A Dangerous Obsession
Chapter 41 - 40

Chapter 41: Chapter 40

Just as I was about to sink deeper into my own humiliation, a sharp knock echoed through the room. I looked up, startled, my heart doing a strange little flip. The cats, too, paused in their grooming to look at the door, ears twitching.

It was Sabastine, standing there like a ghost in his dark attire, his expression as unreadable as ever. He gave me a quick nod, and before I could even open my mouth to ask, he said it, like he had plucked the thought straight out of my mind.

"The Lycan King summons you," he announced in that calm, detached way he had. No hint of what the King wanted, no explanation—just a summons, like I was some servant girl he would beckon with a snap of his fingers.

And the worst part? I felt this little spark of excitement flicker up inside me at those words. It was stupid and shameful and... well, just wrong. This was the Lycan King we were talking about—the same man I had sworn to hate, the same man who had probably seen me as nothing more than a plaything. And yet, my heart betrayed me with that foolish, painful little leap at hearing he wanted to see me.

I quickly forced it down, burying that ridiculous feeling deep inside. But I couldn’t ignore the bitter sting of realization that, somehow, despite everything, I had missed the way he seemed to command all the air in the room, the way his dark, piercing gaze never let me forget he was always a step ahead.

I swallowed, trying to gather myself before following Sabastine out of the room. My heart hammered in my chest as we walked through the winding corridors, every step echoing against the cold stone walls. I hated that I was feeling this way—that I cared, even a little, about being in his presence again. It felt like I was betraying myself, letting him creep under my skin when I had sworn he would never.

Sabastine was silent, of course. He always was, gliding through the halls with that quiet, unsettling composure. I had the strange sense that he knew what I was feeling, that he could see the war I was waging inside myself, and that he found it... amusing too. But if he did, he didn’t let on, his face as blank as ever as he led me up the stairs to the King’s chamber.

When we reached the door, he stopped and gave me a slight nod. "He’s waiting for you inside, My lady," he said, his voice as smooth as polished stone. I tried to take a steadying breath, squaring my shoulders, willing myself to feel like the woman I had once been, the one who would’ve walked into this room with her head held high, with fire in her eyes. But that woman felt far away, lost somewhere in the silence and shadows of this place.

I opened the door and stepped inside. There he was, standing by the massive window, his silhouette cutting a dark figure against the silver moonlight. He didn’t turn right away, just stood there with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing out over the endless forests beyond the estate, like he was a statue carved from night itself.

"Your Majesty," I said, my voice low, trying to keep it steady. It felt strange on my lips, this formality, after all the taunts and the games we had shared. But I wasn’t sure what else to say.

Finally, he turned, his eyes finding me immediately, piercing and unreadable. That familiar, calculating smirk curved on his lips, and I hated how it sent a shiver down my spine, a reminder that no matter how much I tried to steel myself, he always had a way of seeing right through me.

"You have been quiet," he said, his voice a soft purr that somehow managed to fill the whole room. There was something almost mocking in it, a hint of amusement that made me want to look away, but I forced myself to hold his gaze.

"It seemed wise," I replied, keeping my tone as even as I could. "Given the... change in the atmosphere here." I didn’t want to spell it out, didn’t want to admit that the servants’ coldness had affected me more than I cared to show. But somehow, I felt like he already knew.

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening as he took a step closer, his gaze never leaving mine. "And here I thought you would enjoy the quiet. Time to read, to pet your cats..." He trailed off, that mocking edge sharpening in his tone, and I felt my cheeks heat. He had a way of making even the simplest things sound ridiculous, small, as if he was reminding me that no matter what I tried to do to fill my time, I had always be at his mercy here.

I clenched my jaw, swallowing down the retort I wanted to throw back at him. That’s what he wants, I told myself, for me to lash out, to give him another reason to smile that wicked smile. Instead, I forced myself to stay calm, my voice barely above a whisper. "Is there something you wanted from me, Your Majesty?"

For a long moment, he just watched me, his eyes glittering with something dark and unreadable, something that made me feel like I was a mouse caught in a trap. Finally, he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head.

"Perhaps I just enjoy your company," he murmured, his tone so low it sent a chill through me. The words themselves should’ve felt warm, maybe even a little flattering, but from him, they felt like a warning, a reminder that no matter how far I tried to distance myself, he would always find a way to pull me back.

And the worst part? I didn’t hate it.

I gritted my teeth, disgusted by myself. Shameful.