A Dangerous Obsession
Chapter 37 - 36

Chapter 37: Chapter 36

LYCAN KING CASSIAN

I sat back in my throne, arm propped up, staring at the male in front of me with all the patience I could muster. He was groveling, his voice grating on every last nerve I had left. He spoke of something in the line of livestock and border disputes, but I had stopped paying any mind about three complaints ago. They were all the same, these little toys. Marching in here, one after another, all convinced they were the exception, that their issue was somehow worth my precious time.

But this one... this one had some extra volume to him. He got louder by the second, his voice growing all impassioned, like he had just discovered he had the power to be irritating. My patience was fraying. Every word out of his mouth was like nails on a chalkboard, and I felt a twitch starting to form at my brow.

These mortals never know how to stay in their place. They never understood the simplicity of being silent, just existing without kicking up dust. This mortal, in particular, was like a squeaky toy that had overstayed its welcome. I tilted my head, giving him a blank stare while he poured his heart out, utterly clueless that I was about two seconds away from doing something drastic.

Then, an idea flashed in my mind—a thought so simple, so brilliant, that I actually felt my fingers itch in anticipation. I could just kill him. Right here, right now. Just one swift move, and that would be the end of his droning voice, the end of my headache. It would be almost too easy. A bit messy, perhaps, but worth it for the peace and quiet.

I sighed, long and loud, watching as his shoulders stiffened. A slight smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. Somewhere deep down, on some primal, instinctual level, he had finally clued in. He must have realized that his complaints were about as significant to me as a raindrop in the ocean. He kept babbling, but his voice wavered now, his confidence cracking under the weight of my stare.

I leaned forward just a little, lazily dragging my fingers along the armrest of my throne. "Are you done?" I asked, voice flat and dripping with impatience. I let the question hang in the air, watching as his face turned a shade paler. His eyes darted to the guards stationed by the door. Like they would do him any good. Pathetic.

He swallowed hard, his shoulders hunching as he fumbled for his next words. I had seen that look a hundred times—a toy realizing he was insignificant, that he was just another pebble in my path.

But then, just as I was about to dismiss him, he threw me a curveball. "Of course, your majesty," he said, his tone shifting into something sly, almost conspiratorial, "I could bring you anything you desire. A fresh set of... toys, if you would like. Perhaps something more unique?" He gave a little chuckle, like he was letting me in on some grand secret. "Someone who could satisfy you more, my king. Someone better than the one you have now."

I stilled, my fingers halting mid-tap. The room suddenly felt colder, sharper. Better than her? My mind latched onto the words, twisting them into something dark and razor-edged. This fool had the audacity to stand here, in my hall, and suggest he could replace her? My bride, who was mine in every sense that mattered. As if he could just trot someone else in and expect them to match her fire, her defiance, the thrill she brought me just by existing.

I felt something simmering, anger bubbling up in a way that was as surprising as it was satisfying. She was mine. Perfect in her resistance, her fear, her defiance. Nothing he could ever bring me would come close.

"Better?" I echoed, letting the word hang in the air, soft and deadly.

The man’s smug smile started to fade, his confidence cracking as he finally began to understand the monumental error he had made. He took a hesitant step back, but it was too late.

"Yes, Your Majesty," he stammered, his voice faltering, "I only meant—"

I rose from the throne, each step deliberate, measured. The room had fallen completely silent, every guard, every servant, watching with bated breath. The toy took another step back, his face draining of color as I closed the distance between us. My hand drifted to the blade at my side, my fingers brushing the hilt. He finally looked terrified, truly terrified, and that little flicker of fear made my lips curl into a slow, cruel smile.

"You thought you could bribe me..." I murmured, my voice a whisper, just for him. "By offering me... replacements?"

"My King, forgive me," he begged, his voice reduced to a hoarse, pitiful rasp. "I-I only thought—"

I tilted my head, feigning curiosity, letting the anticipation build. "You thought wrong."

In a single, swift motion, I drew my dagger, and before he could react, I drove it deep into his chest. His mouth opened in a silent scream, his hands clawing at mine as I twisted the blade, watching the pain twist his face, turning it into a grotesque mask. He stumbled, his legs buckling, and with one last rattling breath, he slumped to the floor in a crumpled heap.

"Dispose of this," I said to the nearest guard, flicking the blood from my blade. My voice was calm, almost bored, as though I hadn’t just ended a life. And really, I hadn’t lost anything of worth. This toy, this insect, had dared to suggest he could find someone better than her. As if anyone could ever match her.

Settling back into my throne, I allowed myself a moment to savor the silence. A familiar spark of hunger reignited inside me—a hunger for the one person who could ever satisfy me, the one person who could fuel my fascination and temper my rage all at once.

I reached for the small bell beside my throne, ringing it with a quiet chime that echoed through the now-still hall. A servant appeared almost instantly, bowing deeply, her face pale, her hands shaking.

Without looking up, I issued my command, each word laced with a dark, possessive need. "Bring her to me," I said, my gaze fixed on the empty space in front of me, already imagining the defiance in her eyes, the stubborn tilt of her chin, the fire that no one else could hold a candle to. "My bride."

As the servant scrambled to obey, I leaned back, a faint smirk playing on my lips. Let them all see, let them all understand—no one would ever replace her. She was mine, and anyone who thought otherwise would end up just like the fool currently being dragged out of my hall.

In the quiet that followed, I settled in, knowing it wouldn’t be long before she arrived.