The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter-Chapter 178: Truths and a Disbeliever

Zane~

My father looked at me with a strange, almost unsettling expression—his eyes glinting with something too unreadable to name. Hope? Worry? Anticipation? It made my stomach twist. He stood there by the fire, bathed in its orange glow, the lines of burden etched deeper across his features than I’d ever seen before.

"Think about it, Zane," he said, his voice low but heavy, the words dragging against the silence. "Really think. If this vision of Owen’s is real... if there’s even the slightest chance that what he saw might come to pass, then I want the Wolf Spirit here. Watching. Guarding. He could tip the balance."

He wasn’t asking. He was pleading in the only way a king ever does—with command hidden beneath desperation.

I could feel it—the shift. The fear in his voice wasn’t just about the prophecy. Not really. It was what he wasn’t saying that made my skin crawl. The way his eyes shimmered, not with faith, but strategy. He was hiding something. Plotting something. And I knew that if I asked, he’d only deny it or twist the truth. He was the king, after all.

But I was done playing his games. I was done hiding the truth because as it stood, things were slowly spiraling out of control.

If we were going to dance this dance, it was going to be with all the cards on the table.

I exhaled slowly and crossed the room, standing before him with my hands in my pockets. "Dad," I said, voice low, steady, "I have a confession to make."

He raised an eyebrow, folding his arms. "A confession?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "You don’t need to be afraid of anything tomorrow. Not the masked attackers. Not the vision. Not even death."

He narrowed his eyes. "And why’s that?"

"Because..." I looked him straight in the eyes. "The Moon Goddess herself will be with us tomorrow. Watching. Protecting."

His lips parted slightly, confusion furrowing his brow. "What are you talking about, Zane?"

"You don’t need to invite Mist," I said. "Jacob will be there. Especially if Natalie is there."

He blinked, clearly thrown off. "Jacob would come for Natalie? Why?"

I let the words fall like a blade. "Because Natalie... is the Celestial Princess."

For a couple of heartbeats, silence took over the room.

And then—he laughed.

A sharp, barking sound that filled the room like thunder, echoing off the walls. It wasn’t kind laughter—it was disbelief, condescension. Mockery. The kind that cuts deep.

"You’re joking," he said between chuckles, shaking his head. "Tell me you’re joking."

"I’m not," I said firmly. "I’m serious."

"Oh, come on, Zane!" He wiped tears from his eyes, still chuckling. "You actually expect me to believe that nonsense? That little wolfless girl who hides behind your shadow is the Moon Goddess’ daughter? Natalie?"

"She’s not wolfless anymore," I growled, the edge in my voice sharp as steel. "And yes. I believe it. Because it’s the damn truth. Her lineage is royal. Her aura, her powers—they scream it. I have seen it with my own eye. And Jacob confirmed it himself."

The fire crackled between us, but it was nothing compared to the storm building in the room.

My father smirked, arms folding tighter. "You really think I’m that much of a fool, do you?"

"That’s not what I’m saying."

"No?" His eyes darkened. "Because it sounds like you’re trying to manipulate me. You’re so in love with this girl that you’re willing to make up fairytales just to keep her close."

My jaw clenched. "I’m not making anything up. You just don’t see her for who she really is."

"I’ve seen her plenty," he said dismissively. "And do you know what she smells like?"

I didn’t answer.

"She smells like you," he said coldly. "Not a wolf. Not even an Omega. Not a goddess. Just you. Your scent covers her like a blanket, Zane. That’s all she is—a girl playing dress-up in your world."

I took a step forward, voice rising. "That’s where you’re wrong. Natalie isn’t like the others. You can’t sense her power the normal way—it’s deeper. Woven into her soul. She’s different."

"Different?" His voice was sharp now, cruel. "She’s a nobody. And you’re trying to dress her up as a goddess because your heart’s too stubborn to let go."

"I swear to you, I’m telling the truth."

"Well, I’m tired of your ’truths,’ Zane." He turned back to the fire, shoulders tight with frustration. "Stop wasting my time with fantasy and find me a real solution to our problems."

Silence sat between us like smoke.

Then he looked over his shoulder. "Get Mist to come to the damn ball. That’s what you can do. That’s the only solution to all this."

I stared at the back of his head for a moment. The flames danced in front of him, drawing shadows that made him look like something ancient. Hardened. Distant.

"You never listen," I muttered under my breath.

"What was that?" he asked, not even bothering to turn around.

"You never listen when I tell you things," I said louder this time, the hurt creeping into my voice. "You only hear what you want."

He didn’t respond.

So I turned, striding toward the door. The storm in my chest was swelling. I needed to get out of that room before I said something I couldn’t take back.

But just as my hand wrapped around the handle—

"You don’t listen either," he said calmly.

I froze.

My spine stiffened as I turned back around. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. It was a cold, chilling thing. "I’ve commanded you. Threatened you. Begged you to end things with that girl."

My heart dropped.

"So?" I asked carefully.

"So... you didn’t listen."

He walked toward me slowly, his expression hardening.

"You defied me. Again and again. So I decided to stop waiting."

The room seemed to tilt.

"What did you do?" I asked, my voice low and deadly.

He stopped a few feet away. "I’ve taken matters into my own hands."

I blinked, barely breathing. "What does that mean?"

He looked me straight in the eye.

"I sent my men to get rid of her."

Everything inside me stilled.

The fire crackled behind him. The shadows danced on the walls.

But all I could hear was the rushing sound of blood in my ears.

The floor may as well have been ripped out from under me.

He sent men—for Natalie?

"You what?" I breathed, eyes wide, barely able to keep Red from clawing forward.

He tilted his head, unbothered. "She’s a liability. A distraction. You wouldn’t do what needed to be done, so I did it for you."

"You sent people to hurt her?" My voice cracked. I took a step toward him, fists clenched so tightly I could feel my nails digging into my palms.

"No, not hurt her," he said, a cold smile curling on his lips. "She’s a princess, after all. I merely ordered them to remove her."