The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter
Chapter 235: The First Kiss, The First Goodbye

Chapter 235: The First Kiss, The First Goodbye

Jacob~

"Okay," she whispered and nodded.

That one little nod from Easter—it shattered and rebuilt me all at once.

She was trembling, cheeks streaked with drying tears, her emerald eyes wide and glassy. I felt her unspoken answer pulse in the quiet space between us, and for a second, I couldn’t move. My body felt too full—too alive.

Rose stirred softly in her arms, a sleepy mumble escaping her tiny lips. Easter glanced down, brushing her daughter’s curls back gently, and I used that moment to lean in.

"Let me," I whispered.

Her eyes flicked to mine. She didn’t resist as I reached forward, cradling Rose’s tiny, warm body with both arms. The little one sighed against my shoulder, heavy with sleep.

Easter watched me with something between awe and disbelief. Like she couldn’t quite believe I was real.

I walked carefully to the couch in the corner of the room and gently laid Rose down, tucking the quilt over her small frame. She shifted once, then settled again.

Then I turned back to Easter.

She was still seated at the dining table, fingers curled lightly around the edge, her lips parted slightly, breath hitching when I stepped toward her.

I could hear her heartbeat—fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings.

I reached out and took her hand, coaxing her to her feet.

She rose slowly, never breaking eye contact, her eyes wide with uncertainty... and something else—hope.

"Easter," I breathed, "may I kiss you?"

A startled blush painted her cheeks instantly, and she let out the softest laugh—barely a sound, really, just a breath wrapped in nervous delight. "I... yes. Please."

I closed the distance between us.

Our hands were still joined. Her fingers were so small in mine. I reached up and brushed a wild curl away from her forehead, letting my fingertips linger on her temple.

Then, slowly, reverently, I leaned in.

And kissed her.

Our lips touched like the gentlest of whispers—soft and unsure at first, like the air itself held its breath for us. Her mouth was warm, trembling under mine. I didn’t rush it. I didn’t deepen it—not yet. I just savored that moment.

Because it was my first.

In all the centuries I’ve roamed this earth—known as Mist, the Wolf Spirit, the Alpha of the Ancients—nothing ever came close to this moment.

I had never kissed anyone before.

Not because I couldn’t. I just never needed to.

My existence had always revolved around Natalie. She was my purpose, my anchor. I raised her like my own, protected her with everything I had, guided her through the chaos of life and time. Through it all, she never stopped believing I deserved something more. She spent lifetimes trying to find me a mate, someone who could break through the walls I didn’t even realize I’d built. She told me I was worthy of love—real, soul-deep love.

But I never listened. No one ever reached me. No one ever moved me.

Until Easter.

She didn’t just stir something inside me. She lit a fire I thought had long turned to ash. With one look, one smile, she shattered centuries of silence in my heart.

And for the first time in a thousand lifetimes, I wanted to be kissed.

And this kiss?

It wasn’t just a kiss.

It was the breaking of an eternal silence.

Because with her—it meant something. It meant everything.

And Easter... she melted into me.

Her fingers fluttered to my chest, gripping the fabric of my shirt like she might fall if she let go. She whimpered softly against my mouth—a sound so vulnerable and real it sent a shiver down my spine.

When I finally pulled back, our foreheads stayed pressed together.

She exhaled shakily. "Jacob..."

I smiled gently. "Yeah?"

"That was my first kiss since... everything. And..." She glanced down shyly, her lashes fluttering. "It felt like a dream. Like a beautiful dream I don’t want to wake up from."

"I’ll make sure you never have to," I said, cupping her cheek.

She giggled softly, then covered her mouth, surprised at her own joy. "I’ve loved you since the first day I saw you," she whispered. "But I didn’t think I was allowed to feel that. Not after everything."

I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close. "You were always allowed. You deserve joy, Easter. You deserve everything."

Later that night, after we bathed Rose and tucked her into her little bed—Easter sang her a lullaby so sweet it made the moon peek shyly from behind the clouds—we retreated to the den.

The lights were low. The night air was cool. We lay together on the oversized couch, a soft blanket draped over us, our limbs tangled like they’d always belonged that way.

We kissed again.

Longer this time.

Deeper.

There was no rush. No urgency. Just our hearts learning each other’s rhythm.

Easter tucked her head beneath my chin, her curls tickling my jawline. "I still can’t believe this is real," she whispered against my chest.

I tightened my hold. "It is. You’re mine now, Easter. And I’ll always be with you."

"You’re really not going to fall in love with someone else one day?" she teased shyly, but her voice was thick with vulnerability.

I leaned down and kissed her forehead. "There’s no one else for me. Ever. You are it, Easter. You and Rose... you’re my family now. You’re my always."

She pressed a hand to my heart. "I love the way you say that."

"I love you," I replied simply.

And for a while, we talked about everything and nothing. We laughed at stupid things. She told me about how Rose once tried to feed a squirrel cereal. I told her about the time Bubble accidentally turned all of Eagle’s feathers pink. It was warm. Easy. Peaceful.

Until the peace broke.

It started with the softest whimper.

I didn’t even realize she’d drifted off until her fingers curled into my shirt, clutching like a child lost in the dark.

"No..." she breathed, barely audible. "Somebody help me... Jacob... Natalie... please... someone—"

Her chest hitched. Her breath came faster.

I sat up, heart pounding, every muscle in me tense as I watched her face twist in agony.

"No—Jacob—no no no—" she cried out, still trapped in sleep.

Tears slipped silently down her cheeks.

"Easter," I whispered, brushing back the strands of hair that clung to her damp forehead. "Sweetheart, wake up..."

But she didn’t.

She trembled.

Caught in that memory again.

That night.

That awful, soul-tearing night.

I’ve seen death. I’ve watched wars unfold, stood witness as entire civilizations vanished like smoke on the wind. But nothing—nothing—cut me deeper than seeing her like this. Drowning in that pain all over again.

It rose up in my throat—raw and unbearable.

The ache.

The helplessness.

The tears that burned behind my eyes.

Gods, I wanted to cry.

Instead, I reached for her cheek, held her gently, and whispered, "It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’m right here."

She jolted awake with a gasp, eyes wide and disoriented, tears clinging to her lashes. Her whole body was trembling.

"Jacob...?" she whispered, as if unsure the world she was seeing was real.

I cradled her face, smiling as gently as I could, even though something inside me felt like it was shattering.

"Shhh," I breathed. "You’re safe now. You’re with me."

She looked down, ashamed. "It’s so stupid... I know I’m not there anymore. Tiger saved me. You came. I’m free."

"You’re healing," I said, softly but firmly. "And you don’t have to go through this alone. I’ll help you. I’ll make the nightmares stop."

She looked up at me, confused, guarded. "How?"

I wiped a tear from her cheek with my thumb.

"You won’t have to remember that night anymore."

Her eyes widened, alarmed. "Jacob...? No!"

I pulled her close, even as my heart screamed at me. Screamed to stop. But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t let her live with that pain anymore.

"It’s going to be okay," I whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I love you, Easter. I always have. Nothing changes that."

Her hands gripped my arms like lifelines. "Jacob, please don’t. Please..."

But I kissed her.

Softly. Slowly.

Not to silence her, but to carry her—to take that one memory and lift it from her mind, piece by piece, like mist burned away by morning light.

She sighed against my lips.

Her body loosened. Unknotted.

The pain... slipped away.

She wouldn’t remember the screams.

The fear.

The way it broke her.

Not anymore.

When I finally pulled back, her eyes fluttered open, dazed and searching.

"I feel... strange," she whispered.

I pulled her close again, held her like the world might tear her away if I didn’t.

"No more nightmares," I murmured into her hair.

She melted into my chest, the way only someone truly exhausted does. Her breathing evened out. Her fingers unclenched.

And when she slept again, it was peaceful.

Only then did I let the tears fall—quietly, into her curls.

"I’m so sorry," I whispered, rocking her gently. "But I had to protect you, Easter. I had to."

She looked so still. So safe in my arms.

And I made a vow to the stars, the gods, and the earth beneath us:

As long as I drew breath...

As long as I was still Mist...

I would never let her break again.