A Dangerous Obsession
Chapter 32 - 31

Chapter 32: Chapter 31

The charm around my wrist felt heavier by the second. It wasn’t the weight of the metal itself, but something deeper, a reminder that nothing in this place was as simple as it seemed. It was clearly a protection charm, but protection from whom? Or what? It felt like yet another layer had been added to the twisted game he played—a game he warned me I wouldn’t survive.

A part of me wanted to rip the charm off, to toss it as far from me as possible, but I knew better. In this palace, rebellion had a price. Instead, I ran my thumb over the intricate design, half-expecting it to burn me, to pulse with the same strange energy I felt every time he was near. His words echoed in my mind, cold and cutting. How long will you last?

The dining hall was empty now, only the cold remnants of breakfast on my plate, untouched. The silence pressed in, thick and heavy, and I realized I hadn’t taken a full breath since he left. I exhaled, finally letting my shoulders slump, letting my guard down just for a second.

I was tired—bone-deep, soul-weary tired—and I knew he was counting on that. He wanted me broken, crumbling under the weight of his presence, his power. But I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction, not if it was the last thing I did. With a sigh, I rose from the table and pushed through the heavy doors, slipping into the corridor.

The hallway was dim, shadows dancing along the walls from the flickering torchlight. Each step felt heavier than the last as I headed outside, toward Elara’s home. I needed to see her. I was told her fever was raging with no sign of breaking.

I had barely reached her door when it opened, and the physician slipped out, his eyes widening as he caught sight of me. He hesitated, looking as if he wanted to say something, but then he glanced over his shoulder and hurried down the hall without a word. My pulse quickened as I pushed the door open.

The room was dim, the curtains drawn tight to keep out the morning light. The stale air made my nose wrinkle, thick with the scent of sickness and something else, something faint and metallic. My eyes adjusted, and there she was—Elara, pale as a ghost, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. But her eyes were open, finally. Relief surged through me, so overwhelming I nearly stumbled.

"Elara!" I crossed the room in a heartbeat, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "You’re awake. Glory to the goddess, I was so scared—"

But her face twisted, and the joy I felt died in an instant. She looked at me like I was a stranger, no, worse—like I was something to be feared. Her pale eyes widened, flicking around the room as though searching for an escape.

"Elara?" My voice trembled as I reached for her hand, but she pulled away, clutching the bedsheets. "What’s wrong?"

She shook her head, her eyes darting toward the door. "No... no..." she whispered, her voice barely more than a rasp. I could see the panic in her face, feel it in the way her body tensed. "You shouldn’t... you shouldn’t be here."

I swallowed, trying to keep the hurt from my voice. "It’s just me, Elara. You’re safe." I reached out again, desperate to comfort her, but she flinched, a flash of horror in her eyes. "Elara, please—"

"Leave." Her voice was low, almost inaudible, but it hit me like a slap. She was afraid of me. My heart pounded, confusion and hurt battling in my chest. "Just go."

Before I could respond, I felt it—a presence behind me, so dark and overpowering it felt like the room had been plunged into ice. My stomach dropped.

I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

"She told you to leave." The Lycan King’s voice was soft, smooth, like silk over steel. A chill slid down my spine as his hand settled on my shoulder, fingers digging in just enough to remind me of his strength. I held my breath, fighting the urge to shrink away.

I glanced back at Elara, hoping for some explanation, some hint that this was all a nightmare. But her gaze was fixed on him, wide and terrified, her lips trembling as though she wanted to say something but didn’t dare.

"What’s going on?" I managed, my voice barely more than a whisper.

The Lycan King’s lips curved into a smile, cold and humorless. "Darling, there are things in this world you’re better off not knowing."

The air in the room seemed to thicken, suffocating, pressing down on me from all sides. He released my shoulder, but even without his touch, his presence lingered, wrapping around me like chains. I forced myself to meet Elara’s gaze, silently begging her to explain. But she looked away, her expression twisted with something that looked like guilt.

"She is furious," Elara said, her words barely more than a whisper as she tried to meet his gaze. And though her body was weak, her voice carried a desperate urgency. "You can’t keep angering her like this!" she continued, her voice trembling. "I know... I know I’m overstepping my station, Your Majesty, but for the promise you gave us... please..." Her breath hitched as she struggled to continue, she looked at me, then back at him. "Get rid of her... before things get worse."

My blood ran cold at her words, and I glanced up at him in shock. Get rid of me? What was she talking about?

The Lycan King’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. His silence was suffocating, and I could feel the tension building like a storm on the horizon.

"Elara?" I whispered, taking a shaky step toward her. But before I could reach her, the Lycan King’s hand shot out, catching my wrist and stopping me in my tracks. His touch burned, cold and cruel.

"She have said enough," he murmured, his eyes gleaming with something dangerous. "Haven’t you, Elara?"

Elara’s face crumpled, and she nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line. She refused to meet my gaze, her hands trembling as she twisted the bedsheets. I wanted to scream, to demand answers, but the words caught in my throat, choked by the weight of his power.

"Leave," he ordered, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

I didn’t move. Not until I saw the way Elara looked at me, her eyes filled with a desperation that cut me to the core. She was begging me, silently pleading for me to go. So I did. I backed away, my heart heavy, my mind a whirl of questions I couldn’t ask.

The door closed behind me with a quiet click, and I leaned against it, struggling to catch my breath. The hallway stretched before me, empty and silent, but the silence wasn’t comforting. It felt... oppressive, thick with secrets and lies. The charm around my wrist burned against my skin, its weight even heavier now, as if mocking me.

I forced myself to move, my steps slow and measured as I walked towards the palace. Each step echoed in the empty space in my heart, a reminder of the isolation that clung to me like a second skin. I had never felt so alone.

I looked up at the towering silhouette of the palace, its dark spires stretching ominously against the sky, and bit my lip.

When I reached my bedchamber, I slumped against the door, letting out a shaky breath. I stared at the charm, its intricate patterns catching the dim light, casting tiny shadows across my wrist. Protection. But from what?

Or who?

I shook my head, trying to clear the questions, the doubts that gnawed at me. But they clung, stubborn, refusing to let go. I thought of Elara, of the fear in her eyes, the way she had looked at me like I was a stranger. Or worse, like I was the enemy. And that single word she’d whispered—leave. The memory sent a fresh wave of hurt crashing over me.

Ofcause I wanted to leave! If I had the freedom to decide I wouldn’t be here!

I sank onto the bed, my hands shook as I buried my face into them, and before I could stop it, tears welled up, spilling over as I buried my face in my hands. It wasn’t the quiet kind of crying, either—no, this was the ugly, desperate kind, the sobs wracking through me with a force that felt unstoppable.

I clutched my pillow, muffling my sobs, feeling as if every bit of hurt, every betrayal, and every ounce of fear was pouring out all at once. All I wanted was some truth, something real in this hollow, twisted world. And here I was, feeling more alone than I ever had.

When I finally lifted my head, gasping for air, my eyes were puffy, cheeks damp, but somehow, even through the exhaustion, I felt a little lighter.

Better.

But deep down I knew that something terrible was coming. Something I couldn’t stop, no matter how hard I fought.

And in the calmness, I could almost hear his voice, soft and mocking.

How long will you last?

The answer lodged itself in my throat, bitter and undeniable.

I didn’t know.