The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter Chapter 375: The Rejection Lesson

Vincent/Vaelthor~

Nancy’s reflection in the mirror sharpened as if the air itself grew colder. Her once-soft features hardened, and her eyes narrowed with a kind of intensity that made it feel like she could reach through the glass and shake into understanding. The flickering light overhead created shadows along her cheekbones, making her look more like a warning than an ally. If I could even call her that.

"Listen carefully, Vincent," she said, her voice low and steady—almost too calm. That kind of calm that carried weight... danger. The words slithered into the air, wrapping around like cold fingers. "If you’re truly set on breaking this bond with Katrina, it isn’t complicated. It’s cruelly simple."

She leaned closer, close enough that it felt like the mirror was the only thing keeping her from stepping into the room with . "You have to go to her. Look her in the eyes. Not with hesitation, not with doubt—like you an it. Then speak her full na and say the words: ’I, Vincent...’"—she paused, letting the silence stretch—"’reject you, Katrina Anderson-Moor, as my mate.’ That’s all it takes."

Her voice dropped even lower, nearly a whisper now. "But don’t fool yourself. Those words cut deep. They don’t just end a bond—they slice it clean through, like a blade sliding through silk. Once spoken, there’s no turning back."

A shiver crawled up my spine. The simplicity of it made it even more confusing.

I stared at her, my mouth falling open in disbelief. My heart pounded erratically, a mix of relief and horror flooding through . "That’s it?" I stamred, my voice cracking with shock. "Just... words? No rituals, no ancient spells, no blood sacrifices? It can’t be that easy to break sothing so profound!"

She let out a low, dark chuckle that rolled through the room like smoke, the sound both mocking and haunting. Her head tilted slightly, sending her wild curls bouncing and twisting in the dim light—like living shadows dancing at the edge of a storm. Her smile wasn’t warm; it was the kind that ca just before a blade slides between ribs.

"Oh, my dear shadow prince," she purred, her voice laced with equal parts amusent and warning. "The words are easy enough to speak. Simple syllables, a neat little sentence slipping off your tongue. But the consequences..." Her eyes glead with sothing sharp and knowing. "That’s where the true tornt begins. Words are cheap. Pain is not."

She stepped closer to the mirror, her presence pressing against like a chill crawling down my spine. "When a mate bond is torn apart, it’s not just so dramatic mont, Vincent. It’s carnage. It’s a storm ripping through your veins—fire and ice all at once—burning everything it touches. It’s an emptiness that digs into your soul, clawing out pieces you didn’t even know existed. You’ll feel her essence being ripped from yours, like soone tearing out a vital organ. And those scars?" She tapped her chest, right where her heart beat. "They don’t fade. Not with ti. Not with anything."

Her voice softened then, but it was no comfort. It was the quiet before the scream. "Both of you will suffer. Screams that shake the air. Tears that don’t stop. And if the bond runs deep enough... you may flirt with madness before the end. So tell , Vincent," she whispered, her eyes locking on mine like a predator cornering prey. "Are you truly ready to endure that hell? Are you ready to..."

I cut her off mid-sentence. The words spilled out before I could rein them in, fierce and sharp, fueled by the fire burning low and steady in my chest. Shadows in the bathroom stirred restlessly, coiling around my boots like hungry serpents answering an unspoken call.

"Nancy, stop." My tone was rough, firm—leaving no room for argunt. "Our mission—Winter’s and mine—it’s bigger than this. Bigger than any bond or passing ache." I took a step closer to the mirror, eting her eyes head-on, my reflection flickering in the dim light like sothing caught between two worlds. "We’ve waited years for this... years to honor our parents’ mory—"

I froze, realizing too late how much I’d let slip. The air hung heavy between us for a heartbeat, the weight of unspoken history pressing down like a storm. But backing down wasn’t an option. Not now. Not ever.

I straightened, letting the steel in my voice return. "I won’t let so cosmic twist derail everything. Pain?" I let out a short, humorless laugh. "Pain and I are old friends. I’ve lived with it, breathed it, bled through it. This?" I gestured to the invisible thread of the bond. "This is nothing compared to what we’ve survived."

The shadows seed to pulse at my feet, as if they agreed.

She paused, her eyes widening slightly before she shook her head slowly, a pitying smile tugging at her lips. "You might be crazy enough to go through with it, Vincent—driven by that burning ambition of yours. But Winter? I doubt you’ll convince her to whisper those sa simple words to her mate. She’s not as hardened as you; love has a way of softening even the darkest hearts."

I clenched my fists, shadows flickering across my skin as I t her gaze defiantly. "You’re wrong. I know my sister better than anyone. I’ll talk sense into her head. When it cos down to it, she’ll choose —our family—over so mate bond forced upon her. Blood over fate, every ti."

Nancy threw her head back and laughed again, a deep, resonant cackle that echoed off the tiled walls, filling the small space with mocking mirth. "Oh, we’ll see about that, won’t we? Good luck, shadow prince. You’ll need it." Her image shimred, distorting like ripples in water, and then she vanished, her laughter fading into silence, leaving alone with the hum of the palace’s distant echoes.

I exhaled sharply, my breath fogging the mirror for a mont before I wiped it away. Quietly, I eased the bathroom door open, slipping out like a shadow lting into the night. The bedroom was still shrouded in darkness, the heavy curtains blocking out the moonlight. Katrina lay curled on the bed, her reddish-blonde hair splayed across the pillow like threads of sunset, her breathing soft and even. Winter and Nicholas occupied the adjacent beds, their forms still in slumber. I padded silently across the plush carpet, the cool air brushing against my skin, and slid back under the covers beside Katrina. She stirred slightly, murmuring sothing incoherent, but didn’t wake. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, my mind a whirlwind of plans and doubts, until exhaustion finally claid .

To be continued...