The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter-Chapter 223: The Stone Beneath My Pillow

Griffin~

The first thing I felt was warmth. Not the scorching heat of the void or the cold silence of the woods where I’d passed out, but real warmth—soft blankets, a plush mattress, the scent of lemon soap and fresh linen. I blinked groggily, eyes squinting against the golden afternoon light spilling through the half-drawn curtains.

I was back in Zane’s house.

I knew this room. The guest room tucked on the second floor. My heart pounded as I sat up slowly, my joints cracking with the effort. No pain. No weakness. In fact... I felt good. Stronger. Rested. The burn that had consumed my limbs in the void was gone, replaced by a strange calm.

I pushed back the covers, glancing down.

Clean clothes. Black joggers and a white shirt—neatly fitted and nothing like what I’d been wearing before. My brows furrowed as I remembered: my jeans. The crystal.

I sat up fast, the sheets rustling around me.

I’d tucked the stone—the glowing green one Shadow had handed me—into the back pocket of my jeans. That much I remembered clearly. But now I was in different clothes.

Which meant someone had changed me.

My heart skipped.

Wait.

Had they seen it?

Panic crawled up my spine. God, I hoped not.

My eyes flicked around the room, sharp and desperate. They froze.

There.

Sitting like it had every right to be there—casual, almost smug—on the nightstand beside a glass of water and a neatly folded towel.

The crystal.

Still glowing, soft and rhythmic, like it had a pulse of its own. Like it was alive.

I lunged for it, fingers trembling as I snatched it up and stuffed it under my pillow like some guilty secret. My breath caught in my throat.

Someone had found it. They must’ve.

Fox? Natalie?

Please, not Natalie.

The idea twisted in my gut. If she’d touched it—if her fingers had brushed against its surface—would it still work? Would it still be potent?

I didn’t know. And that terrified me.

A knock came at the door.

I jerked upright, heart leaping into my throat.

"Yo, ghost boy," Fox’s unmistakable voice called through the door, "you decent, or should I run away screaming?"

I coughed, trying to sound normal. "Come in."

The door creaked open, and in walked Fox with a tray balanced on one hand like a waiter in some fancy celestial restaurant. His hair was pulled back today, but a few golden strands framed his mischievous eyes.

"Look at you," he grinned. "Back from the grave and looking halfway werewolf again."

He set the tray down beside the bed and smirked. The smell of grilled chicken, rice, and roasted vegetables made my stomach growl involuntarily.

"Thanks," I muttered, pushing the pillow casually behind me, hiding the crystal deep inside it.

Fox leaned against the wall, arms folded. "You scared the hell out of her, you know."

I looked up quickly. "Natalie?"

"Yeah, who else?" he snorted. "She saw you collapse in the woods and wouldn’t stop yelling at me to ’stop standing there like a confused statue and do something useful.’"

I almost smiled. Almost.

"Where is she now?" I asked, trying to keep my voice light.

Fox raised an eyebrow, but that smirk of his deepened. "Zane’s around, so naturally, she’s stuck to him like peanut butter on toast."

My jaw tensed, and I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth. "Right."

Fox tilted his head, studying me like he could see right through the mask I was trying to wear.

"Well," he said at last, pushing off the wall, "enjoy the food. Try not to pass out again. We’re fresh out of celestial rescue missions."

I forced a chuckle. "Thanks, Fox."

He nodded and left, leaving the door slightly ajar.

I stared at the tray for a long moment but couldn’t eat. I wasn’t hungry anymore. Not for food.

*******

That night, I didn’t sleep with peace.

I slept with hope.

A fragile, reckless kind of hope—that the stone under my pillow, that cursed, glowing thing, was actually doing what Shadow promised. That maybe—just maybe—it was chipping away at the bond between Natalie and Zane.

That maybe she’d remember me.

Want me.

See me as her mate again.

So I closed my eyes, clinging to that hope.

And woke in the dark.

Pitch black. Silent. Endless void.

Again.

"Why am I here?" I shouted into the void, spinning, heart pounding. My voice echoed like it had a thousand miles to travel before anyone might hear.

"Did it work?" I yelled. "Is it breaking their bond?!"

Laughter answered.

Low. Sharp. Cruel.

Familiar.

"Still so desperate. So tragically naïve," Shadow’s voice oozed from every corner of the nothing. "You really are a fool, Griffin Blackthorn."

My pulse spiked. "What the hell are you talking about? You said the stone would help me! That it would—"

"Break their bond? Bring her back to you?" Shadow cut in, his voice like velvet soaked in venom. "You poor thing. You believed that?"

I went still. Frozen.

"You said—"

"I said what you needed to hear," he said, amused. "Because I needed someone dumb enough, broken enough, to carry the soul sucker into their sanctuary. Someone close to the celestial siblings. Someone they’d never suspect."

I stumbled back, the void swaying like a stormy sea around me. "The... soul sucker? What the hell does that even mean?"

He chuckled, a wicked sound stretching across the darkness. "It’s the name of the stone, genius."

"Kalmia," he whispered, now trembling with delight. "She’s nearly ready. Soon, her essence will be inside the divine vessel. Inside Natalie. And when she rises, I’ll take Zane."

The words cracked something deep inside me.

"No..." My voice was barely there. "No. Take me instead. Please. My body, my soul—just leave her out of this!"

I dropped to my knees in the emptiness, tears burning down my face.

"Take me. Not her. Please."

Shadow laughed again—cold, delighted, final.

"Your body is frail. Your soul... forgettable. You were never a vessel, Griffin. You were just a pawn."

My stomach twisted. My hands shook.

"You used me."

"I forged your death," he whispered, voice now a blade at my throat. "That mark they saw on your heart? My doing. I knew they’d never leave behind someone touched by the darkness. Especially Natalie. I knew she was soft hearted. I knew she’d bring you back. And now... you’ll be her undoing."

My chest heaved. "No..."

"And one more thing," Shadow added with a mockingly gentle tone. "Keep this secret. Or if a single word escapes your lips..."

He paused, then hissed, "You’ll bleed from your lungs until the last breath leaves your body."

I opened my mouth—to scream, to curse, to spit in his face—

But I woke up.

Gasping.

My throat seared with heat, like fire had clawed its way up from my chest. I gagged—something warm and thick filled my mouth.

Blood.

I staggered out of bed, choking, crimson streaming from my lips. My hands were slick with it as I stumbled into the hallway, leaving streaks on the walls as I dragged myself forward.

Then I heard her.

Natalie.

Laughing.

Gods, that sound. That beautiful, haunting laugh.

I followed it, dizzy and blind, vision swimming. My feet carried me like a ghost down the hall, past the staircase, toward the dining room.

And there she was.

Seated at the long mahogany table. Laughing. Smiling. Radiant.

Natalie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear—the way she always did when she was either nervous or quietly happy. A subtle habit, but unmistakably her. Across from her, Alexander sat, grinning. At the head of the table was Zane, his eyes locked on her like she was made of starlight—silent, intense, almost reverent.

"Griffin’s not down yet?" Natalie asked, her voice cutting through the quiet hum of morning chatter. She glanced toward the hallway with a furrowed brow.

Fox shook his head, arms crossed. "He’s probably still knocked out from yesterday. Can’t blame him."

Natalie let out a soft sigh, the kind that carried equal parts concern and guilt.

"I’ll go check," she said, already shifting in her seat.

"I got it," Fox said, standing up before she could. "Maybe the guy just needs a motivational kick in the—"

He never got to finish that sentence.

Because that’s when I stumbled in.

And the whole room fell silent.

All eyes snapped to me. Every breath seemed to freeze midair.

Of course they did. I was soaked in blood.

"Griffin?" Natalie breathed, her voice a tiny whisper.

I tried to speak. Really, I did.

But all that came out was a wet, broken gurgle.

Then everything faded to black.