The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter-Chapter 95: Watch Out!

Sebastian~

I had never felt frustration this deep, this consuming. It gnawed at my patience, coiling like a tight spring in my chest, ready to snap at any moment.

It was nearly 10:00 p.m. The city was quiet, but my mind was anything but. I had spent hours running around with Zane, searching for any trace of Brielle or Griffin. Every lead turned to dust in my hands, every alley we checked, every call we made—nothing.

Now, back at Zane’s house again, exhaustion was evident on his face. "I hate this," Zane muttered, voice muffled. "I hate waiting. I hate chasing people. And I really hate being this damn tired."

He lay sprawled on the sofa and closed his eyes but not asleep, one arm draped over his forehead. His suit jacket was long discarded, his black shirt rumpled—a rare sight for the ever-composed Zane.

Tiger and Fox were nowhere to be found, which was unsettling. They were always nearby, lurking like silent shadows, but today, when I needed them, they had vanished without a word. The guards, however, remained stationed at every entrance, their presence a reminder that the house was under constant surveillance.

As for me? I had refused to sit still.

Griffin’s number had been my obsession, my fingers dialing over and over, each call met with dead silence. But I wasn’t stopping. Not now. Not when I was this close.

I pressed the call button again, pacing near the window. The phone rang once. Twice.

Then—

A click.

"Sebastian."

My heart slammed against my ribs. He picked up.

"Griffin," I breathed, gripping the phone like a lifeline. "Where the hell have you been?"

A brief pause. Then, his voice, low and unreadable. "I’m at Starview Hotel."

I stilled. Starview?

"I’m here with Brielle," Griffin continued. "Come. Now."

I didn’t hesitate. I ended the call before he could say another word.

"She’s there," I muttered, shoving my phone into my pocket. A rush of energy pulsed through me, adrenaline taking over my exhaustion. "She’s at Starview with Griffin."

Zane didn’t move from the couch. He merely opened one eye, regarding me with that unreadable, borderline-annoyed expression he always wore when he thought I was being reckless.

"Hmm," he hummed.

I didn’t have time for his cryptic nonsense.

"I need to go," I said, already grabbing my coat. "I need to see her."

That’s when Zane sat up. Slowly. Too slowly. His sharp gaze locked onto me like a predator sizing up its prey.

"That’s it?" he said, voice deceptively calm. "He just... called you out of nowhere?"

I frowned, yanking my sleeve into place. "No. I called him. He answered."

Zane exhaled, standing to his full height, adjusting his cuffs like he had all the time in the world. "And that doesn’t seem a little off to you?"

I clenched my jaw. "Zane—"

"I mean," he cut in, stepping closer, "you’ve been calling him all damn day. And now, after hours of silence, he finally picks up?" He tilted his head. "And just so happens to be waiting for you at a random hotel with your missing mate?"

I opened my mouth, then closed it.

When he put it that way...

No. I shook my head, clearing the doubt. "You’re overthinking this. He’s with Brielle. That’s all that matters."

Zane’s lips curled into something between a smirk and a sigh. "Right. Of course. Because that makes so much sense."

I threw my hands up. "Zane, I don’t have time for your paranoia. I’m going."

"I didn’t say you weren’t."

I turned to leave. Zane’s voice followed me.

"I’m coming with you."

I froze. "What? But your tired."

"I said—" He walked past me, grabbing his own coat. "—I’m coming with you."

"No." I shook my head. "I can handle this on my own."

Zane buttoned his coat. "Sure, you could. But you won’t."

"Zane—"

"Sebastian," he cut in smoothly, his eyes dark, sharp. "I let you run around the city all day, chasing ghosts. But this? This stinks of a setup."

I clenched my fists. "I need to see her."

"And you will," he said, adjusting his collar. "But you’re not going alone."

I let out a frustrated breath. "Fine."

Zane smirked. "Good boy."

I flipped him off.

********

The hardest part wasn’t the drive to Starview Hotel. Wasn’t even the creeping paranoia gnawing at my gut.

No.

The hardest part was sneaking out of Zane’s own damn house like we were fugitives.

Zane, a literal prince, rolled his eyes as we crouched near the back entrance. "This is so stupid. This is my house. I should be able to leave whenever I want."

I smirked. "But you can’t. Because you have ten overprotective bodyguards who would tackle your ass if they saw you sneaking out."

He scowled. "I never asked for them."

"Yeah, yeah, rich-boy problems," I whispered as I peeked around the corner. Two guards stood near the main gate, chatting quietly. "Alright, we go now."

Zane and I darted past the garden, keeping low. We barely made it to the car without triggering an alarm. Zane slid into the driver’s seat, grumbling.

"This is ridiculous."

"You love the thrill," I teased.

Zane just muttered something about how he was going to fire everyone when we got back.

Yeah right. As if that was possible.

We arrived at Starview in record time.

The moment we stepped inside, my senses went on high alert. The hotel lobby was too quiet, too empty. Even at this hour, there should have been some kind of life—receptionists, late-night guests, staff moving about.

But there was no one.

A chill crawled up my spine.

Zane exhaled through his nose. "Well. That’s not unsettling at all."

I ignored him, moving toward the elevator. My pulse quickened with every step.

I needed to see her.

We took the private elevator straight to the penthouse.

Ding.

The doors slid open.

I barely raised my fist to knock when—

The door swung open.

I froze.

Brielle stood there.

She looked—perfectly fine. No bruises. No signs of distress. Nothing.

And yet—

Something was wrong.

Her expression was too calm. Her smile was too smooth.

"Sebastian," she greeted softly. "Cole."

A lump lodged in my throat. I had been desperate to see her all day, but now—standing here, staring into her too-bright eyes—I hesitated.

Zane stood stiffly beside me. He wasn’t saying anything, but I felt his unease.

Brielle stepped aside. "Come in."

The moment we crossed the threshold, the door clicked shut behind us.

And I swore I heard the sound of a lock sliding into place.

A chill crept up my spine.

Something wasn’t right.

But it was too late to turn back now.

I had barely taken a step inside when I locked eyes with Brielle again.

I didn’t think—I just moved.

"Why did you run from me?" I demanded, my voice rough with frustration and something deeper—something raw.

She stood there, perfectly poised, her long dark hair falling over one shoulder, her lips curved into a small, unreadable smile. But her eyes—something was off in her eyes. Too bright. Too calm.

"Brielle," I continued, stepping closer, my pulse hammering. "I know you felt it. When we saw each other. I know you felt what I felt—"

She didn’t answer.

Silence stretched between.

I took another step, my heart racing, the need to understand clawing at me. "Talk to me. Please. You don’t have to run. I—"

"Sebastian, watch out!"

Zane’s voice ripped through the air, sharp as a gunshot.

Before I could even process what was happening, Brielle moved.

Fast.

Too fast.

Her hand shot up, a gleam of wood flashing under the chandelier light.

A wooden stake.

Time slowed. My brain struggled to catch up, to understand.

She was trying to kill me.

She lunged, her grip on the stake firm, her movements deliberate. There was no hesitation, no flicker of regret in her expression.

Only cold determination.

For the first time in centuries, real fear licked up my spine. Not because of the stake—but because it was her.

My Brielle.

Or at least, the woman I thought she was.

A snarl ripped from my throat as I stumbled back, but the room was too small, and she was too close—

A sudden rush of heat.

A blur of red and gold.

Then there was fire.

A wall of flames erupted between us, crackling violently, swallowing the stake before it could touch me.

Fox.

He had appeared out of nowhere. He stood between me and Brielle, his fiery red hair looking almost ablaze in the flickering glow. His golden eyes locked onto Brielle’s with a look of pure amusement.

"Whoa there, sweetheart," Fox drawled, tilting his head, the stake now a pile of ashes at his feet. "That’s no way to greet a guest."