The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter-Chapter 271: The Gathering

Natalie~

The king was up to something. I could feel it in the way the air seemed to hum with quiet secrets, wrapping around the palace walls like an invisible fog. It wasn’t just a passing thought – it was a certainty thrumming deep in my bones, and Jasmine growled in agreement from where she paced restlessly inside me.

I followed the two women out of Zane’s suite, my bare feet padding softly against the marble floor. As I walked behind them, I couldn’t stop the quiet smile spreading across my face. Inside, I felt so light and warm, almost giddy, because Zane wasn’t angry at me or sad anymore. We’d cleared up the secret between us, and knowing that he still loved me, needed me, and wasn’t hurting because of me made my heart soar like I’d grown wings. The women walked briskly ahead, their matching navy uniforms swishing with each step, their hair tied in neat buns that bobbed slightly. Every few seconds, one would glance back to make sure I was still following them, as if I might slip away like a shadow.

When we reached my room, they opened the heavy carved doors and ushered me inside like I was some royal guest. Honestly, it still felt strange seeing my name engraved on the golden plaque outside. Princess Natalie. The words sent a weird flutter down my chest every time.

"Your Highness," one of the women said, bowing low. "Please allow us to prepare you for today’s royal gathering."

"Royal gathering?" I echoed, blinking in confusion. My voice sounded too casual for the silk-draped room. "What for?"

"We do not know, Your Highness," the second woman replied, her face smooth like polished stone. "But His Majesty specifically requested this gown for you."

She gestured towards the massive dressing mannequin by the window, and my mouth almost fell open. Draped elegantly over its white torso was the largest, puffiest gown I’d ever seen. The bodice sparkled with silver threads woven into delicate vines, and the skirt billowed out like a giant marshmallow cloud, layered with embroidered chiffon petals.

"Uh..." I scratched the back of my neck. "That’s...um...beautiful."

"Beautifully torturous," Jasmine growled in my head. "How do they expect us to fight in that thing?"

"We’re not fighting anyone," I told her as the women began to unbutton my robe. "It’s just a gathering."

"We better not need to fight," Jasmine muttered. "Because I’ll trip on that dress and die of humiliation before an enemy’s claws even reach us."

I bit my lip to keep from laughing out loud. The women would think I’d lost my mind.

They dressed me quickly but delicately, layering soft under-skirts beneath the gown and tying the corset so tightly I could barely breathe. One woman began curling my hair with hot iron tongs while the other dusted shimmering powder across my shoulders and collarbones.

"You look like a queen, Your Highness," one of them said softly, smiling at me through the mirror.

"Thanks..." I replied, shifting uncomfortably as the corset dug into my ribs. My reflection looked...different. Regal. Powerful. Like someone who could command armies and shatter hearts with a flick of her wrist.

But under all that elegance, I felt suffocated. fгeewёbnoѵel_cσm

Memories of my old life flickered behind my eyes – of being dressed up by omega maids who always whispered gossip about my hair or weight; of walking stiffly into pack ceremonies where every man’s gaze would burn into my skin with longing and high praise. Back then, I loved looking beautiful, believing it made me extremely powerful.

Now, after everything with Darius, beauty felt like another cage.

I sighed deeply, feeling Jasmine huff in annoyance as the women placed a sparkling silver tiara atop my curls.

"Ugh," Jasmine snarled. "Tell them to get this off me before I rip it to shreds."

"Please behave," I chided her gently, even though I agreed. "We don’t want to look like ungrateful brats."

"Fine," she growled. "But the moment we’re done with this nonsense, we’re ripping it off."

Once they were done, I stood up gingerly, feeling the weight of the gown tug at my waist. The corset pinched with every breath. My thighs ached from how wide I had to walk to avoid tripping on the layered skirts.

"You look exquisite, Princess," one of the women said, her voice filled with genuine awe.

I forced a small smile. "Thank you."

But inside, my mind was a raging storm. Thoughts of my talk with Zane crashed into memories of Alex, then twisted into worries about my unborn baby. And Kalmia... she was still out there somewhere, slithering like a snake through tall grass, waiting to strike.

There was so much I needed to handle before I could finally breathe easy. And now this gathering...

"I don’t have time for royal drama," I whispered internally.

"Neither do I," Jasmine grumbled. "Let’s just get this over with so we can go back to cuddling Zane."

"Your Highness?" one woman said softly. "Shall we escort you to the throne room now?"

I nodded, lifting the hem of my gown slightly so I wouldn’t trip over it. They fell into step behind me, walking a few paces back like silent shadows.

The palace corridors were eerily quiet as we made our way down the grand staircase, my gown trailing behind me like a comet tail. I tried to focus on breathing through the corset’s squeeze, but halfway down the hallway, something felt wrong.

A sharp, coppery scent burned my nose.

Blood.

Jasmine perked up instantly, her hackles rising. "Something’s wrong."

I rounded the corner and froze. Three royal guards lay sprawled on the floor. Two were completely still, their eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. The third was gasping, clutching his stomach where blood pooled out, staining his uniform crimson.

"Oh my goddess..." one of the women whispered in horror. The other let out a piercing scream that echoed through the hallway.

I didn’t scream. My entire body moved on instinct as I rushed over and knelt beside the dying guard.

"Hey, hey," I said urgently, pressing my hands to his wound. "Stay with me. Who did this to you?"

His bloodshot eyes rolled weakly towards me, his chest rattling with every labored breath. "Strange...people...broke...in...dark magic...princess...protect...them..."

He coughed violently, blood dribbling down his chin.

"Shh, don’t speak anymore." I pressed my palms firmly over his wound and closed my eyes. Warmth pooled from my chest down my arms, gathering into my hands. Silver light began to glow faintly from my skin.

The women behind me gasped as they watched. I didn’t care. All I cared about was saving this man.

"Jasmine, help me," I whispered internally.

"With pleasure," she replied, her voice like thunder in my veins.

A blast of power surged through me. The guard’s wound closed under my touch, the blood evaporating as his skin knitted back together seamlessly. His breathing steadied, and he blinked up at me with tearful gratitude.

But I wasn’t done.

I turned to the two fallen guards. Their souls still hovered close to their bodies, flickering dimly. Without thinking, I pressed my hands to each of their chests and poured my power into them.

"Come back," I commanded softly.

Light flashed around us. Their bodies jolted violently, and within seconds, their chests rose with breath again. Their eyes fluttered open in shock, confusion filling their expressions.

I didn’t wait for thanks. I stood up swiftly, nearly tripping over my skirts as I whirled around.

"Stay here," I told the women firmly. "Make sure they’re okay."

"Princess—!" one tried to protest, but I was already half-running down the hall, my gown billowing and tugging at my waist with every stride.

"This damn dress," Jasmine snarled. "Rip it off and let’s move properly!"

"We can’t disrespect the king or the women who dressed us," I argued, my breath coming out ragged. "Just bear with it for now."

I kept running, clutching the skirts up in fistfuls, my legs burning from exertion. But halfway down the next hallway, I stopped abruptly, panting hard.

"Wait...why am I running?"

"Good question," Jasmine huffed. "Use your brain, Mara."

I closed my eyes, reaching out with my senses. Immediately, I felt Zane’s powerful essence pulsing like a burning star, and little Alexander’s lighter, sparkling essence right beside him. Relief flooded through me. They were together.

I gripped their essences tightly and whispered, "Take me to them."

The world blurred. Wind roared in my ears as light swallowed my vision.

When I opened my eyes again, I was standing in the throne room.

But what I saw made my knees nearly buckle.

Zane sat tall and regal in his ceremonial attire, his blonde hair combed perfectly, his sharp gaze burning into mine with relief and confusion. Alexander sat beside him in a miniature version of Zane’s tunic, swinging his little legs happily, oblivious to the tension around him.

And there, on the golden podium, sat the king himself, adorned in white and gold robes, his eyes crinkling in amused satisfaction as he stared at me.

But what stole my breath were the hundreds of people seated in rows upon rows of ornamented chairs, all staring at me in stunned silence. Their faces were a mix of curiosity, awe, confusion, and shock.

My cheeks flushed hotly as I realized I must look like a runaway bride who’d just teleported into a wedding she wasn’t invited to.

"Well...this is awkward," Jasmine muttered dryly.

I swallowed thickly, my chest rising and falling rapidly against the tight corset.

And as I stood there under the hundreds of eyes, my gown glittering like a starburst, I had only one thought in my mind:

What in the name of my mother is going on here?

This 𝓬ontent is taken from fre𝒆webnove(l).𝐜𝐨𝗺