The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter Chapter 52: The Burning Mystery

Zane~

The mont my plane touched down in Paris, the city greeted with its usual symphony—honking cars, hurried footsteps, and the distant hum of conversations in French. The neon lights of Charles de Gaulle Airport glowed against the night sky as I stepped out of the plane, my black trench coat billowing slightly in the evening breeze. It was exactly 9 p.m.

I had a plan: land, get to my private villa, contact Sebastian’s network, and start tracking Jacob and Natalie’s whereabouts. But things unfolded far more smoothly than I had anticipated.

Just as I reached the airport’s entrance, a sharp-eyed man in a crisp gray suit approached . He had the air of soone who had seen too much and spoken too little.

"Monsieur Lucky?" His French accent was thick but refined.

I gave him a slow nod, my gaze sharp. "Oui. Vous êtes l’agent de Sebastian?" (Yes. You’re Sebastian’s agent?)

"Oui, monsieur. J’ai tout ce que vous cherchez." (Yes, sir. I have everything you’re looking for.)

He reached into his leather satchel, pulled out a sleek tablet and a neatly organized file, and handed them to . "Their location, surveillance footage, and all relevant docunts. My team has been tracking them since their arrival."

Impressive.

I flipped open the file and skimd through it. The na "Frankie Desmarais" stood out—the driver who had picked up Jacob and Natalie. The docunt contained everything: his license plate, personal identification, and even the GPS destination he had driven them to.

I tapped the tablet, bringing up security footage of the airport. There they were—Jacob and Natalie, walking side by side. Each cara captured their movent in crisp detail, it showed when they left the airport and everything in between, leading straight to Jacob’s residence. It was almost too easy to track them.

Jacob wanted to find him. But why?

The agent tilted his head. "Bonne chance, monsieur." (Good luck, sir.)

I slipped the file under my arm and nodded. "rci." (Thank you.)

Once he left, I pulled out my phone and called Sebastian.

The line barely rang twice before his voice ca through, filled with smug amusent. "You’re welco."

I smirked. "You already knew I was calling to thank you?"

"Please," he scoffed. "I could practically hear your gratitude from across the ocean. So, did my boys do a good job?"

"Too good. Jacob made himself way too easy to find. Almost like he wanted to."

Sebastian went silent for a beat. Then, "Well, this is getting unsettling."

I leaned against a pillar, eyes narrowing at the footage looping on the tablet. "Yeah. Makes wonder what his ga is."

"You planning to head to your villa first? Or are you diving headfirst into whatever weird sche Jacob’s setting up?"

I exhaled sharply. "I can’t wait until morning. I need to see Natalie tonight."

"Zane, it’s almost midnight in Paris," he deadpanned. "You do realize that showing up at soone’s house at this hour makes you either a psychopath or a lovesick fool?"

I ignored the latter comnt. "I don’t care. If Jacob is setting a trap, I need to know why. And if he isn’t, then I need to see her."

Sebastian sighed dramatically. "You know, for soone who claims he doesn’t care about love anymore, you sure are willing to move mountains for this girl."

"She ans a lot to Alex," I deflected smoothly.

"Right," Sebastian drawled. "And you expect to believe that’s the only reason?"

I rubbed my temple. "Are you done?"

"Fine, fine," he relented. "Just don’t fall into any stupid traps, Your Highness."

"I never do."

"I highly disagree, but okay."

"Say hi to my boy for ."

I hung up before he could continue.

The mont I stepped out of the airport, the crisp night air of Paris wrapped around , laced with a strange heaviness I couldn’t quite place. I hailed a cab, handed the driver my phone with the GPS address, and settled into the back seat. The city lights blurred past, forming long, flickering shadows against the rain-slicked streets.

At first, everything seed normal. The quiet hum of traffic, the occasional pedestrian hurrying along the sidewalks—but beneath it all, there was sothing else. Sothing off.

Inside my head, Red stirred. His presence was a constant, a deep, steady force within . But now, he felt uneasy.

"Sothing’s wrong." His voice rumbled through my mind, low and wary.

I frowned, gripping the strap of my bag a little tighter. "What do you an?"

"I don’t know... but the closer we get, the stronger it feels. It’s like sothing’s in the air."

I exhaled slowly, trying to shake off the growing tension. But I felt it too. A strange pulse in the atmosphere, like the air itself was charged with sothing unseen. It crawled along my skin, making my breath hitch.

And then, Red hissed. A sharp, visceral reaction.

"Zane... I—" He stopped abruptly.

A cold wave of dread washed over . "Red?"

"My body... it’s burning up."

That’s when I felt it.

A searing heat exploded in my chest. A slow, creeping fire that spread outward, licking at my skin like invisible flas. My breath hitched as I pressed a trembling hand to my forehead. I was hot.

Too hot. Too fast.

What the hell is happening?

I clenched my jaw, willing myself to stay composed, but the fever hit like a tidal wave. My vision wavered, my pulse pounded against my skull.

"Zane," Red rasped, his voice raw with pain. "This isn’t normal."

"No kidding."

My fingers trembled as I reached for my phone. Sweat gathered at the base of my neck, and every breath felt heavier than the last. The cab’s interior was cool, but it did nothing to soothe the fire crawling under my skin.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to focus as I tapped Sebastian’s na. The call barely rang before his voice ca through, light and teasing as always.

"Zane, are you that helpless that you can’t function 2 minutes without ?"

I barely had the strength to roll my eyes. Pressing the phone tighter to my ear, I struggled to steady my voice.

"Sebastian."

The humor in his tone vanished in an instant.

"What’s wrong?"

I licked my lips, my throat dry. My vision swam for a second, and I blinked hard to clear it.

"Sothing’s wrong. I—I don’t know what’s happening, but I feel like I’m burning up. It ca out of nowhere."

There was a pause, then the faint rustling sound of Sebastian shifting, as if sitting up straighter.

"Burning up?" His voice sharpened with concern. "What do you an? Like a fever?"

"It feels like a fever but," I muttered, rubbing my forehead. "It’s different. It’s not sickness, Seb. This is—sothing else."

My pulse pounded against my skull. The cab’s headlights swept across the darkened Parisian streets, but I barely registered them.

Sebastian cursed under his breath. "Zane, listen to . Tell the driver to turn the car around. Now. I always knew sothing wasn’t normal about that Jacob. You might be walking into sothing you don’t understand."

Before I could respond, Red’s growl rumbled through my mind, deep and feral.

"No," he snarled. "We have to get to Natalie. At all costs."

I gritted my teeth, my fingers tightening around the phone.

"Sebastian, I can’t turn back," I said firmly. "I’m still going to Jacob’s house."

Sebastian’s frustration crackled through the call. "Zane, are you hearing yourself right now? If you don’t know what’s happening, that ans you don’t know how to fight it! Turning back is the smartest thing you can do! Werewolves don’t just magically fall sick!"

The fire surged again, hotter this ti, almost unbearable. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to push through the pain.

"I don’t have ti to argue, Sebastian."

"Zane—wait—"

I ended the call.

The phone slipped from my grip and landed on my lap. My hands were shaking. My vision blurred at the edges, the fever wrapping around like chains tightening with every second.

Red’s voice was quieter now, but resolute.

"We keep moving."

I exhaled shakily and nodded.

Whatever was waiting for at Jacob’s house—I had to face it.

*********

By the ti the cab pulled up in front of Jacob’s residence, my body was barely holding itself together.

The driver turned, concern etched into his face. "Monsieur, ça va? Vous voulez aller à l’hôpital?" (Sir, are you okay? Do you need a hospital?)

A low growl rumbled through my mind. "No!" Red snapped. "We have to see Natalie."

I barely heard him. My hands felt clumsy as I forced a few bills into the driver’s palm, my fingers numb and shaking. He hesitated but took the money, watching with uneasy eyes as I stumbled out of the cab.

Jacob’s house lood ahead, its tall iron gate standing ominous in the dim light. I reached for it—

And it swung open.

I froze. The motion was smooth, controlled. It could’ve been automated. It should have been automated.

But deep in my gut, I knew it wasn’t.

"This isn’t right," Red murmured, his voice weaker now but he still wanted to press forward.

I pushed forward, my legs unsteady beneath . Each step felt heavier, as if sothing was pressing down on , draining the strength from my limbs. My vision blurred at the edges, a dark haze creeping in.

Still, I reached the front door.

I raised my fist to knock—

And the door swung open.

A man stood in the doorway. Young, but not quite right.

I could barely make out his features through the fevered haze, but his energy was sharp—unnatural. It, sent every instinct in my body into high alert.

And then I heard Red again—

"Zane..." Red’s voice was faint, just a whisper. "He’s not human or wolf..."

A violent shudder wracked my body.

And then there was silence.

Red was gone.

The space in my mind where he had always been—empty.

I barely had ti to register the loss before my body gave out completely. The world lurched sideways as I collapsed, my knees hitting the doorstep.

The last thing I saw before darkness swallowed was a pair of bright, silver eyes staring down at .