A Dangerous Obsession
Chapter 104 - 18+ - 103

Chapter 104: 18+ Chapter 103

I couldn’t sleep.

Not even for a second.

The moon had long since set, and dawn had painted the sky in muted hues, but I had remained wide awake, staring at the ceiling of my chambers, my thoughts a tangled mess.

Now, I stood in his study once again, the very air within these walls thick with the scent of burning wood and old parchment.

My hands were clasped behind my back, my spine straight, my expression schooled into calm indifference. But beneath it all, I was falling apart.

My father sat at his desk, his piercing gaze unreadable as he regarded me.

"You did well in the tournament," he said, his tone measured, firm. "The pack was impressed."

I inclined my head slightly, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Thank you, Father."

He leaned back in his chair, studying me as if calculating something. The flickering candlelight cast sharp shadows across his face, making the lines of his features even more severe.

"But strength alone is not enough to lead."

I held my breath.

"There is something that must be done."

Silence stretched between us, thick, pressing.

My brows furrowed slightly, my pulse quickening.

My father’s gaze never wavered as he spoke the next words.

And when he did—

My breath caught in my throat.

My hands clenched at my sides.

My body went rigid.

I didn’t speak.

Because if I did, I wasn’t sure I could keep my voice steady.

The room suddenly felt too small, the air too thick.

I wanted to move. I wanted to breathe.

But I did neither.

Instead, I stood there, staring at my father, feeling the cold realization settle deep into my bones.

This was the price of power.

And I was expected to pay it.

After I left his study.

I walked.

I didn’t know where I was going.

The weight of my father’s words echoed in my skull, each syllable ringing like a death knell. My body moved on its own, guided by nothing but the haze clouding my thoughts.

Cool evening air brushed against my skin as I drifted through the pack grounds. The voices of others, the distant hum of conversations, the sound of laughter—none of it registered. I was untethered, floating between the reality of what had just happened and the numbing daze trying to shield me from it.

By the time I finally stopped, the scent of hay and horses filled my lungs.

The stable.

I blinked, my surroundings slowly coming into focus. I hadn’t meant to come here. And yet, my feet had led me straight to him.

Lylda.

He was tending to one of the horses, running a careful hand along its mane, but when he saw me standing at the entrance, he immediately straightened. His movements were quick, almost panicked, like a child caught doing something forbidden.

"My lady," he greeted, voice tight, nerves threading through the words. He bowed his head slightly, not quite meeting my gaze.

There was something different about his expression.

Guilt.

He looked guilty.

As if he had done something wrong.

As if he had committed some terrible crime.

It struck a nerve.

"I—I’m sure the goddess will grant you a second chance mate," he fumbled, shifting awkwardly, wringing his hands as if his own words unsettled him. "You—You don’t have to worry about me. I understand. I—"

Before he could finish—before I could stop myself—

I kissed him.

I surged forward, capturing his lips in a desperate, aching kiss, pouring every ounce of turmoil, of confusion, of longing into the connection.

Lylda inhaled sharply against my lips, his entire body going rigid. For a split second, he didn’t move, didn’t breathe—just stood frozen, caught between shock and disbelief.

Then, his hands pressed against my shoulders, gently but firmly pushing me back.

I barely registered the cool air hitting my lips as he pulled away, his face burning with a deep crimson flush.

"M-My lady!" His voice wavered, flustered, his breaths uneven. His wide eyes darted towards the entrance, very much panicked. "What if—what if someone sees you? If—If anyone finds out, this could ruin your reputation! You shouldn’t—"

"Please don’t push me away, Lylda," I whispered.

His lips parted slightly, and his blush deepened.

"Please," I repeated.

I leaned in again, capturing his lips once more, and this time—this time, he didn’t pull away.

His hands trembled at his sides before finally, hesitantly, they lifted—one resting lightly against my waist, the other gripping the fabric of my sleeve as if clinging to something forbidden, something he knew he shouldn’t have.

His lips were soft—hesitant at first, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch me this way. But the moment I ran my fingers through his hair, everything changed.

A shudder rippled through him, his hands finally moving, finally grasping, finally holding me like he had wanted to all along.

His fingers curled around my waist, pulling me closer, pressing against me until there wasn’t a single inch of space left between our bodies. I could feel his heartbeat, hammering just as wildly as mine.

And then—

Then he kissed me deeper.

Heat surged between us, raw and desperate, as if we were trying to drown in each other, to forget everything that waited outside the stable walls. His lips moved with a hunger I hadn’t expected, claiming mine in a way that sent my head spinning.

I gasped against his mouth, and he used the opportunity to tilt my head, deepening the kiss until I was practically melting against him.

His hands slid up, trembling fingers tangling in the fabric of my clothes like he needed something to hold onto. Like he was afraid I would disappear.

I wasn’t going anywhere.

I let my fingers weave through his soft hair, tugging slightly. A small sound escaped his throat—something between a gasp and a sigh. His grip on me tightened, his body pressing closer, until my back met the wooden wall behind me.

The impact sent a shiver down my spine, but I barely noticed.

All I could focus on was Lylda.

On the way his breath hitched.

On the way his lips left mine, only to trail lower, grazing the corner of my jaw.

I let my head fall back, my own breath coming in uneven gasps. My hands slid from his hair to his shoulders, gripping them tightly as his lips continued downward—featherlight kisses along my neck, slow and careful, as if he were memorizing the way my skin felt beneath his mouth.

A sharp inhale escaped me when he found a sensitive spot.

He froze.

For a moment, I thought he would pull away again. That the realization of what we were doing would hit him, and he would retreat, apologizing, telling me we couldn’t do this.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he pressed another kiss there.

And another.

His warm breath fanned against my skin as his lips ghosted over my pulse, lingering, teasing. I felt his hesitation, the restraint laced within each kiss. Like he was holding himself back. Like he wanted more but didn’t know if he was allowed to take it.

His hands trembled as they rested against my waist, gripping the fabric of my clothes like they were the only thing keeping him grounded.

I tightened my grip on his shoulders, tilting my head slightly.

An invitation.

That was all it took.

His lips pressed against my throat again, firmer this time, leaving a trail of warmth down my skin. My breath came out in short, gasps, my heart pounding in my chest.

It was intoxicating.

He was intoxicating.

And for the first time in my life, I didn’t care about what was right or wrong. I didn’t care about my father. I didn’t care about my duties.

All I cared about was the Omega in front of me—the Omega who was mine.