The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter
Chapter 252: The Demon Within

Chapter 252: The Demon Within

Natalie~

Darkness wasn’t silent. It shrieked.

When I let Kalmia in, it was like opening the door to a storm and standing still as it swallowed me whole. Her presence surged into me, not like water but fire. Blistering, spiteful, and greedy. My veins screamed. My bones locked. My mind cracked.

And then—

I was nowhere.

Not asleep. Not awake. Suspended in something ancient and terrible. A void, endless and pulsing with shadows. The sky above me was a deep bruise of stars and torn clouds. The ground beneath my feet was black glass, fractured, echoing every step I dared take.

"Well," a voice purred, slithering through the air, "that was easy."

Kalmia stepped out from the shadows like she’d been born of them. Her hair hung like vines soaked in ink, her eyes gleamed obsidian and cruel. She wore my skin like a costume, but twisted — her smile too wide, her limbs too graceful, too wrong.

"You really are your mother’s child. Reckless. Self-sacrificing. Stupid."

I clenched my fists. The ache hadn’t stopped since she entered me. My body felt like it was on fire and frozen all at once.

"You wanted in," I said, my voice rasping. "Here you are."

Kalmia tilted her head, smiling as if I were amusing.

"Oh sweet girl. You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t your domain anymore. This..." she spun in a slow circle, arms wide, "this is mine."

I felt it like a storm breaking through locked doors—Kalmia’s influence slithering into my mind, creeping in slow and deliberate. Her presence wrapped around my memories like thorned vines, squeezing until they bled. I blinked—and suddenly, I was thirteen again.

On my knees. Surrounded.

The scent of blood was everywhere—my parents’, my friends’, my tears. It soaked the ground beneath me. Familiar faces, twisted in pain and betrayal, formed a perfect circle around me. And behind it all... the Alpha’s cruel laughter echoed through the trees like a curse carved into the wind.

"STOP!" I screamed.

The vision shattered like glass underfoot—gone in a blink, but its sting lingered in my chest.

Kalmia’s voice slithered through the darkness behind my eyes, soft and laced with venom. "You want to know the real difference between you and me?" Her figure appeared, circling me slowly, a smile playing on her lips that never quite reached her eyes. "I don’t wear a mask. I don’t slap hope over broken bones and call it healing."

She moved like smoke, graceful, dangerous. A predator savoring the fear in her prey.

"I had a daughter once," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper thick with memory. "Hair like starlight. A laugh that made even the coldest wolves forget their hunger."

Something inside me cracked.

Then her tone darkened, like clouds before a storm.

"She died," Kalmia spat. "Because of your mother. Because the Moon Goddess picked favorites."

She stepped closer, her voice trembling, rage tangled with grief. "I begged her. I begged for my child’s life. And what did she do?" Kalmia’s eyes burned into mine. "She locked me away like some cursed secret. She took everything from me."

The pain in her voice hit deeper than any threat ever could.

Her breath brushed my cheek as she whispered, "So now... I’ll take you. Not because I simply want revenge." She smiled, and it made my blood run cold. "But because you’re her precious little flower. The perfect piece I can break."

Jasmine roared in my chest, her energy flaring like wildfire.

"Let me out," she snarled. "I’ll tear her throat out, Mara."

I swallowed hard, my fists clenched, heart pounding against my ribs like it wanted to escape.

"No," I breathed, eyes locked on Kalmia’s. "Not yet."

Because this wasn’t just about rage anymore. It was about timing—and making damn sure Kalmia knew what it felt like to feel pain... slow agonizing pain.

"You’re breaking, Natalie," Kalmia whispered, her voice wrapping around my thoughts like smoke. "Little by little, you’re unraveling. How long before you forget your name? Your wolf? Your siblings? That boy you’d burn the world for?"

A flicker of panic hit me like a dagger between the ribs.

Zane.

Was he still breathing? Was his heart still fighting for me the way I was for him?

No. No—I couldn’t spiral. Not now.

"You’re not stronger than me," I said through clenched teeth, forcing my mind to lock in place. "You don’t get to win. I brought you here. That means I’m still in control."

Kalmia laughed—and it wasn’t just a laugh. It was a crack of thunder in a dead sky. A sound that echoed through bone and memory.

"You think that matters?" she said with a grin sharp enough to cut the sun. "You let me in, Natalie. The second you opened that door... you gave up the throne."

She raised her hand—and the sky above us tore open like old flesh. From the darkness spilled nightmares, twisting and clawing as they fell.

Memories. My memories, poisoned and distorted.

Alpha Darius’ twisted grin as he marked me.

Zane’s pale face, still and quiet like a goodbye I never agreed to. Alex—sweet Alex—smiling innocently at me.

I collapsed. My screams tore through the void.

Everything was crumbling.

My mind. My soul. Myself.

But then—

"Mara," Jasmine’s voice whispered within me, gentler now, laced with purpose. "Build the prison. You were never just a girl. You are divine. You are so much more."

A breath caught in my throat. Something ancient and familiar stirred in my chest.

"You said it yourself," I rasped, planting my hands into the ground, rising with shaking arms. "I’m my mother’s daughter."

Kalmia’s snarl twisted the air. "Don’t you dare—"

But I was already standing.

I raised my arms to the sky. I called to the blood in my veins, to the legacy that ran deeper than pain. I reached for the Moon. For the ancient magic that belonged to me before I was even born. Light bloomed from my chest—soft at first, then brighter, stronger, burning with purpose.

"NO!" Kalmia screamed, her voice cracking like thunder as she lunged at me.

But it was too late.

The prison was born.

Silver light erupted around us, forming a dome carved with runes older than language—etched in moonlight, wrapped in divine will. It closed around her like glass forged from starlight and power, sealing her inside.

She slammed her fists against it, shrieking in fury.

"You think this pathetic cage will hold me forever?! I AM CHAOS!"

I stepped closer, eyes glowing, voice calm and sure.

"No," I said. "You’re pain. You’re what’s left when the world forgets to love."

My hand pressed against the dome.

"But I am love. I am choice. I am joy. I am future. I am stronger than you ever were."

Kalmia shrieked and threw her head back, laughing like a demon unbound. "This isn’t over, Natalie Cross! You have to sleep. You have to dream. And I’ll be there—in every shadow. In every crack. In every corner of your mind."

I let her words hang in the silence.

Then I whispered, "Let them come. I’ll be waiting."

I stumbled back a step.

The prison held... but just barely.

It wasn’t still. It wasn’t peaceful. It fought. The dome shuddered as Kalmia raged against it, every strike vibrating through the air, through me. It groaned like the world itself resented the weight of her chaos. This wasn’t a clean win. Not yet.

I was still tethered to her.

My vision swam, edges blurring. Time lost meaning—it stretched and twisted until I couldn’t tell if seconds had passed or entire lifetimes. My body felt distant, weightless, like I was suspended between dreams and dying.

And then, a voice appeared.

Soft, but powerful. Like thunder rolling across a dying storm.

"Natalie. Can you hear me?"

My eyes widened. That voice—familiar. Real.

"Jacob?" I breathed.

And just like that, the world tilted back into place.

Relief crashed into me like a wave too heavy to stand under. I didn’t even realize how much I needed to hear him—until I did.

His voice wrapped around me like a warm blanket. Steady. Solid. Warm.

"Are you alright?"

I exhaled, the breath rattling out of me like I’d been holding it for centuries. "I... I think so. The prison’s holding her, but... she’s still inside me. I need her gone."

"Good," he said, and I could hear the quiet fire in his tone. "That means it worked. You just need to hold her a little longer. Buy us time."

"Time?" I asked, voice cracking. "Jacob... what are you doing? What do you mean?"

There was a pause. But not from hesitation. From certainty.

"Trust me," he said, and the words landed in my chest like a promise etched in stone. "You’re not alone. Not now. Not ever. You will always have me."

And just like that... he was gone.

But this time, the silence didn’t feel like drowning.

It breathed with me.

It held a rhythm.

A heartbeat.

Hope.

I closed my eyes. Felt the thrum of moonlight still pulsing in my chest, like the universe hadn’t quite given up on me yet.

I inhaled slowly.

Held it.

Let it go.

And I waited.