The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter-Chapter 103: Just For Tonight

Sebastian~

I must have misheard.

That had to be it.

But my ears—sharp, inhumanly sharp—had never failed me before. Not once in my centuries of existence.

And yet, I couldn’t believe what I had just heard.

That voice.

I knew that voice.

For years, I had heard it in my dreams. Soft, haunting, pleading—always calling my name, always asking me to find her.

And now, that very same voice had just slipped from Brielle’s lips.

My mate.

The same mate who had nearly killed me two hours ago.

How could this be?

My mind raced, trying to make sense of it, but the only thing I could focus on was her voice.

I swallowed hard, my throat tightening as I stared at her. She looked groggy, her dark lashes fluttering slightly, her warm brown eyes unfocused.

I needed to hear it again.

"Say it again," I said, my voice only a whisper.

Brielle blinked sluggishly at me. "Say what?"

"My name," I said, inching closer. My entire body was tense, every muscle wound tight as if bracing for a blow. "Say my name again, Brielle."

She exhaled softly, rubbing her temple as if I was being the most annoying thing on the planet—which, to be fair, I often was.

"What are you talking about?" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. "Besides, I don’t know any ’Brielle.’"

I froze.

Not because of what she had said—but because of how she had said it.

That voice.

It was the same. The same voice that had whispered through my dreams, calling me, searching for me.

I wasn’t even listening to the meaning of her words anymore.

All I could hear was her voice.

I had found her.

I had finally found her.

A sharp, almost painful relief surged through me, so overwhelming that I moved before I could think.

I pulled her into my arms, gripping her tightly, my fingers curling into her back as if I could somehow anchor her to me, make sure she wouldn’t disappear.

Her body stiffened against mine.

For a moment, I thought she would shove me away, stab me, or maybe even bite me—something dramatic. But then, slowly... she relaxed.

And damn, did it feel right.

I could feel it—this strange, electric pull between us, like our very existence was trying to fit back together after being separated for too long.

My dead heart... it did something impossible.

It leaped.

A deep, bone-melting warmth spread through me, something I had never felt before. My kind—vampires—weren’t supposed to experience this. Not after death.

But I did.

With her.

I tightened my arms around her, inhaling deeply, committing everything to memory. "I’ve been looking for you," I whispered, my voice raw with something I couldn’t name. "For so long. And I didn’t even know it was you."

Then, as if I had snapped her out of some trance—

She shoved me.

Hard.

I barely budged, but the moment was shattered.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she snapped, glaring at me as she pushed herself up on the bed.

I grinned despite myself. "A lot of things, actually. Where do you want me to start?"

She ignored my sarcasm, her expression shifting. She looked... confused. Almost scared.

Then, Brielle’s expression suddenly hardened as she looked at me, like puzzle pieces were clicking into place in her mind. "What happened?"

I hesitated, unsure how much to tell her.

Do I tell her about the demon? About Kalmia and whatever twisted game she was playing? Do I tell her that she collapsed in my arms, that Zane nearly lost his mind, that Fox casually made a dead body vanish like it was a misplaced sock?

Or do I just keep it simple?

"...You fainted."

Brielle scoffed. "I don’t faint." freēwēbnovel.com

I raised a brow. "Then what would you call it?"

She opened her mouth, then paused.

Then scowled.

I grinned. "That’s what I thought."

Brielle muttered something under her breath that I was sure wasn’t very nice.

Then, her gaze darted around the room, then back to me. "Where’s Griffin?"

I hesitated.

She noticed.

Her face paled.

"Sebastian." Her voice was sharp now, demanding. "Where is Griffin?"

I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. "He’s gone."

She didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

Then, without warning—

She bolted.

"Brielle—!"

I barely had time to react before she shoved past me, her bare feet barely making a sound as she sprinted out of the bedroom.

Damn it.

I chased after her, my body moving in a blur.

By the time I reached the living room, she was already there, her wild eyes scanning the space.

Looking for him.

For Griffin.

But he wasn’t here.

I saw it—the moment realization dawned on her.

Her shoulders slumped, her hands slowly rising to clutch her head.

She looked... scared.

And that? That did something awful to my chest.

I took a cautious step forward. "Brielle."

She flinched.

I ignored the sting of that and tried again, softer this time. "His body was taken. It’s... complicated."

Her breath hitched, and she shook her head rapidly, as if trying to clear it. "No. No."

This was going to hurt.

"He’s gone," I said gently. "Some demon... Kalmia killed him."

Her entire body went rigid.

Then, suddenly—

She spun toward me, her eyes burning with something dangerous.

"You met Kalmia?" she hissed, her hands curling into fists. "Where. Is. She?"

"She’s gone. For now," I said carefully, watching the way her breathing grew heavier, more erratic.

But then her eyes flicked past me.

To the door.

Shit.

I knew that look.

She was going to make a break for it.

"Brielle, don’t—"

But I was already too late.

She lunged.

And I did the only thing I could.

I caught her.

She gasped as I wrapped my arms around her from behind, pinning her against me before she could make an escape.

"Let me go, Sebastian!" she snarled, struggling hard. "I swear to the gods, if you don’t let me go right now—"

"No," I said simply.

She froze.

Her breath was ragged, her body vibrating with fury, but she didn’t fight me this time.

I held her firmly, my chin resting lightly against the top of her head. "I know you’re confused," I murmured. "I know you’re scared and panicking right now. But running from me wouldn’t solve the problem."

Her fists clenched.

I could feel the heat radiating off of her—rage, grief, panic the need for escape.

But I wasn’t going to let her run away from me. Never.

She inhaled shakily. "She killed him."

"I know."

Her body trembled, and I felt my own resolve tighten.

"You do not understand," Brielle whispered, her voice hollow, distant. "This isn’t the end."

Her body trembled against me, and for a moment, she seemed utterly lost in thought, speaking not to me, but to herself.

"This is just the beginning..." she murmured. Her breathing turned shallow, her fingers twitching at her sides. "What happened today was nothing. A taste. A warning. I need to leave this city before she—before she makes me do something I’ll regret."

Her voice cracked on that last word, and I felt something tighten in my chest.

Then, suddenly—she moved.

Like a shadow slipping through cracks, Brielle twisted out of my grasp and made a break for the door again.

Shit. This woman.

I caught her again.

One second she was bolting, the next I had her pinned against my chest again, my arms wrapped tightly around her waist.

She struggled. Harder this time. But I wasn’t letting go.

"Sebastian. Let me go!" she snarled, her voice raw and desperate. "I need to get away from here!"

I tightened my grip. "Not happening."

She turned in my arms, fire blazing in her eyes, but her strength was wavering. She was too weak to fight me properly, her body exhausted, barely keeping up with the rage fueling it.

"Sebastian," she hissed. "I mean it. Get. Away. From. Me."

I scoffed. "Yeah, not gonna happen, sweetheart."

"Stop calling me that!" she snapped, but even then, I noticed how she wavered, how she was shaking, how something deeper than exhaustion clung to her—fear.

She tried to push me again, but I had had enough.

Before she could even blink, I lifted her into my arms.

Bridal style.

She gasped, her fingers gripping the front of my shirt as if her body betrayed her instincts. "What the hell are you—"

"Carrying you," I interrupted, moving swiftly toward the elevator. "Because you clearly have no idea what’s good for you."

"Sebastian, put me down!" she growled, thrashing weakly.

I smirked. "Nope."

She squirmed, but I felt the moment she gave up fighting—when her muscles stopped resisting, when the mate bond between us made her crave my warmth even though she didn’t want to. She was torn between wanting to push me away and just letting herself collapse.

Her head rested against my chest for a moment, and my damn dead heart clenched so hard I thought it might beat.

I stepped out into the night, the city lights flickering around us, and carried her straight to my car.

She didn’t fight me when I placed her in the passenger seat, didn’t fight when I buckled her in.

She just... stared.

As if she didn’t recognize herself.

As if she couldn’t believe she was letting me do this.

I didn’t say a word as I drove through the city, navigating the streets until we reached my home.

And for the first time in years... I felt like I was bringing someone back to where they belonged.

***********

Brielle stood in my living room, arms crossed, jaw clenched.

She was still trying to push me away.

"I can’t stay here, Sebastian," she said, voice firm but unconvincing. "It’s not safe for you. I’m not safe for you."

I leaned against the kitchen counter, watching her.

"Cool. Noted. You’re still staying."

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "You’re so stubborn."

"And you’re exhausted," I countered. "So maybe, just this once, stop fighting me."

She glared at me but didn’t argue.

Progress.

I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck. "Look, you don’t have to tell me anything. Not about Kalmia, not about whatever’s chasing you. Just... let me take care of you for one night."

Brielle scoffed. "Take care of me? You? A vampire? Vampires I know would rather drink bleach than deal with someone else’s problems."

I smirked. "I’m still considering the bleach option, but here we are."

She rolled her eyes but didn’t move when I stepped closer.

"Besides," I added, lowering my voice, "you’re my mate. That changes everything."

Her breath hitched.

She turned away sharply, her fingers gripping the hem of her shirt like she needed something to ground her.

I saw it, though.

The way she kept stealing glances at me. The way her heartbeat spiked when I got close. The way she wanted to push me away but couldn’t.

She was fighting this.

Fighting us.

And gods help me, I was too whipped to let her.

I walked past her and into the kitchen, opening the fridge.

Brielle blinked, watching me warily. "What are you doing?"

"Making you dinner."

She blinked again. "You can cook?"

I smirked. "Shockingly, yes."

Her brow furrowed as I pulled out ingredients.

"Why the hell do you have normal food in your fridge?"

"My best bud, Zane visits sometimes. He’s a werewolf like you. Werewolves eat. I prefer my best friend alive, so I keep food around for him."

She stared at me like I had just confessed to being a unicorn. "That’s... weirdly thoughtful of you."

I snorted. "Don’t get used to it."

I turned on the stove, moving around the kitchen with ease, feeling Brielle’s gaze on me the entire time.

She sat at the table, arms crossed, expression was full of disbelief.

Then, finally, I placed a plate of food in front of her.

She hesitated.

I raised a brow. "If you think I poisoned it, I’ll eat some first. Even though it would be like eating trash. I can do it for you."

Brielle scowled. "That’s not—" She sighed and picked up her fork. "Fine."

She took a bite.

Then another.

Her expression didn’t change, but I caught the slight widening of her eyes, the way her shoulders relaxed just a little.

I leaned on the counter, smirking. "Good, huh?"

She stabbed her fork into the food. "It’s edible."

I chuckled. "You like it."

"I tolerate it."

"That’s high praise coming from you."

She muttered something under her breath, but I caught the way her lips twitched.

When she finished, she pushed the plate away and stood.

I watched her closely, waiting for the moment she’d try to run.

She hesitated.

Then, in a voice softer than I’d ever heard from her, she said, "I need to clean up. I feel sticky."

I gave a short nod. "Bathroom’s down the hall. I’ll get you a towel and clean clothes."

Without another word, she disappeared inside, and the moment the door clicked shut, I let out a breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding.

Her scent lingered in the air, weaving through the empty spaces of my home. For years, the only thing I’d breathed in was solitude—cold, suffocating, and laced with the ghost of something long dead.

But now?

Now, it smelled like her.

And I wanted to drown in it.

But I wasn’t stupid.

Brielle was still planning to run away.

So I waited.

I sat outside the door, listening. The sound of water running, the occasional shuffle of movement. I pictured her in there, washing away whatever haunted her, scrubbing off the weight of whatever had brought her to my doorstep.

And when she was done, I was waiting.

She stepped out of the bathroom, hair damp, skin flushed from the heat. My shirt hung off her frame, swallowing her whole. She looked smaller like this. More fragile.

"Come on," I said, keeping my voice even.

She didn’t argue when I led her down the hall to a room I barely used—the one I kept for Zane whenever he was around. Unlike the rest of the house, this room was untouched by my own existence. No shadows of the past clung to the walls. It was warm, clean, a place that didn’t feel like it belonged to me.

I pushed the door open. "Sleep here."

She hesitated again, glancing at me like she wanted to say something. But in the end, she just stepped inside, curling into the bed as if it had always belonged to her.

I stayed outside, listening.

Waiting.

And when her breathing finally evened out, I moved.

Silent as the night itself, I slipped into the room, standing over her sleeping form.

She looked peaceful. Like she wasn’t carrying the weight of something dark and terrible. Like, just for a moment, the storm had passed.

I should have left.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I did something I never thought I would.

I laid down beside her.

Not close enough to wake her. Just close enough to feel her warmth. Close enough to exist in the same space, in the quiet, in the stillness of a moment neither of us had asked for but somehow needed.

I didn’t ask her about Kalmia. I didn’t ask why she called my name in my dreams.

I just let myself be in her orbit.

Because something told me—

She was doing the same.

Just for tonight.