The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter-Chapter 116: The Power Shift

Natalie~

The moment we stepped inside, the heavy wooden doors slammed shut behind us, cutting off the last murmurs of the pack outside. The entire space had been redecorated, it was different from when I had last seen it. The room was draped in dark leather and polished mahogany, a space designed to intimidate. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Darius always did have a flair for the dramatic.

Darius led us to his office, the place he had once marked me against my will. The office brought back dark memories but I pushed them away. The air between us was foggy with tension, and Darius wasted no time. He moved toward a sleek black chair at the head of a long table and gestured for us to sit. His every step was measured, controlled—but I didn’t miss the way his jaw clenched when his gaze flickered back to me.

Jacob and I exchanged a glance before settling into our seats across from him. I leaned back, draping an arm over the chair, my body language deliberately relaxed, while Jacob sat forward, exuding quiet confidence.

Darius folded his hands on the table, his black eyes locked onto me before they shifted to Jacob. "Who are you and what is the purpose of your visit?" His voice was smooth, but there was an undercurrent of unease, as if he already knew this conversation wouldn’t go the way he wanted.

Jacob tilted his head slightly before offering a slow, easy smile. "Garrick Wilson," he said smoothly. "And I’m here to make sure your little coup doesn’t collapse before it even begins."

Darius’s gaze sharpened, a flicker of surprise flashing through his dark eyes before he masked it behind an easy smirk. But there was no warmth in it—just cold calculation.

"Interesting," he drawled, his voice smooth, deliberate. "But I’m afraid you’ve lost me. I have no idea what you’re talking about." He leaned back slightly, tilting his head as his eyes flicked to me, his smirk widening just enough to be infuriating. "What intrigues me more is why you decided to bring her here."

His gaze lingered on me again, his nostrils flaring just slightly as if he was fighting some internal battle. His fingers curled against the table, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

Jasmine stirred in my mind, laughing darkly. "Oh, he’s seething. I love it."

I arched a brow, meeting his stare head-on. "Something on your mind, Alpha?" I asked, voice dripping with mock sweetness.

His lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t take the bait. Not yet.

Jacob let out a low, amused chuckle, effortlessly pulling Darius’s focus back to him. His expression was relaxed, almost bored, but his eyes gleamed with something sharp and dangerous.

"Are you sure you don’t know what I’m talking about?" he mused, tilting his head slightly. Then, with a slow, knowing smile, he added, "Because without us, your little coup is already dead in the water."

That got his attention.

Darius’s smirk faded ever so slightly, his shoulders tensing as he studied Jacob. "Elaborate."

Jacob leaned forward; his facial expression was smooth but predatory, making sure he had Darius’s full attention. "We know about Nathan. We know about Dexter. And we know that you’re planning to kill the king."

Silence crashed over the room.

Darius didn’t react at first. He merely studied Jacob, as if trying to peel back the layers of his mind, to uncover how much we truly knew. Then, slowly, he leaned back in his chair, expression controlled.

"You speak boldly for a stranger," he finally said, his voice low, measured.

Jacob shrugged, unconcerned. "I speak facts. The question is, do you want to hear them?"

Darius drummed his fingers against the table, his gaze flickering toward me again. Something in his expression shifted, a flicker of something I couldn’t quite place. Nostalgia? Regret? No. That wasn’t it. That would imply he was capable of either.

"You shouldn’t be here," he said at last, his tone quieter now. "You were banished."

Jasmine bared her teeth. "Oh, he did not just say that."

I let out a slow breath, meeting his gaze with a smirk. "And yet, here I am," I said lightly. "Almost as if your opinion of where I belong doesn’t matter to me at all."

Darius’s jaw tightened.

I leaned forward, my voice dipping into something just a little sharper, a little crueler. "I go where I choose, Darius. And if you have a problem with that, I suggest you keep it to yourself—unless, of course, you want to regret it."

Darius’s growl rumbled through the room, low and dangerous, the kind that once would have sent ice through my veins. But not anymore.

I met his glare with an amused smirk, lounging back in my chair as if his fury was nothing more than an irritating buzz in the background. His nostrils flared, his black eyes burning with a barely restrained rage. The Darius I once knew had always expected me to cower—to fold beneath his presence like brittle paper. But today? Today, he was learning that the girl he had broken was gone.

The new me—the real me—had no patience for his theatrics.

"You dare speak to me like that?" he snarled, his fingers digging into the polished surface of the table. "You forget your place, Natalie."

I let out a slow, lazy sigh, tilting my head as I tapped a finger against my chin. "Hmm. My place. Right." I met his glare with a slow, mocking smile. "Remind me again—was my ’place’ when you marked me against my will? Or was it when you threw me away like garbage? Or was it when you sent your hounds after me like I was prey—after you were the one who cast me out in the first place?" I leaned forward, voice soft but laced with venom. "Or maybe, just maybe, my place is wherever the hell I decide it is."

Darius’s growl deepened, his hands clenching into fists. "You’re playing a dangerous game."

I arched a brow. "And you’re the one losing."

For a split second, something flickered in his eyes—confusion, disbelief. Like he couldn’t reconcile the fearless woman sitting in front of him with the broken girl he had once tossed aside. Good. Let him struggle with that.

I waved a dismissive hand, as if brushing his anger away. "I’d love to keep playing ’who’s more intimidating’ with you, Darius, but I don’t have the time. There are more important things at hand—like your little coup."

His face hardened. "Didn’t I just tell you that I don’t know what you’re talking about?"

I rolled my eyes. "Right. And I’m the Tooth Fairy."

Darius turned his glare to Jacob, the muscle in his jaw twitching. "This is a waste of my time. Leave, now. And as for Natalie," his lips curled into a dark smirk, "she isn’t walking out of this pack. Ever again."

Jasmine stirred inside me, her laughter slithering through my mind. "Oh, he thinks he has a say in this? How cute."

I didn’t flinch. Didn’t react. Instead, I just smiled. "Bold of you to assume you have that kind of power over me anymore."

Darius’s eyes darkened, but before he could spew whatever nonsense he had lined up next, a chuckle cut through the tension.

Jacob.

He leaned back lazily in his chair, amusement dancing in his warm brown eyes, looking as if he had all the time in the world to play with Darius. "Oh, Darius," he mused, shaking his head. "You always did love empty threats."

Darius’s lip curled. "You’re testing my patience."

Jacob’s grin widened. "Good. Then let’s see how you handle this."

Without warning, a flash of light shimmered in the air, and then—

The room tensed.

The royal scepter materialized in Jacob’s hand, gleaming with an undeniable, overwhelming aura of power.

The symbol of the Lycan throne.

Silence swallowed Darius whole.

Darius stiffened, his breath hitching as his eyes locked onto the ancient artifact. His pupils dilated, shock rippling through his features like cracks in a carefully crafted mask.

Jacob didn’t move. He simply lifted the scepter slightly, letting its weight, its meaning, settle into the air. Then, with slow, deliberate grace, he rose to his feet, his movements fluid, unhurried.

"You sure you want me to leave?" His voice was deceptively light, but beneath it was something vast. Something dangerous.

Darius shot up from his chair so fast that it scraped against the floor with a sharp screech. His chest rose and fell heavily, as if the air itself had grown too thick for him to breathe.

His voice, when he finally spoke, was hoarse. "Who the hell are you?"

Jacob smirked.

And just like that, the power in the room had shifted.