The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter-Chapter 119: Salt, Donut, and Shadows

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Chapter 119: Salt, Donut, and Shadows

Jacob~

We were still in Zane’s living room, seated across from each other, but the tension in the air could have filled the entire mansion. Natalie sat with her legs tucked under her, elbows on her knees, her fingers clenched into her thick leather Jacket. The room was quiet. I stared into the fire, watching the embers burn, trying to find the right words to say.

She was lost in thought. I could almost feel her mind racing, sharp and intense.

"Natalie, this isn’t just about the coup," I finally said, voice low, my eyes still trained on the flames.

Natalie straightened. "What do you mean?"

I turned to her, watching the way the firelight caught the edge of her hair—so soft and untamed, like she was born of the wild and the stars all at once.

"This isn’t just about dethroning a king. This..." I exhaled. "This is about something ancient. A play older than politics, older than power grabs and thrones. It’s Something darker."

Natalie’s lips parted slightly. Her gaze didn’t waver, but her fingers tightened. "This god of darkness is going to be a massive problem."

I nodded. "Exactly. He’s not just stirring chaos. He’s manipulating events. Aligning himself with Darius means there’s a deeper reason—one I haven’t figured out yet. But I will."

She was silent for a beat. Then, "How long do we have?"

I leaned back on the couch and crossed one ankle over my knee. "I can’t say. I need time. I have to dig. There are... archives. Memories. Threads I need to follow."

Natalie tilted her head. "But you’re Mist, the Wolf Spirit. Shouldn’t you already know?"

I gave her a tired smile. "Even legends need to do their homework sometimes."

That earned me a scoff. "You’re just saying that because you like the sound of your own voice when you talk about ancient secrets."

"Maybe," I smirked. "Or maybe I’m buying time until I figure out how to stop an otherworldly force from ripping the realms apart."

She rolled her eyes but the fire in them softened. "So, what now?"

"For now?" I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "You need to have a bit of patience. I know that’s not your strong suit, feisty one, but everything will be fine. I promise you that."

She eyed me for a long moment, searching for something in my expression—doubt, maybe. Fear. But when she found none, she nodded.

"Alright. I’ll try. No promises though."

I chuckled. "You? Making promises? That would be the end of the world right there."

Before she could fire back a sarcastic remark, there was a thudding sound—soft, hurried feet—and suddenly Rose burst into the room like a whirlwind of giggles and sunshine, holding a salt shaker above her head like it was a trophy.

"Tiger’s gonna get me!" she squealed.

I blinked. "Wait, what?"

Then, right behind her, the most unexpected sight followed.

Tiger—my silent, deadly, nature-merged brother—ran into the room wearing a frilly pink apron that barely fit around his massive chest, a frying spoon in one hand, barefoot, looking mildly winded.

"Natalie," I whispered, jaw slack, "am I hallucinating or is Tiger... chasing a toddler in an apron?"

Natalie let out a stunned noise—somewhere between a snort and a gasp—and then she burst into uncontrollable laughter. Her head fell back against the couch, and she laughed so hard, she clutched her sides.

"Oh my Moon..." she gasped, pointing at him. "Tiger! What the hell are you wearing?!"

Tiger, as if only now realizing he had an audience, froze mid-stride. His eyes widened when they landed on us, and he abruptly straightened his posture, like someone caught naked in the middle of a battlefield.

"...Jacob?" he said, blinking. "Natalie? When did you get back?"

"A few minutes ago," I said, still stunned. "The whole time we were here, you’ve been in the kitchen... in an apron?"

Tiger narrowed his eyes, ignoring my tone. "You returned earlier than expected."

"Complication arose," I answered simply, rubbing the back of my neck.

He raised one golden brow like he wanted more details, but Rose interrupted the moment with a dramatic squeal and a fresh burst of laughter as she darted behind the coffee table.

"You can’t catch me, Uncle Tiger! I have the salt of victory!"

Tiger’s lips twitched, the corner of his mouth curling upward in a rare, genuine smile. "Oh, you clever fox," he said, crouching slightly, spoon still in hand. "I will catch you and gobble you up like a bunny stew."

Natalie gasped again—this time in mock horror. "He’s doing voices, Jacob. Tiger is actually roleplaying."

"Who is this man?" I whispered. "What did Easter do to him?"

I was about to ask exactly that—where Easter was—when a blur of motion caught my eye.

From the hallway, Easter came skidding into view, her wild brown curls bouncing, her green eyes glowing with mirth, chasing a very fat, very disgruntled cat that meowed in protest with every step.

"Donut, give me back Rose’s sock!" Easter cried, nearly tripping over a toy as she laughed.

I gawked.

What’s happening?

Natalie looked at me, eyes wide, then back at Easter. "She looks... different."

"She was pouting this morning," I murmured. "She could barely look me in the eye."

Now, she was radiant—her cheeks flushed pink, her freckles standing out like stardust across her nose, and her laughter... It wasn’t just a sound. It was a song. Bright and light and free.

The cat darted past us, its prize dangling from its mouth—a wool sock, limp and chewed. Easter stumbled to a stop in the middle of the living room, chest heaving as she caught her breath.

Then her eyes locked on mine.

And she froze.

Her breath hitched, and the blush that rushed up her cheeks could’ve rivaled the color of red roses. She fumbled with the hem of her oversized sweater, twisting it between her fingers like a child caught doing something mischievous.

"H-hi, Jacob," she said, her voice sounding small, thick with nervous warmth. She dared a glance at me and immediately looked down again, like the intensity of my gaze was too much to bear.

I blinked, momentarily thrown off by her sudden change but I managed a nod, keeping my voice as casual as I could muster. "Hey, Easter."

She turned to Natalie, who was practically vibrating with silent laughter beside me. "Hi, Natalie," she added, her tone a bit brighter but still shy.

"Hi, sweetheart," Natalie replied sweetly.

Easter shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I didn’t expect you both back so early. Everything okay?"

I scratched the back of my neck, giving a half-hearted shrug. "Let’s just say... things didn’t exactly go according to plan. Nothing you need to worry about."

"Mm-hm," Natalie said, drawing out the sound in that sing-song tone that always meant she was up to something.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "What?"

But she didn’t look at me. Instead, she turned to Easter with a wicked glint in her eyes. "You look different... happy," she said slyly. "What’s got you glowing like you’ve just kissed a prince?"

Easter’s eyes went wide, and her blush deepened. "I-I’m not glowing," she stammered. "I just—Tiger showed me a lot of pretty animals today. He took me to the woods, and... and I got to pet a baby deer. And some foxes came too! And then he let me keep the cat."

She looked down with a fond smile as if remembering the exact moment. "I named him Donut. He’s just so cute..."

As if on cue, Donut—fat, fluffy, and undeniably smug—strode over like a feline emperor answering his royal summons. He rubbed himself against Easter’s leg, meowing softly in approval.

"Aww, you little show-off," she murmured, bending down to scoop him up into her arms. She hugged him tightly, kissing the top of his head. Donut purred like a motorboat.

My jaw clenched.

Tiger, meanwhile, had finally caught Rose and hoisted her up effortlessly onto his hip. She giggled and patted his cheek, proud of her "capture."

Easter turned her bright, thankful gaze to him. "Thank you again, Tiger. Donut is the best gift I’ve ever received."

Tiger merely inclined his head, his expression relaxed, though I didn’t miss the rare softness in his gaze.

Natalie turned to me with a smirk so sharp I could’ve cut myself on it. "See what I mean? Tiger is a silent charmer."

Her voice echoed through our mind link, smooth and mocking.

I gave her the side-eye, grinding my molars. "Do you want to die today?"

"Aw, someone’s jealous," she teased.

I wasn’t. Not really.

Except I was a bit angry. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

No. I was absolutely livid.

But why?

Why did it piss me off that Tiger—my stone-faced, tree-whispering brother—gave her a cat? Why did it feel like someone shoved hot coals in my chest every time she looked at him like that?

It didn’t make sense. Easter was a sweet girl, sure, but she was just some human I helped. A fragile, abused human girl with a shy smile and too many scars hidden beneath her sleeves. That’s all. That’s all she was supposed to be.

So why the hell did seeing her light up like a sunrise for Tiger make me want to punch a tree in half?

"Jacob?"

I blinked. Easter was looking at me now, concern pooling in those emerald green eyes. She clutched Donut tighter against her chest. "Is something wrong?"

Behind me, Natalie was silently wheezing with laughter, her shoulders shaking as she tried to stifle it.

I wanted to strangle her.

But I just forced a tight smile. "No," I said, too quickly. "Everything’s fine."

Easter didn’t look convinced. Her brows furrowed a little as she studied my face, her fingers twitching in the fur of the cat like she was trying to anchor herself.

I opened my mouth, intending to smooth things over, maybe even apologize for being weird—

But Natalie’s laughter cut off abruptly.

Her body stilled, spine snapping straight as if an invisible string had yanked her upright. Her smile vanished. Her pupils dilated.

I froze. "Natalie?"

Her head whipped toward me, her eyes wide and filled with something I rarely saw in her this days—fear.

"Jacob," she whispered, her voice laced with a tremor. "I just had a vision."

My blood ran cold.

"What did you see?" I demanded, stepping closer.

She swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the couch like the earth beneath her had started to tilt.

"Sebastian," she breathed. "He’s in danger."

The room plunged into silence.

Even Rose, who had been tugging on Tiger’s ear a second ago, stilled.