The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter-Chapter 102: A Mistake

Jacob (Mist)~

I had lived for centuries. Time moved differently for me, like the steady pull of the moon on the tides—constant, inevitable, unchanging. And yet, in all those years, I had never been shaken, never been tempted, never questioned the choices I had made.

Until now.

I still remember the beginning as if it were yesterday. I remember the moment I first opened my eyes beneath the pale light of my mother, the Moon Goddess. I was her first born, the eldest among many, and with that came a purpose unlike any other.

Once, she was revered. Humans worshipped her, looked to her for guidance, and bathed in her celestial glow with prayers on their lips. But as time passed, their devotion waned. One by one, they turned away, seeking other gods, other paths, and for some—no gods at all. My mother did not curse them for their abandonment. She did not rage or smite them as some deities might have. Instead, she turned her love toward those who still believed, those who still lifted their heads to the night sky and whispered her name with reverence.

And among those faithful were the beings she had created at my sister’s plea—werewolves.

Mara, my sister, (Natalie) had always loved humanity more than I ever could. She saw their frailty, their fleeting lives, and instead of pitying them, she adored them. And in other to save a group of them, It was she who convinced our mother to create something new, something that blended the strength of beasts with the hearts of men. And so, werewolves were born.

But they were incomplete. They were powerful, yes, but without direction, without control. They were beings of instinct and impulse, driven by hunger, rage, and the pull of the moon. My mother turned to me then, entrusting me with a duty that would define my existence.

She gave me power—more than I had ever imagined. She placed within me the ability to shape the very consciousness of lost souls.

It was I who gave the wolves inside the humans their voice.

I shaped them into something more than primal creatures. I made them a conscience, a guiding force, a balance to the chaos of human emotions. They became more than just beasts—they became protectors, guardians, warriors of the night. Together, my mother and I created what should have been the perfect species, a true harmony of man and beast.

And for centuries, I fought for them.

I stood at the forefront of every battle, leading them, defending them against threats both human and supernatural. I bled for them, suffered for them, and in return, they revered me. They called me many names—Mist, the Wolf Spirit, the Father of Wolves.

But for all my love for them, there was one thing I could never find within myself—love for the remaining humans.

To me, they were betrayers. They had abandoned my mother when she had given them nothing but kindness, turned their backs on her in favor of other gods, or worse, turned their prayers into nothingness. Why should I care for them when they had cast her aside? Why should I lift a hand to save them when they had once prayed to her and then forgotten her name?

I did not.

Or at least, I tried not to.

But my mother was kind. And my sister was even kinder. There were humans, she said, who were still worthy of love, even if they did not worship her. And because of them, because of her, I sometimes found myself stepping in when I should not have. A lost traveler attacked by creatures in the night, a starving child abandoned in the snow, a woman crying for help with no one else to hear her—small moments, fleeting decisions.

I did not linger. I did not let them thank me. I did not let them look into my eyes for too long, for I had no desire to be anything to them. A betrayer would always be a betrayer, and I would not waste my heart on creatures that had once forsaken my mother.

That is... until I met her.

Easter.

********

The moment I stepped into my house with Easter and her daughter, Rose, I knew I had made a mistake.

Not because I regretted saving them—no, that wasn’t it. I had seen Easter’s life, her pain, her suffering, and something inside me had made a decision before I could think better of it. She had no one. And the thought of leaving her there, in that miserable house, terrified and broken, had sat wrong with me.

So, against my better judgment, I brought her here.

And now, as she stood in the middle of my living room, her arms wrapped tightly around her trembling body, her wide, cautious eyes scanning the unfamiliar space, I realized exactly what I had done.

I had just invited chaos into my life.

Easter didn’t fit here.

This house, my home, had always been a place of solitude. Built deep within the forest, hidden from prying eyes except when I wanted it to be found, it was a sanctuary—spacious but sparse. Not a home in the human sense. Just a place to exist between duties.

The walls were made of dark wood, the ceiling high with exposed beams, and the furniture was minimal—sleek, modern, and built for function rather than comfort. Even with Bubble’s soft touches here and there, It was still a house meant for a being like me, not for a fragile human woman and her child.

Rose, however, didn’t seem to care.

The tiny girl had wriggled free from my grasp and was now toddling around the room, her big, curious eyes taking in everything.

"This place is so big," she said, her little voice filled with awe as she touched the soft fabric of the couch.

Easter, on the other hand, wasn’t moving. She just stood there, clutching the sleeves of her too-thin sweater, her knuckles white. I could feel the fear radiating off her in waves.

She didn’t trust this place. She didn’t trust me.

Not completely.

A sharp pang hit my chest—unfamiliar, unwelcome. I shoved it aside before it could take root.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair before turning to her. "You’re safe here," I said, keeping my voice calm, steady. "No one will hurt you."

Easter flinched slightly, like she wasn’t sure whether to believe me.

The ridiculousness of this woman! It’s not like I wanted her here—she was the one who latched onto me, who begged me to take her with me.

Yet here she was, acting like I was the who dragged her here.

After what felt like forever, she finally spoke, her voice a whisper, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Why?"

I frowned. "Why what?"

"Why are you helping me?" She hesitated, eyes flickering with something I didn’t want to read. "I know I’m the one who begged you to take me, but..." Her voice dipped lower, almost fragile. "People don’t help others unless they want something in return."

My jaw tightened. So human. So painfully, frustratingly human.

"First of all," I said, my voice flat, "I’m not ’people.’" I stepped closer, watching as she tensed but held her ground. "Second, I don’t want anything from you."

She dropped her gaze, staring at her hands before slowly looking up at me again. "Then why?"

I had no answer for that. Or maybe I did, but I wasn’t about to say it out loud.

So, like always, when things got too personal, I shut it down.

"You think too much."

Easter blinked at me, clearly thrown off by my dismissiveness. But before she could say anything else, a sharp gust of wind blew through the room, rattling the windows.

And then, the ceiling opened up.

Easter let out a startled scream as a massive eagle swooped down from above, knocking over a lamp with the sheer force of its wings.

The large snow eagle landed in the middle of my living room, its sharp eyes locked onto me.

Rose gasped, her tiny hands clapping together in excitement. "Mummy, a bird!"

Easter barely had time to react before the eagle shimmered—its entire form twisting, stretching, morphing. Feathers melted into flesh, wings folded into limbs, and in the blink of an eye, a man stood where the bird had been.

I let out an exasperated sigh, rolling my eyes.

Eagle and his damn dramatic entrances.

His long black hair shifted as if caught in an invisible breeze, moving even when the air was still. Silver eyes glinted with quiet amusement as he dusted off the flowing robes draped over his frame, like he hadn’t just fallen out of the sky and shape-shifted in front of a child. Why the hell was he even wearing a robe?

I gave him a long, skeptical once-over, crossing my arms. "What the hell are you wearing?"

He met my stare without a hint of shame. "Alexander and I were cosplaying."

I exhaled through my nose, nodding slowly. Of course they were.

Easter clutched Rose tightly against her chest, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. "What the—what—who—?"

Eagle turned his piercing gaze on her, tilting his head slightly. "She’s human," he noted, his voice smooth and deep.

I sighed. "Obviously."

Eagle’s eyes flicked to me, then back to Easter. He was assessing her, probably reading the lingering fear in her posture, the way she was gripping her daughter like a lifeline.

Then, slowly, he smiled. "You brought home a human woman. That’s... new."

"Shut up."

His grin widened. "Does Natalie’s know about this? You know she has always been a matchmaker."

I groaned. "Why are you here, Eagle?"

His amusement faded, replaced by something more serious. "Natalie is leaving Paris tomorrow."

That got my attention.

I stiffened. "She’s going home?"

Eagle nodded. "And knowing you, I assume you’ll be going with her."

My immediate instinct was yes, of course.

I had always followed Natalie. It wasn’t just duty—it was instinct, ingrained in my very existence. I had protected her for centuries, across lifetimes, and I always would.

But now...

I glanced at Easter.

She was still watching Eagle warily, like she wasn’t sure whether he was real or a hallucination brought on by exhaustion. Rose, on the other hand, had gotten over her shock remarkably fast.

"Are you a fairy?" she asked, blinking up at Eagle with innocent curiosity.

Eagle crouched down to her level, his silver eyes gleaming. "Close."

Rose giggled. "You’re pretty."

Eagle chuckled. "Thank you, little one."

Easter, however, was still visibly shaken.

I let out a long sigh. "Eagle, stop scaring the human."

He blinked at me, all wide-eyed innocence. "I’m not scaring her. She’s here with you, and we both know you’re the scarier one."

I shot him a look before turning back to Easter. "This is Eagle. He’s my brother. He’s like me."

Her lips parted slightly. "Like... you?"

I nodded. "He’s the Wind Spirit."

Easter let out a slow breath, clearly struggling to process everything. "Right. Okay. Sure. Wind Spirit. Why not?"

I almost felt bad for her. Almost.

Eagle straightened, giving me a pointed look. "So, what are you going to do?"

I knew what he was asking.

Was I going to leave with Natalie tomorrow?

Or was I going to stay here—with them?

The answer should have been easy.

Natalie was my sister, my priority. The only person who had ever truly mattered to me. And yet...

I looked at Easter again.

At the way she was still gripping the edge of her sleeves, her body tense but trying to appear composed. At the way Rose had started to climb onto the couch like she already belonged here.

At the way the house no longer felt empty.

Damn it.

This was exactly why I didn’t get involved with humans.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling the beginnings of a headache forming.

"I need to think," I muttered.

Eagle smirked. "You? Think? Now that’s very new."

I threw a pillow at him.

He dodged it effortlessly, still grinning as he made his way toward the door. "Well, let me know when you make up your mind. But don’t take too long—Little Moon won’t wait forever."

And with that, he was gone, disappearing into the wind.

I exhaled heavily, turning back to Easter.

She was still watching me, her expression unreadable. "Are you leaving?" she asked softly.

I hesitated.

For the first time in centuries, I didn’t know what to do.

I had spent my existence following one path, one purpose. And now, for the first time, there was something—or rather, someone—making me question it.

My jaw tightened.

I wasn’t about to let a human—no matter how fragile, no matter how much she and her daughter looked at me like I was the only solid thing in their crumbling world—change who I was.

Humans weren’t loyal. They never had been.

And once she was free of her fears? She’d betray me.

Just like the rest of her kind.