humble, strangers and friends, all turned toward us.

They had all turned to face us.

And then, one by one, they bowed.

Every last one of them.

But I didn’t see any of it.

All I saw... was him.

Zane.

He stood at the far end of the aisle, a striking silhouette draped in royal black trimd with silver. The mark of the Lycan line glead boldly on his chest, catching the light like a promise. His blonde hair was styled to perfection, not a strand out of place, and his eyes—gods, those eyes—locked onto mine with a fire that was wild and devastatingly tender.

He looked like he could tear down empires... and still hold gently through the storm.

And sohow—out of every soul in the world—he was mine. All mine.

I forgot to breathe.

Jacob leaned closer, whispering out of the corner of his mouth. "Breathe, princess. You’ve fought bloodier wars than marriage."

"True," I murmured back, my voice tight, "but none of my enemies ever looked that dangerous in a suit."

He let out a quiet laugh, then offered his arm.

We began walking together, step by step down the aisle. But each footfall unlocked a mory.

Cold nights in Darius’s dungeon. Rain-slick streets while scavenging for food. Alex’s small hand gripping mine. The sting of rejection and fear of tomorrow. Zane’s first kiss, rough and soft all at once. Jasmine rising from the shadows, eyes glowing with awakening. The first ti I felt power. The first ti I understood love.

And now, this.

This mont.

At the altar, Zane stepped forward to et . His breath caught as he reached for my hands—hands that had survived so much—and his fingers trembled ever so slightly.

"You look..." he began, voice hoarse, "like the beginning of forever."

I smiled, chest tight. "And you," I whispered, "look like ho."

The elder officiating the wedding stepped forward in full ceremonial garb, his robe a river of gold threaded with ancient runes. His voice bood gently, carrying like a breeze through the sacred space.

"Today, we witness not just the union of two hearts, but the fusion of two realms. The Celestial realm and the mortal realm—joined by fate, forged by the moon goddess."

We said our vows with voices that cracked from the weight of feeling. I told him about love born in darkness and lit by stars. About loyalty that ran deeper than blood and lifetis. About soft kisses and hard choices. About never leaving, no matter what.

He swore to protect , to honor the girl who once had nothing—who now held the heart of a kingdom and the soul of a Prince.

And then—

"I now pronounce you husband and wife."

Zane didn’t wait for applause.

He kissed like a man who’d just found the missing half of his existence. Like the stars above would disappear if he let go.

The crowd erupted.

Howls, claps, cheers. A roar of joy that echoed through the land.

The king stood slowly, eyes glassy with unshed tears. "May the gods bless this union," he declared, voice thick with emotion.

And then, just when I thought this day couldn’t get any better—

The world stilled.

A ripple of power shivered through the air. A pulse of light descended like a breath from the heavens.

And she appeared.

The Moon Goddess.

My mother.

Radiant. Otherworldly. Her form glowed with galaxies, as if the constellations had poured themselves into her skin. Her presence was gravity and grace—pulling every living soul to stillness.

Ti seed to bow alongside us.

Even Zane and I fell to our knees.

The Goddess raised her hands, voice both thunderous and soft as moonlight. "Blessed are you, my daughter. And blessed is this love—tempered in pain, forged in fire, and reborn in the light."

She touched our foreheads, and in that touch... everything changed.

It felt like the stars themselves surged through our veins. A current of divine warmth, ancient and eternal, filled every corner of us. It was like being kissed by forever.

The room lit up in a shimr of cosmic light.

Jasmine howled—an ancient sound, primal and pure.

And my heart... it soared.

Because in that mont, I knew sothing deep and true:

This wasn’t the end of my story.

It was the beginning of sothing far greater.

Sothing legendary.