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17kNovel > The Lycan King's Second Chance Mate: Rise of the Traitor's Daughter > Chapter 303: Crowns and Chaos

Chapter 303: Crowns and Chaos

    <h4>Chapter 303: Crowns and Chaos</h4>


    <strong>Natalie~</strong>


    I touched down in Zane’s room in a soft whirl of wind and light, the kind that always stirred the curtains and made papers flutter like startled birds. The air shimmered for a second, catching the edges of the glow I left behind. And just like that, I was there.


    Jasmine’sughter rang in my mind, airy and unpredictable, like wind chimes on a wild breeze.


    "You better pray Jacob can handle whatever’s going on with Easter," she teased, her voice dancing with amusement. "Otherwise, he’s screwed. I still can’t believe it—our all-powerful, mysterious big brother Mist actually has a mate now! Like, seriously? The Wolf Spirit himself? Mother loves making her children gopletely crazy with her matchmaking skills. Jacob has finally been caught in her web."


    She cracked up, and I couldn’t hold it in either. Iughed hard, the kind that shook your chest and made you forget you’d just teleported halfway across the world.


    But I didn’t even get a full breath in before I was grabbed—two strong arms swept around me and pulled me clean off the floor like I weighed nothing. I let out a surprised yelp, halfughing, half-shouting, iling just a little before realizing who it was.


    "Zane!" I gasped, my grin stretching wider. "Put me down!"


    He didn’t. Of course not.


    "My baby! I missed you," Zane murmured into my hair, his voice rough, breath warm against my neck. "You’ve been gone all day, Natalie."


    My hands instinctively gripped his shoulders, burying my face into his chest. "I’m sorry," I whispered, my voice muffled against him. "I didn’t even realize how much time had passed..."


    Zane didn’t let go. His embrace tightened instead, like he was grounding himself with me.


    "I thought you were mad at me," I said quietly. "For leaving the way I did... so suddenly."


    There was a pause—one of those warm, heavy silences where you can feel the other person thinking. Then I felt his lips press gently against my temple, a quiet reassurance that settled something inside me.


    "Mad?" he murmured, his voice low and honest. "Not even close."


    He let out a breath, half-sigh, halfugh. "But I did call Sebastian for backup because everything around here went straight to chaos the minute you left. Three meetings back to back, and I nearly ripped Sebastian’s head off—twice."


    I snorted, the tension breaking a little. "Twice?"


    "Twice," he said, dead serious but with that yful spark in his eyes. "That idiot had the nerve to ask if I was sulking because my mate finally figured out I wasn’t worth the trouble—and bolted."


    I burst outughing, loud and unfiltered. "No way. Did he make it out alive?"


    Zane grinned, pulling back just enough to meet my gaze, mischief dancing across his face.


    "Oh, he survived," he said, smirking. "Barely."


    And then he kissed me.


    Gods, it was the kind of kiss that melted years of trauma in a single breath. Slow and deep, his lips moved against mine like he had all the time in the world, like nothing outside that moment mattered.


    Jasmine sighed dreamily in my head. "Finally. I thought we were going to die kissless."


    I kissed him again—because I could. Because he was mine. And because I was his.


    Zane broke away with a quiet groan, resting his forehead against mine. "As much as I’d rather keep kissing you until sunrise, your personal maids have been losing their minds looking for you."


    I blinked. "What? Why?"


    Zane gave me a sheepish grin. "Apparently something about final fittings for your wedding gown? And... I quote—’if Princess Natalie doesn’t try on her dress today, the stitches will rebel.’"


    I groaned and dropped my head against his chest. "Ughhh. Kill me now."


    Jasmine snorted. "Same."


    Zaneughed. "You knew what you signed up for, my love. Royal weddingse with royal chaos."


    "I wanted a backyard wedding," I muttered dramatically. "With pie instead of cake. Just me, you, and Alex in matching pajamas."


    Zane chuckled, wrapping his arms around me again. "Same. But we both know that’s impossible. I’m literally a Prince. You’re the most powerful werewolf/ princess this kingdom has ever seen. And apparently, your wolf has a fan club."


    Jasmine perked up. "I do? Wait, I want merch. I want stickers."


    Before I could respond, the soft chime of the room’s inte echoed through the space.


    Zane pressed a button by the wall. "Who is it?"


    A nervous voice filtered through. "Um... Your Highness, sir? Is... is Her Highness, Princess Natalie with you?"


    I sighed and kissed Zane onest time before stepping away. "Duty calls."


    He gave me a look that said I’ll be counting the seconds, and I smiled before walking out the door.


    The maid—her name was May, if I remembered right—was practically vibrating with relief when she saw me. "Thank the moon!" she gasped. "We thought you’d eloped or turned into a squirrel or something!"


    "Why a squirrel?"


    "I don’t know, Your Highness, magic is weird!" she said, flustered. "Please, we need you in the fitting room, like, now."


    I followed her down the hallway, letting her drag me through a maze of polished marble corridors, winding staircases, and past dozens of fluttering maids who all stared at me like I was some wild bird that finally returned to its cage.


    Then we reached The Room.


    It looked like a couture explosion—bolts of white silk, glittering beads,ce spread across tables like snowdrifts. The royal tailor, an older woman with sharp eyes and a sharper tongue, was already motioning me toward a dais at the center.


    "There she is!" she barked. "Get her into the gown. We’re two days out, people, and the moon waits for no one!"


    I didn’t even have time to protest before I was being stripped, fluffed, and zipped into something that felt like it weighed more than a small horse.


    And then I saw myself in the mirror.


    "...Oh."


    The dress shimmered like starlight. Pure white silk hugged my figure, embroidered with delicate silver vines that crawled up the bodice and curled around my shoulders. The train flowed behind me like a waterfall, and tiny diamonds caught the light like dew on morning leaves.


    Now I understand why Eagle hated this dress.


    "You look like a queen," one of the younger maids whispered.


    I turned, lifting my arm slowly, the fabric sliding like water. I looked... unreal. Elegant. Magical.


    And yet—


    "I feel like I’m suffocating," I whispered.


    The tailor nced up. "It’s tradition."


    "There’s also a crown," May added cheerfully, holding up a silver circlet embedded with diamonds. "With a matching veil."


    "Oh joy," I muttered.


    "Jasmine?"


    "Tell them I’ll wear the crown if they also give me a sword. A big one. With mes."


    I choked on augh.


    Eventually, I was allowed to step down, and with a thousand pins still in my hair, I changed out of the dress and fled the room like a hunted rabbit.


    I needed air.


    I needed him.


    When I found Zane again, he was in the throne room with the King, both of them deep in discussion with a woman who looked like a walking calendar—clipboard, pen, sses, tight bun. The Royal Wedding nner.


    "Your Highness!" she greeted brightly, the way people greet natural disasters. "Perfect timing. I was just informing the prince and his father about the parade."


    "The what?" I asked, stepping closer to Zane, who immediately reached for my hand.


    She smiled like she was handing me a prize. "The parade! It’s tradition for the royal couple to announce their wedding to the kingdom personally. In a golden carriage. Surrounded by guards, petals, and—well, you’ll see. It’s happening in two hours!"


    Zane and I turned to each other at the same time.


    We groaned in perfect sync.


    King Anderson snorted behind his wine goblet. "Ah, young love and royal obligation."


    Zane leaned closer to me and whispered, "Run away with me. Right now. We’ll escape through the kitchens."


    "Tempting," I whispered back, then sighed. "But Alex will probably rat us out for extra dessert."


    "Betrayed by our own child," he said solemnly.


    Minutester, we were whisked away again—separated into dressing rooms, pampered, fluffed, perfumed. My new gown was an elegant deep blue, the exact shade of twilight, while Zane was dressed in a regal ck suit with silver embroidery that made him look even more like the prince he refused to admit he was.


    When we reunited in front of the pce gates, the carriage was waiting.


    It sparkled.


    I mean, literally sparkled. There were actual gemstones in the wheels. The horses wore silver ribbons. People had already gathered beyond the golden gates, cheering and waving little gs with our faces on them.


    Zane looked at me and groaned. "Why is my face everywhere?"


    "Because your face is ridiculous," I said, smirking.


    "Yours is too perfect. You’re going to break someone’s heart just by waving."


    We stepped into the carriage, hand in hand. As the horses began to pull us forward, cheers erupted from the crowd. Flower petals rained down like confetti from the skies. People were crying,ughing, waving gifts and babies and banners.


    I took a breath and leaned into Zane’s side.


    "This is... a lot," I breathed, trying to take it all in.


    "It is," he nodded, his voice calm but certain. "But it’s us. We’re really here. We’re doing this. And with any luck, Sebastian’s not somewhere in that crowd—because if he is, I’ll never hear the end of it." He let out a dramatic sigh, and I couldn’t help butugh.


    Then I looked at him—really looked at him.


    The man who found me when I was lost.


    Who held me when I was breaking.


    Who made me believe that happiness wasn’t just a memory, but something I could reach for again.


    "I love you, Zane."


    He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulled me in for a kiss—short, sweet, but brimming with everything he felt.


    Then he whispered, "I love you more, Natalie Cross."


    And in that moment, beneath the weight of diamonds and tradition and thunderous apuse, I didn’t feel like the girl who had been broken, rejected, and betrayed.


    I felt like a queen.


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