A Dangerous Obsession
Chapter 30 - 29

Chapter 30: Chapter 29

As I walked out of the Lycan King’s study, feeling the weight of humiliation and the lingering sound of his mocking laughter still in my ears, I almost bumped into Sabastine. He was heading toward the study, a tray of tea balanced expertly in his hands. When his eyes landed on me, his usual composed expression faltered, replaced by a look of genuine surprise. His brow furrowed in confusion.

"My lady?" he called softly, his tone uncertain, as if he was questioning whether it was really me standing there.

My face flushed with embarrassment, the heat creeping up my neck as I lowered my gaze and hurried past him, not trusting myself to say a word. I didn’t need to. Sabastine wasn’t stupid—he would figure it out himself. I felt his gaze follow me as I moved down the hall, the unspoken questions heavy in the air.

Why? Why had I let myself be reduced to this?

I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. My feet carried me toward my chamber, every step heavier than the last. But just as I was about to turn the corner, Sabastine’s voice echoed back from the study, faint but clear enough to stop me in my tracks.

"Was that really necessary, Your Majesty?" Sabastine asked, his tone respectful but edged with disapproval.

I paused, my heart skipping a beat.

For a moment, I stood there, holding my breath, listening, half hoping to hear some kind of justification—some reason that would make sense of the humiliating spectacle he had made of me. But all I heard was his low chuckle, a deep, amused sound that sent chills to my bone.

I felt my nails dig into my palms, my fists clenched so tight it hurt. Each step down the hallway felt heavier than the last, the icy chill of the floor doing nothing to calm the heat of my shame. I had been reduced to this—dancing like a fool for his amusement, paraded like some sort of trophy in that ridiculous dress.

And the worst part? The truth that I couldn’t shake? He had all the power. With just a snap of his fingers, he could summon me, mock me, strip me of my dignity—and I’d have no choice but to bow and play along.

I hated him. Goddess, how I hated him.

The maid who had led me there was waiting just around a corner, her eyes downcast, clearly too afraid to meet my gaze. I didn’t blame her. She was caught in the same web as the rest of us. Silent, obedient, powerless.

I followed her down the corridor, though my mind was miles away, replaying every second of that awful encounter in the study over and over again. His laughter, his smirk—it was as if every move I made fed his ego. How long would I have to endure this? How long until I snapped?

The maid stopped outside my door and gestured for me to enter. I didn’t thank her, didn’t even acknowledge her presence, as I slipped through the door and shut it behind me with a quiet click.

Finally alone, I let out a shaky breath, leaning against the cool wood of the door. My chest ached with the weight of it all—the anger, the shame, the helplessness. How much longer could I keep pretending that I was okay with this? That I could endure this?

I moved toward the bed, my legs feeling like lead as I collapsed onto the edge. The dress, with its lace and ribbons, still clung to my skin like a reminder of my humiliation. I couldn’t stand it for a second longer.

With trembling hands, I began tearing it off, yanking at the delicate fabric until it pooled in a heap on the floor. I didn’t care that I had ruined it. I didn’t care about anything except the burning need to be free of that awful reminder.

As I sat there, wrapped in nothing but my shame, I glanced out the window, where the sun hung stubbornly in the sky, casting long shadows across the floor. The world outside seemed indifferent to what had just happened. Everybody were probably going about their day as if nothing had changed, while I sat here, trying to scrape together the last pieces of my dignity.

With trembling fingers, I brushed the discarded dress aside, the lace and ribbons lying in a crumpled mess at my feet. I couldn’t look at it without feeling sick, without remembering how ridiculous I’d looked in front of him. How every glance, every smirk, had cut deeper than words ever could.

I rose from the bed, walking toward the window to let the fresh air calm the fire still burning inside me. The cool breeze hit my skin, and for a moment, I just stood there, letting it wash over me, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions. Anger, shame, helplessness—all swirling together until I couldn’t tell one from the other.

From there, I could see the courtyard, the gardens, and beyond that, the forest stretching out in every direction, a vast expanse of freedom that felt impossibly far away. It taunted me, the idea of escape. If only I could run, disappear into the trees, never to look back. But I wasn’t a fool. Even if I did escape, I’d be hunted down. The Lycan King’s reach extended far beyond these walls, and I had nowhere to go.

A knock at the door jolted me from my thoughts. I turned sharply, heart racing. For a second, I feared it might be him again, that he had come to drag me back for another round of humiliation. But the knock was soft, hesitant.

"Come in," I said, my voice quieter than I intended.

The door creaked open, and the maid from earlier stepped in, her eyes still downcast. She had a fresh set of clothes draped over her arm, something simple, much more suited to a day like this than the ridiculous dress I had just torn off.

"My lady," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper. She glanced at the ruined dress on the floor, her mouth tightening ever so slightly, but she said nothing about it. Instead, she stepped forward and placed the new clothes on the bed.

"Thank you," I said, though the words felt hollow.

The maid gave a small nod, still avoiding my eyes, and quietly left the room.

I stood there, staring at the door for a long time after she was gone, the silence pressing down on me. The sunlight continued to pour through the window, stubborn and bright, as if to remind me that time was still moving, even though I felt stuck, trapped in this moment, in this place.

I sighed, rubbing my temples as I forced myself to move. The simple clothes the maid had left for me felt like a small mercy, and I slipped them on quickly, relishing how the soft, plain fabric felt against my skin after the suffocating lace and ribbons. At least in this, I could breathe again.

My eyes wandered back to the window, to the forest that lay just beyond the gardens. The idea of running flickered in my mind again, but I pushed it aside. That wasn’t an option. Not yet.

There had to be another way, a way to turn the tables on him, to make him see that I wasn’t just some toy to be played with and discarded. I wasn’t going to spend the rest of my life dancing to his tune.

Or should I say, the rest of my remaining days.

I chuckled softly as I lay down on my bed. "I hope Elara is getting better."