The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter-Chapter 212: Guilty

Jacob~

I don’t remember ever being this nervous in my entire existence—and I’ve existed for a long, long time.

The trees of Tiger’s forest blurred past us as Natalie and I ran in our wolf forms, swift and silent through the underbrush. Neither of us spoke—not out loud, not through the link. We didn’t need to. The guilt was too loud. It gnawed at us with every pounding step. I’d failed her.

Easter’s voice still haunted me from the vision—cracked, trembling, whispering my name like a prayer that never got answered.

Natalie’s thoughts were a whirlwind beside mine, a storm of shame and sorrow. She was usually fire and sharp edges, but now she was ash—muted, broken.

We didn’t teleport to Tiger’s house. We could’ve. It would’ve been easier, faster. But we needed the run—needed the wind in our fur, the sting of branches against our skin, the rhythm of paws hitting earth—to ground us, to clear our heads before facing Easter.

As the cabin came into view through the trees, we slowed, shifting back into our human forms just beyond the clearing. The transition was smooth, practiced, but even in human skin, the ache lingered.

Tiger’s cabin stood ahead, tall and solid, its golden logs weathered by time and sun. The forest wrapped around it like a secret. Normally, it brought peace. Not today. Today, it felt like a place of judgment.

We had come alone. We’d left Bubble and Eagle behind to clean up what was left of Zane’s estate—what little there was after the chaos. Fox had gone ahead, splitting from us an hour ago to begin the search for Shadow and find out where he’d taken Griffin.

The cabin door creaked open.

Tiger stepped out.

His eyes met mine immediately—golden and knowing, always so calm. But today there was a tension in his shoulders, a tightness around his jaw. His hands were shoved deep into his coat pockets.

"She’s inside," he said softly. "Still shaken up. She hasn’t said much. Rose is sleeping. But Easter... she hasn’t really let herself rest. Not really."

My throat closed up.

Natalie stepped forward. "Can we see her?"

Tiger nodded. "Just... be gentle. Especially you, Jacob."

He didn’t mean it unkindly. But it cut anyway.

I swallowed hard and stepped toward the cabin. The wooden floor creaked under my boots as I entered. The air was warm, filled with the faint scent of honey and firewood. I could hear Rose’s soft, steady breathing down the hall. But my eyes found her immediately.

Easter.

She was sitting on the couch, hunched forward, biting her nails. Her wild curls were pulled into a messy knot on top of her head, but loose strands framed her delicate face. That ever-present blush stained her cheeks, but it didn’t make her look adorable this time—it made her look tired. Haunted.

And still so heartbreakingly beautiful.

Her big emerald eyes stared blankly at the floor, lost somewhere I couldn’t follow. Her freckled cheeks were stained with dried tears.

I stood there, frozen.

And then I whispered, "Easter."

She flinched. Her head snapped up.

And before I could brace for whatever pain was about to be thrown my way—before I could apologize, explain, beg—

She ran.

Not away.

To me.

She ran right into me, throwing herself into my arms so fast I barely had time to catch her. Her arms wrapped tight around my waist, and her small body trembled against mine as she buried her face into my chest.

I was stunned.

This... this wasn’t what I’d prepared for. I’d expected her to scream, to cry, to shove me away. To tell me I wasn’t the man she thought I was. That I’d failed her.

But instead, she clung to me like I was her safe haven.

And it made it worse.

My arms slowly came around her. I held her close, burying my nose in her curls, breathing her in—lavender and warm earth. I felt her heart beating fast, out of rhythm, terrified.

"I thought you forgot about me," she whispered into my chest, her voice cracking. "I thought you left me there on purpose... I thought—" Her voice gave out as her sobs took over, raw and quiet, as though she didn’t want to wake her daughter with her heartbreak.

"I didn’t mean to," I whispered, voice tight. "I didn’t mean to, Easter. I would never... I’m so sorry."

She shook her head against me. "It was so quiet, Jacob. And then it wasn’t. There was blood. And bodies. And Rose—she saw some of it. I tried to keep her from looking but she’s smart. I had to lock her in a room so she wouldn’t see anymore."

Tears spilled down my cheeks. "You were scared, and I wasn’t there."

"I called for you," she cried softly. "I waited... I kept thinking, he’ll come. He’ll remember. He’ll come back for me."

"And I didn’t," I choked. "I failed you."

"No," she whispered fiercely, pulling back just enough to look up at me. Her green eyes were filled with tears, but also something else—something I didn’t understand. "You didn’t fail me. You came. You found me. That’s what matters. I just... I needed you."

I reached up and gently touched her cheek. The faint bruise beneath her eye—an echo of pain from a past I’d sworn to never let touch her again—was almost gone. But I still hated that I hadn’t been there fast enough.

Natalie stepped forward, her voice soft. "Easter... I’m sorry. I should’ve controlled my emotions better. I should’ve remembered you were in the house."

Easter turned toward her.

And then, just like with me, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Natalie.

Natalie hugged her back, both of them crying now.

"I thought you both were gone." Easter whispered. "I thought you were never coming back."

Natalie squeezed her tighter. "I would’ve ripped the world apart to get back to you. I promise. I’ll never let anything happen to you again."

They held each other like sisters. Like survivors. And for a moment, the cabin felt full again—not with noise, but with warmth.

I wiped at her glossy eyes.

Tiger stood nearby, watching in silence.

I turned to him. "Thank you," I said, voice hoarse. "For finding her."

"She needed someone," he replied simply. "And so did you."

He wasn’t wrong.

Easter finally stepped back, her shoulders sagging as she wiped her face with trembling fingers. Her cheeks were blotchy, her eyes rimmed with red, still glistening with the last traces of her tears.

"I’m sorry," she mumbled, a little sheepish, her voice barely there. "I didn’t mean to cry all over you."

Without thinking, I said, "You can cry on me anytime you want."

She looked up, startled, as if the words had caught her off guard. Her eyes searched mine, and then—just barely—a faint, fragile smile began to bloom across her lips. Small. Shy. But real.

I cleared my throat, suddenly hyper-aware of how close we were standing, how heavy the moment had become. "Rose... is she okay?"

"She’s sleeping," Easter replied quietly. "I’ve been singing to her. She likes that. She asks about you."

My chest tightened like someone had wrapped a fist around my heart and squeezed. "I’ll make it up to her," I said, and I meant it with every part of me.

But Easter shook her head gently, her voice soft, almost pleading. "You don’t have to make it up. Just... don’t leave again."

"I won’t," I said, my voice barely steady. "Not ever again."

And right as the words left my mouth—like the universe was testing that promise—I heard him.

Sebastian.

His voice cut through space and sound, a desperate cry threading itself straight into my being. I didn’t need a phone. Didn’t need a mind link. I just heard him—like a whispered prayer flung into the night. Panicked. Frantic. In pain.

My soul flinched.

But Easter was still looking at me with that same hopeful gaze, like she was trying to anchor herself to something—someone—real. Her eyes were glassy, her fingers still clutched at the sleeves of her sweater. She was still so shaken. Still so breakable. And if I left her now... if I vanished again, even for the right reasons—I knew it would shatter her.

Torn between two people who needed me in completely different ways, I stood still, locked in that fragile moment.

So I made a choice. I’d wait. Just a little longer. Sebastian was strong—he was a powerful vampire with centuries of willpower forged into his bones. He could hold out. At least, I hoped he could. I needed him to.

I looked back at Easter and gave her a sad, crooked smile—one of those smiles that didn’t quite reach the eyes. Inside, I was begging her to yell at me, to push me away, to give me a reason to go. Something—anything—to make it easier to turn my back.

But she didn’t. She just stood there, eyes wide and quiet, holding onto me like I was something she wasn’t sure how to keep.

And the worst part? I could feel it. Something in her had shifted tonight—subtly, silently—but I felt the tremor in her soul. Something had changed.

And I was terrified to find out what. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com