The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter
Chapter 255: Stay Quiet

Chapter 255: Stay Quiet

Sebastian~

"Tiger," I growled, barely reining in the crackle beneath my skin. "Please. Just give it to me straight. Where. Is. Zane?"

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Didn’t move an inch.

I asked again—louder this time, my voice slicing through the quiet between us. I stepped in, close enough to catch the scent of damp soil and tree bark curling from his skin. That wild, rooted scent he always carried like some forest-born sentinel.

But still—nothing.

Tiger just stood there.

Unmoving. Unshaken.

Like a living statue carved from ancient wood and quiet defiance. A tree that refused to bend, no matter how loud the wind screamed.

I could’ve screamed myself.

"Tiger," I tried again, quieter now, my voice threaded with a lethal kind of calm. "Tell me where Zane is. Now."

His gaze didn’t even flicker.

The silence around him was so thick, it felt like the room itself was holding its breath.

Fine.

I snapped my attention toward the far end of the hall—toward the stone archway where Eagle had materialized like a damn ghost. Arms crossed, cloak draped just-so, expression carved from marble. Classic Eagle.

His pale eyes locked with mine.

Still. Silent. Watching me like I was the unpredictable storm rolling in.

"Don’t tell me you’re joining the mute brigade," I snapped, stalking toward him. "This isn’t the moment for your feathered zen-master act, Eagle. I don’t need riddles or stoic looks. I need answers."

But his face didn’t shift. Not a smirk, not a twitch. Just silence. Deep and maddening.

It echoed. Reverberated in the space between us like some ancient warning bell.

No words.

No hint.

Nothing but stillness so loud it roared.

Something inside me started to unravel.

Not fear—I don’t do fear. I’m a vampire, remember? Fear’s something mortals breathe. I deal in shadows and blood and the kind of monsters that sleep under their beds.

But this?

This wasn’t fear.

This was something worse.

This was helplessness—vile and slow, pooling in my chest like cold poison. Frustration churned just beneath my ribs, sharp and heavy like a knife pressed against the inside of my skin.

I clenched my fists.

They wouldn’t look at me. Not really.

And suddenly, the silence wasn’t just silence.

It was a message.

Something had happened. Something big. Something they didn’t want to say out loud. Something they thought I couldn’t handle.

Bad idea.

Because I don’t do secrets.

And I don’t do silence.

Especially when the person missing is Zane.

My voice came out low. Tight. "You both know something. I can smell it on you. So unless you want me to tear this place apart piece by piece, start talking."

Still... not a word.

Tiger’s jaw twitched, just once, like he was holding something back.

Eagle looked away.

And my stomach dropped.

Because for the first time since this whole nightmare started—I felt it.

The truth, heavy and close, standing just behind the silence like a ghost I couldn’t touch.

Something was wrong.

Really wrong.

And they were afraid to tell me.

"I swear to the old gods," I growled, backing away, "if you won’t tell me, I’ll find him myself. I’ll tear apart every gate, every dimension, and every realm between heaven and hell to find him. And if anything—anything—happens to him before I do..."

I didn’t finish.

I didn’t need to.

I spun on my heel, coat snapping behind me like a bat’s wing caught in a storm, and stormed out of the palace without a backward glance. Every step echoed like gunshots on marble. I didn’t care who saw. Let the nobles gasp. Let the guards whisper.

The night swallowed me whole.

The moment I hit the courtyard, I ripped my phone from my coat and punched Zane’s number.

Ring.

Voicemail.

Again.

Voicemail.

Again.

Still voicemail.

I gritted my teeth. "Zane, I swear—pick up this call or I’ll drain every pigeon in this city and offer a blood-soaked tribute to whatever ancient force needs bribing to get your attention."

Still no answer.

"Zane! Quit playing hide-and-seek with a vampire. Spoiler alert: it never ends well for the seeker!"

Still nothing.

I clenched the phone tighter and slammed my thumb against the screen. Then I ditched subtlety.

"Zane! Answer me, you royal idiot! If you’re dead, I’m going to find your corpse, resurrect it, and kill you again myself!"

Still silence. Not even a mental blink. The tether trembled with cold emptiness.

Fine. Two can play the drama game.

I hissed, fangs threatening to drop. My voice lowered, teeth clenched.

"Okay, fine. You win. I’m dramatic. I’m a whole opera. But if you don’t answer me in the next thirty seconds, I will sniff out every realm you’re hiding in and drag your sparkly-robed behind back by your royal collar—even if I have to break into the cursed lands we swore to never, ever touch again!"

Still... quiet.

Then, softer—almost a prayer—I whispered, "Don’t you dare die on me, Zane. Don’t you get hurt. Not until I get there. Not until I find you."

"Alright, alright. Calm your undead panties."

My whole body froze.

That voice.

His voice.

I nearly dropped the phone. My knees wobbled like a newborn fawn learning gravity. "Zane?" I breathed, disbelief cracking my chest open.

"Who else hits sarcasm at this volume?" His voice was strained but unmistakably alive.

I didn’t even bother playing it cool. "You absolute cryptid. I’ve been screaming through every plane of existence trying to reach you. I thought you were—" I stopped myself.

"I wasn’t," he cut in gently. "Just... spiritually detained."

"You had me spiraling, you overgrown lightbulb. I was ready to start a blood sacrifice cult just to send you a message!"

"I heard," he groaned. "Do pigeons deserve this kind of slander?"

"You’re lucky I didn’t go for doves. Where the hell are you?"

He sighed, long and tired. "I’m at the Vereth Estate."

I blinked. "You’re joking. I checked that place twice. Had every ward scanned."

"Fox cloaked the estate," he murmured. "No one could see us. Not even you."

I gritted my teeth. "Son of a—fine. I’m coming."

The world shimmered the moment I reached the gates. The air rippled like disturbed water, bending light and scent alike. Then he appeared.

Bubble.

Floating above the lawn barefoot, the water-aura flickering around him like a living shield, calm and surreal as always.

I didn’t pause. "You gonna let me in, or should I crash-land into the fountain for dramatic effect?"

He waved a hand. The veil bent, parted—and I was through before it even finished peeling open.

"Thanks," I muttered, already sprinting.

I didn’t walk.

I ran.

The scent hit me halfway through the corridor—warm cinnamon and rain-soaked power. Zane. And—

Natalie.

My body moved faster. Doors blurred past me. Then I was there.

I kicked the door open and tore into the room like a storm made of shadows and silk and fury.

Zane sat on the edge of the bed. His back hunched, his fingers laced with Natalie’s, his golden-black tunic wrinkled, hair in wild tangles. He looked like a fallen monarch—drenched in battle-weariness and sleepless nights.

Natalie lay beside him.

Still.

Too still.

I didn’t speak. I marched straight to him and punched him in the shoulder.

Hard.

He grunted. "Ow! Sebastian!"

"That’s for making me think you were dead, you royal dumbass."

He gave a tired laugh, one that barely reached his eyes. "Fair."

"You look like a corpse that forgot how to corpse properly."

"Technically, I overslept. But it wasn’t exactly peaceful."

I looked at Natalie. Her skin was pale—almost translucent. Her brow furrowed like she was dreaming of war. "She’s not just sleeping, is she?"

Zane’s smile vanished. He shook his head slowly.

I swallowed. "What’s happening?"

He glanced at Natalie again, as if grounding himself. "She’s fighting."

My stomach twisted.

"Kalmia’s inside her," he continued. "Trying to take over."

My throat went dry. "...She’s what?"

His jaw locked. His hands stayed clenched around Natalie’s like a man holding onto the edge of a cliff.

"She’s pushing. Trying to break through. Natalie’s holding her back, but... it’s not easy. She’s doing it from the inside. I can’t even reach her through our bond."

I stepped closer, staring down at her like I could see the war being fought beneath her skin.

"She looks... gone."

"She’s hollow," he said quietly. "All her energy’s in the spirit realm. Fighting. Alone."

A chill rolled through me, bone-deep.

And then I heard it again—Kalmia’s voice, coiled like smoke in the back of my mind:

"Don’t get cocky, Sebastian. I’m working on something old. Something divine. In four days, Mist’s powers will be dust beneath my feet."

My breath caught.

This was it. Her masterpiece. Natalie—the celestial vessel. Me—the rare blood.

All in one room.

"What happens if she wins?" I asked, even though I already knew.

Zane didn’t answer.

He didn’t need to.

I saw it in his eyes.

If Kalmia took Natalie... and then got me?

She’d be unstoppable.

A demon wearing god-touched flesh, powered by ancient blood—mine. A queen carved from nightmares and sanctified in fire.

I looked at Natalie again. Her fingers twitched. Her jaw clenched.

She was still in there.

Still fighting.

But how long could she hold out?

Zane’s voice broke through the tension. "She told her brothers not to call anyone. Said she didn’t want more people dragged into this."

I stared at him, then smirked faintly. "Yeah, well. She forgot about me."

Zane’s lips curved. Barely. "She should’ve known better."

I studied him.

Really looked.

The sag of his shoulders. The dimness behind his golden eyes. He wasn’t just tired.

He was breaking.

And I had a choice.

Tell him what I knew—that Kalmia was after me too. That she wanted to spill my blood on some altar older than time. That I might be the final piece of whatever horror show she was assembling.

Or stay quiet.

Let him carry only what he already held: a kingdom, a broken girl, and a monster clawing from inside her.

I didn’t speak.

I just watched.

And for once, I had no witty comeback. No sharp jab. No curse dressed in velvet.

Only fear.

And silence.

And the sound of Natalie’s breathing—slow, strained, and slipping.

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