A Dangerous Obsession
Chapter 23 - 22

Chapter 23: Chapter 22

CHLOERENDIA

The cool morning air felt sharp against my skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat boiling in my chest. I squared off with Eirlys, my sparring partner, but today... today, I wanted more than just a friendly bout. I needed to unleash this storm inside me.

Eirlys grinned, playful as ever, as she shifted into a low stance. "Ready to get your ass kicked, Chloe?"

Normally, I’d throw some banter back at her, but today? No. Today wasn’t normal. My mind was still burning with the memory of yesterday—the sting of my father’s words seared into me like a scar.

I thought this time would be different. When he told me I’d be accompanying him to the conference with the other pack leaders, I believed, for the first time, he saw me as his equal. Maybe I’d finally proven myself. But then... he’d left me in the carriage.

"You’ll wait here," he had said, not even bothering to turn around and look at me as he walked away, leaving me to sit there like some useless trophy.

To him I’m nothing but a breeding mare.

I shook my head, trying to push the memory away, but the rage just simmered hotter.

"Chloe, you good?" Eirlys asked, sensing something was off.

I didn’t answer. Instead, I launched at her, claws out, teeth bared. She barely dodged in time, but I didn’t let up. My fists flew at her with relentless speed, my wolf snarling inside me, feeding the aggression.

"Whoa, what the hell!" Eirlys yelped, blocking a punch that nearly landed square on her jaw.

But I didn’t care. I didn’t stop. I wasn’t just fighting Eirlys anymore. I was fighting my father, fighting the sickening weight of his dismissal, the way he’d stripped me down to nothing more than a vessel for sons. A breeding mare.

I swung hard, my claws catching Eirlys’s arm. Blood splattered across the dirt as she staggered back, shock written across her face. She wasn’t expecting this. She didn’t know what I was going through. Hell, I didn’t even know anymore. All I knew was that I needed to fight.

"Chloe!" she yelled, cradling her injured arm, her face pale. "What’s gotten into you?"

"Fight me!" I screamed, my voice raw, burning. "Fight me, Eirlys!"

But she didn’t. She just stared at me like I’d lost my mind, which maybe I had. She shook her head, holding up her good hand in surrender.

"Chloe, you’re bleeding me out—calm down."

I growled, my fists trembling at my sides, fury roaring through my veins. "Fight me!" I roared again, but Eirlys wouldn’t move. She was afraid. I could smell it. I could see it in her eyes—the fear.

My vision blurred, my wolf pushing at the edges of my control, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care about control right now. I turned away from Eirlys, glaring at the others who had gathered around to watch. Their wide eyes told me everything. They were nervous.

"Come on!" I shouted, pacing like a caged animal, my chest heaving. "Any one of you! Fight me!"

Nobody moved. Not a single one of them stepped forward. Pathetic. Weak.

I bared my teeth, frustration and anger building to a fever pitch. "You’re all weak," I spat, my voice dripping with venom.

I looked back at Eirlys, who was still clutching her bleeding arm, her face tight with pain. "And you," I hissed. "You won’t even fight back."

I couldn’t take it anymore. The rage, the disappointment, the feeling of never being good enough—it all came crashing down on me. I turned on my heel, storming off, the others parting to let me pass.

"Chloe, wait!" Eirlys called after me, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. If I stayed one more second, I was going to tear them all apart.

My feet pounded against the earth, my breath ragged, but I kept moving, letting the anger propel me forward. I didn’t know where I was going. I didn’t care. I just needed to get away from them, away from everything that reminded me of the prison I was trapped in—the prison of my father’s expectations, the prison of being a daughter who would never be enough.

Tears blurred my vision, but I blinked them away. Crying was for the weak. And I wasn’t weak. I was strong, damn it. Stronger than any of them. But what did it matter when no one saw me for who I was? No one, least of all my father, believed in me.

I stopped, breathless, my body trembling with exhaustion and frustration. The sun was rising higher, casting long shadows across the training field. But I didn’t feel the warmth. I felt cold. Hollow. Alone.

I dropped to my knees, clenching my fists in the dirt, my chest aching with the weight of everything I couldn’t change. No matter how hard I fought, no matter how strong I became, it would never be enough for him.

I wasn’t his son. And in his eyes, that meant I would never be worthy.

The weight of that truth crushed me, and for the first time in a long time, I let the tears fall. The fight was over, but the battle inside me raged on.

I thought that with Layla gone—her perfect, untouchable pure lineage out of the picture—and with Edgar out of the way, I could finally be seen. Finally prove my worth. Even without being a son.

I kicked the dirt beneath my feet, trying to shake the feeling. But the truth clawed at me, digging deeper. It wasn’t just about Layla or Edgar or the others. It was about the fact that, no matter how hard Itried, Iwould always be the one left standing in the background. Watching. Waiting. Wanting to be more.

My fists clenched at my sides as I forced myself to take a breath, the air burning in my lungs. I couldn’t let this go on. I couldn’t keep living like this—constantly fighting to be seen in a world that refused to acknowledge me. There had to be something more. I had to be more.

I gritted my teeth, the frustration bubbling over, and before I knew it, my legs were moving again, carrying me toward the edge of the training grounds. I needed space. I needed to get away from all of them, from the weight of my own failure.

I felt like running away.

But deep down, I knew that wasn’t an option. Not for me. Running wasn’t the answer. Fighting was. And if I had to fight my way through every single person in this pack to prove my worth, then so be it.

Because one day, they would see me.

They would have to.