The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter-Chapter 193: Bliss to Darkness

Cassandra~

Sebastian stood in front of the full-length mirror, adjusting the sleek collar of his midnight-blue suit. The rich velvet caught the warm light of the room just right, highlighting the broadness of his shoulders, the fine cut of the jacket, and the way the fabric hugged his tall frame. His jet-black hair, always immaculately styled, fell just over his brows, giving him that frustratingly handsome, boyish charm that always made me want to either kiss him senseless... or punch him.

I sat cross-legged on the bed, wearing one of his silk shirts—crimson and far too big on me. My fingers were tangled in the hem, twisting the fabric, while I watched him with a small smile. God, he was beautiful. And worse? He knew it.

He smirked when he noticed me staring, that cocky little twitch of his lips.

"What?" he asked, turning to face me with a dramatic flourish of his jacket. "You look like you want to devour me."

I snorted. "You wish."

He winked. "I know."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop smiling. My Sebastian.

He went back to fixing his cufflinks, the silver glinting like frost under the warm lights of the room. "You sure you don’t want to come?" he asked gently. The softness in his voice clashed with the usual sarcastic bite he was known for. "It’s going to be a big night. Zane’s finally going to be named heir. I want you there."

He didn’t turn around this time. He knew what I would say. We’d had this conversation more times than I cared to count.

"Sebastian..." I started, my voice heavy with guilt.

"Yeah, yeah," he murmured. "Too many supernaturals in one place. Risky. What if someone recognizes you? What if someone smells you on me and figures out you’re my mate?"

I lowered my eyes. The words sounded ridiculous now that he said them back, but they were all true. And I hated that.

"I just..." I paused, chewing on the inside of my cheek. "I don’t want to be the reason you get hurt. If anyone from Kalmia’s circle shows up—"

"I’ll handle them."

"Sebastian—"

"No," he said, finally turning to me. His tone was firmer now, more commanding. "You don’t get to protect me by pushing me away. Not anymore. You know I will stand by you through every dark corner of your past, Cass. I’ll kill for you. Lie for you. Hell, I even learned to cook for you."

That made me laugh, but my heart hurt.

"I’m serious," he continued, walking over to me. "You’re not alone in this fight. Not with me around."

He bent down and kissed me, slow and deep. The kind of kiss that made you forget there was a world out there trying to kill you.

When he finally pulled back, he grinned. "I made you snacks."

I blinked. "Snacks?"

"Yep." He walked to the doorway and leaned against the frame with the kind of lazy confidence only he could pull off. "There’s popcorn in the microwave, grilled cheese sandwiches on the counter, and I figured you’d want something sweet, so I made those peanut butter cookies you like."

"You’re a vampire," I said slowly, raising a brow. "You don’t even eat food. Why do you insist on cooking for me all the time?"

"I watch YouTube." He shrugged like it explained everything. "Besides, you’re my queen. Queens don’t cook. They lounge around in silk shirts that are too big for them and yell at their sexy vampire mates to bring them dessert."

I threw a pillow at him. He caught it effortlessly.

"Get out of here before you end up being late," I muttered, trying not to look too pleased.

"Oh, I’m already late." He grinned and walked over to kiss me again—twice—his hands slipping under the silk shirt, pulling me close. "I’ve been stalling all night just to spend a few more seconds with you."

"You made yourself late," I murmured against his lips, breathless.

"Correction," he said, his voice low, "we made love twice. That’s a good reason to be late, thank you very much."

I laughed again, breathless and happy. So damn happy.

"Be safe, Seb."

"I’ll be back before midnight."

"You’re not Cinderella," I teased.

"No," he said, kissing my forehead, "but I left my heart in this room."

With that, he was gone—claiming he was "super late" but still managing to spin around in the hallway for a final wink and air-kiss before slamming the front door dramatically.

I sighed and flopped backward onto the bed, smiling at the ceiling. How had someone like him ended up with someone like me?

After a moment, I dragged myself off the bed and padded into the kitchen. True to his word, the food was warm, the sandwiches perfectly toasted, and the cookies... damn. They were soft and sweet.

I curled up on the couch with a blanket and started a movie. Something light and funny. The kind Sebastian would’ve mocked me for watching. I laughed anyway, munching on a cookie.

Somewhere between the second act and the final climax of the movie, I must’ve nodded off.

I don’t know how long I was out, but when I came to, something felt... off. Like a chill crawling up my spine.

It wasn’t the kind of chill you get from a drafty window or a busted heater. This was different. This cold felt like it had fingers—cold, invisible fingers creeping up my spine.

I blinked hard. The movie was still playing. The house was dead quiet.

Too quiet.

Then I sat up—and froze.

Eight of them. Standing in my living room like they’d always belonged there.

Vampires.

Not the glittery kind. Not the tragic, misunderstood type. These ones were tall, pale, dressed head-to-toe in black. Their eyes glowed—not with hunger for blood, but something darker. Something colder.

Hatred.

I hadn’t heard a single sound. No creaking floorboards. No doors opening. Not even the sound of breathing. It was like they’d just... materialized out of the dark.

For a second, I thought I was still dreaming. Or hallucinating. Or both.

Then one of them spoke, his voice smooth and mocking. "Nice place. You must be enjoying yourself," he said with a smirk. "I’m sure you are. Lord Sebastian always did have a taste for luxury."

Everything in me snapped to attention.

I shot to my feet, instincts firing. My claws slid out in a whisper, and my fingers darted toward the dagger stashed under the couch—but I was too slow.

Too damn slow.

A sharp sting bloomed in my arm.

My vision wobbled, like the room had been dunked underwater.

"Wha—" I staggered, clutching the wall for balance. "What did you—"

One of them held up a syringe, grinning like he’d won a prize.

"Just a little cocktail," he said. "Something to keep you nice and mellow." fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

I tried to fight. I reached deep, desperate to call on the old strength—Kalmia’s strength. The power that always surged when things got bad. The thing that always kept me ahead of monsters like them.

But it wasn’t there anymore.

It was gone.

Stripped clean.

They didn’t know that. They thought they’d caught me slipping.

They thought this was their lucky night.

The shadows in the room grew longer as they stepped closer, swallowing everything around them.

"No..." I breathed, my heart pounding like thunder caught in a cage. "No—don’t—get away from me—"

Hands grabbed me. Icy, iron-hard hands. I kicked, I thrashed, I screamed—but my body moved like it was stuck in molasses. My muscles barely responded. My limbs felt like dead weight.

"You should’ve stayed away from him," one of them growled, lips brushing my ear like a curse. "You should’ve ended it when you had the chance. Because now? You’ll never get another one. We won’t let you hurt him."

I wanted to scream his name—Sebastian’s.

I wanted to torch the whole house, take them all with me.

But the world slipped away before I could make a sound.