A Dangerous Obsession
Chapter 31 - 30

Chapter 31: Chapter 30

I was called upon again sooner than I had expected.

It had only been a day since that humiliating scene in his study, and yet, here I was, summoned once more. A part of me wanted to refuse, to dig in my heels and let him know I wasn’t some puppet he could yank around on a whim. But refusing wasn’t an option. Not in this world. Not with him.

I took a deep breath, calming my racing heart as the new maid who had come for me waited by the door. She said nothing, her eyes fixed on me with an expression that could give Sabastine a run for his money in the stoic department. Her silence was deafening, and I couldn’t help but feel like I was being escorted to my doom.

I sighed heavily, sending up a silent prayer for Elara’s speedy recovery. Without her warm smile and reassuring presence, the castle felt cold and unforgiving.

"Let’s get this over with," I muttered under my breath, following her out of my chamber. My feet were reluctant to carry me forward, but they did. I had long since learned to move even when every part of me screamed not to.

As we walked through the bright hallways, the light of day spilled through the windows, making it harder to hide how raw I felt. The sun, so stark and unforgiving, seemed out of place against the weight pressing on my chest. I could almost hear his laughter echoing in the back of my mind, reminding me how little control I had in this situation.

This time, instead of heading to his study, the maid led me toward the grand dining hall. The shift in location threw me off. I couldn’t remember the last time we had shared a meal together, but maybe that was the point. He liked to keep me unbalanced, always guessing.

As we neared the entrance, I noticed the heavy wooden doors were slightly ajar. The faint sounds of conversation and clinking dishes reached my ears, and I hesitated. What now? Was I being paraded before more than just him this time? A wave of nausea rolled over me at the thought.

The maid pushed the door open further and gestured for me to enter. I swallowed my apprehension and stepped inside, bracing myself for whatever fresh humiliation awaited.

The dining hall was grand, more so in the daylight, with towering windows that let in streams of sunlight, casting golden pools across the polished floor. The long table at the center of the room was set with an elaborate spread, though only one places were occupied—his.

Whoever was in the dining hall seconds ago had vanished by the time I walked in. And I’m not even going to mention how nerve-wracking that was. Did they somehow make use of teleportation magic?

The thought gnawed at me as I gazed at the Lycan king who was already seated at the head of the table, his back to the windows, casting a shadow over the space in front of him. His eyes were on me the moment I stepped inside, and I felt that familiar shiver of unease crawl up my spine. He wasn’t smirking this time, though. His expression was... unreadable, which was somehow worse.

"Sit," he said, his voice cutting through the silence. He gestured toward the seat beside him, not at the opposite end of the table like I had hoped.

I hesitated for only a moment before walking toward the chair. The room felt colder than it should, and I could feel his eyes on me the entire time, watching my every move. I sat down slowly, trying to keep my composure, even though my pulse was racing.

"What is this?" I asked, my voice coming out more strained than I had intended. I didn’t mean to sound defiant, but the weight of the past day hung over me, making it hard to be polite.

The corner of his mouth twitched, though not in amusement. "I thought it was time we had a proper meal together," he said smoothly, leaning back in his chair. His gaze never left mine, and there was an edge to his tone, something darker than the usual playful taunts. "After all, we need to get better acquainted."

A meal? That’s why he had summoned me? It felt too simple, too casual for someone like him. There had to be more to it. I eyed him warily, my stomach twisting. "Better acquainted?" I repeated, not bothering to hide my suspicion.

He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. "Yes," he said, his voice lowering as he studied me. "You’ve been here long enough. And yet, I feel as though you’re still... holding back. I want to know you, truly. Who you are. What you’re thinking."

My heart skipped a beat at that. The idea of him knowing what I was really thinking was terrifying. He had enough power over me as it was—if he got inside my head, there’d be nothing left of me to hold on to.

"I don’t see why it matters," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. "You already know everything important."

The Lycan King chuckled softly, though there was no humor in the sound. "Do I? Somehow, I doubt that." He tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. "Tell me, do you hate me?"

The question caught me off guard. I felt my breath hitch, the words I wanted to say lodged in my throat. Of course I hated him. But admitting that—especially to him—was dangerous. So I stayed silent, my hands gripping the edge of my seat as I met his gaze, refusing to answer.

He smiled then, but it was cold, almost... satisfied. "I thought so." He leaned back in his chair again, the tension between us thick enough to cut through. "That’s good. It’ll make things more interesting."

I frowned, unsure of what he meant by that, but I wasn’t about to ask.

Before I could respond, he rose from his seat, moving with that same predatory grace I had come to recognize. He circled the table, stopping just behind me. I tensed, every muscle in my body screaming at me to run, but I stayed still.

His hand brushed lightly against my shoulder, his fingers barely touching the fabric of my sleeve. "This," he said softly, "is a game. A cruel game, and I can’t help but wonder, just how long you’ll last."

I stiffened, my breath catching in my throat as he dropped a box on the table and stepped away, his presence still looming over me despite the distance.

"Make sure you wear it," he added, his voice carrying the faintest hint of amusement once more.

And with that, he left the room, leaving me sitting there in the empty dining hall, a knot of dread settling in the pit of my stomach.

My hands trembled as I slowly reached for the box, the sound of my pulse drowning out the silence of the room. The lid lifted easily, revealing a charm nestled inside—a delicate bangle-like charm, but not just any kind. It was a protection charm. The intricate symbol and the faint hum of magic emanating from it told me it wasn’t meant for decoration alone.

A protection charm. But protection from what? Or from whom?

I slipped it on my wrist, feeling the cool metal settle against my skin. What game was he playing now?