The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter

Chapter 288: Friend or Foe?

Easter~

The hotel room smelled like cheap lemon spray trying to mask years of stale carpet and old cigarette smoke. Sunlight slipped through the thick curtains, laying golden stripes across the scratched wooden table where I sat with Rose. She was busy making a mess of her oatmeal, her tiny hands clumsy as she smeared it across her cheeks. She giggled, her bright eyes shining with that early-morning joy only a four-year-old could have. As for Donut, he lounged on the windowsill, flicking his tail lazily as he soaked up the warmth.

I’d brought us here—to this rundown place on the edge of town—just to breathe. To think. To find a sliver of clarity in the fog that had settled over my mind and heart since those unexplainable memories started haunting me. "Just a few days," I’d told myself. Time to figure out what to do next. But as I sat there that morning, nothing about my thoughts felt clear.

I was cutting an apple for Rose, the knife’s blunt edge squeaking across the skin, when a sudden pain stabbed deep into my head. I sucked in a sharp breath and dropped the knife, its clatter echoing off the walls. The room tilted around me, and I clutched the table, my knuckles ached with strain. Rose froze mid-bite, oatmeal dripping from her spoon onto her unicorn pajamas. "Mommy?" she said softly, her little eyebrows drawing together.

"I’m okay, baby," I whispered, forcing a smile that felt brittle on my lips. But I wasn’t okay. The pain throbbed behind my eyes, blinding me, and then the memories hit again—harder this time. They didn’t feel like mine, couldn’t be mine, but they flooded in with such brutal clarity I could almost taste the blood in the air.

I saw Jacob. His warm brown eyes were cold and wild, his hands—those same hands that had handed me a stuffed teddy bear just yesterday at the mall—were dripping red. Bodies lay all around him, twisted and torn like broken dolls, their empty eyes staring up at a sky I couldn’t see. My stomach lurched, bile rising in my throat as the memory sharpened. Jacob turned towards me, and there was no hint of kindness in his eyes, no softness—just a predator’s hunger.

I saw myself running, Rose’s small hand tight in mine, her screams tearing through the darkness as we fled. How had we escaped? The memory blurred at the edges, leaving only the terror behind and the weird certainty that he was coming for us.

I pressed my palms to my temples, fighting to block out the images. They couldn’t be real. Jacob wasn’t like that. He was the quiet man who’d moved in across the street, the one who’d rubbed my aching feet when I was too tired to walk another step, who made Rose laugh with silly faces while driving her to school. He was kind—so effortlessly kind—with his messy black curls and that gentle strength that made my chest ache every time he looked at me. I’d tried to push those feelings down, telling myself that someone like him could never want someone like me, someone cracked and bruised by life.

But these memories... they felt like fragments of a nightmare I’d actually lived through. Was it real? Was he hunting us all along?

"Mommy, you’re shaking," Rose said, climbing into my lap. Her sticky fingers brushed my cheek, and I realized tears were streaming down my face. I hugged her tightly, her warmth grounding me, but my heart wouldn’t stop racing. Donut leapt onto the table, his blue eyes narrowing as he nudged my hand, purring like he could sense my panic.

"I’m okay, Rosie," I whispered, kissing her forehead. "Just a headache." But it wasn’t just a headache. It was a warning, a scream from some part of me I didn’t understand. I glanced at the door, half-expecting to see Jacob’s shadow looming through the frosted glass. I’d chosen this hotel because it was far from home, far from him. How could he know we were here? There was absolutely no way for him to know. Unless... unless the memories were true.

A sharp knock rattled the door, and I froze, my breath catching in my throat. Rose’s head snapped up, her face lighting up like a sunrise. "Daddy Jacob! He came mommy. I told you he’ll find us!" she squealed, scrambling off my lap and racing toward the door, her bare feet slapping against the carpet.

"Rose, no!" I snapped, my voice trembling with sudden panic. My heart dropped like a stone in my chest. Daddy Jacob? Why was she so sure it was him? She’d only known him for a few weeks. I’d brushed off her talk about him knowing me, knowing us, as little-girl daydreams and bedtime stories spun from her bright imagination.

But now, with those memories tearing at my mind, her words felt like a slap of truth I hadn’t wanted to face. Like a secret I’d been too desperate, too blind, to see.

"Rosie, come back here," I said, my voice trembling as I stood, my legs wobbly beneath me. I grabbed her arm gently, pulling her behind me. "Stay there, okay? Let Mommy check who it is."

"But it’s Daddy Jacob!" she protested, her lower lip jutting out. "He always comes for us!"

"Rose, please," I whispered, my eyes darting to the door as another knock came, louder this time. My pulse thundered in my ears, and I could feel the ghost of those memories—Jacob’s bloodied hands, his predatory stare—pressing against my skull. I crept toward the door, my bare feet silent on the carpet, my hand shaking as I reached for the peephole. What if it was him? What if he’d found us? I pressed my eye to the glass, my breath hitching.

"Easter?" Jacob’s voice came through the door, soft but urgent, laced with that warmth that always made my chest ache. "Easter, it’s me. Are you okay? Rose, you in there, kiddo?"

"Daddy Jacob!" Rose squealed again, tugging at my hand. "Let him in, Mommy! He’s nice!"

I stumbled back, my heart a wild thing in my chest. How did he find us? The hotel was miles from home, a random choice made in the middle of the night. My mind spun, the memories clashing with the Jacob I thought I knew—the one who’d sat on a bench by my side, laughing as Rose chased other kids around the playground, the one whose eyes lingered on me just a second too long, making my cheeks burn. That Jacob wasn’t a killer. He couldn’t be. But the images in my head were so real, so visceral, I could still smell the blood.

"Easter, please," Jacob called again, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "I know you’re scared. I can explain everything. Just... open the door. I’m not here to hurt you."

"Mommy, why’re you scared?" Rose asked, her big eyes searching mine. "It’s just Jacob. He’s our friend."

I knelt in front of her, my hands cupping her face, my thumbs brushing over her chubby cheeks. "Rosie, listen to me," I said, my voice low and urgent. "Did Jacob ever... did he ever do anything that made you feel scared? Did he ever hurt you?" noveldrama

She shook her head, her curls bouncing. "No, Mommy. He tells me stories about wolves and magic. He says I’m brave like a wolf cub. He’s nice, I promise!"

Her words twisted the knife in my chest. I wanted to believe her, to cling to the image of Jacob as the kind, gentle man who liked us. But those memories—those horrible, blood-soaked memories—wouldn’t let go. I stood, my legs trembling, and faced the door. Another knock, softer this time, like he was afraid of startling me.

"Easter, I know something’s wrong," Jacob said, his voice muffled but steady. "I can feel it. Please, just talk to me. I’m not going anywhere until I know you and Rose are safe."

Safe. The word felt like a cruel joke. I pressed my hand to my stomach, where the faint flutter of my unborn child reminded me of the stakes. I couldn’t run forever, not with Rose, not with a baby on the way. But if Jacob was the monster in my memories, what choice did I have?

"Mommy, open the door!" Rose tugged at my sleeve, her voice insistent. Donut meowed loudly, as if in agreement, his tail swishing like a metronome.

I took a deep breath, my hand hovering over the doorknob. My heart screamed to run, to grab Rose and flee, but my gut—my stupid, traitorous gut—whispered that Jacob’s voice held no threat, only worry. I glanced at Rose, her eyes wide with trust, and then back at the door. Could I trust him? Could I trust myself?

"Jacob," I called, my voice cracking. "How... how did you find us?"

There was a pause, heavy and thick, before he answered. "Easter, I swear, it’s not what you think. Can I come in? I’ll explain everything. I promise, I’d never hurt you or Rose."

My fingers brushed the lock, trembling. The memories roared in my mind, but so did Rose’s laughter, Jacob’s smile, the warmth of his presence. I didn’t know what was real anymore. But I had to find out.