A Dangerous Obsession
Chapter 50 - 49

Chapter 50: Chapter 49

As I trudged back to my chamber, I tried to shake off the humiliation of it all. The nerve he had—to parade me around as if I were some kind of novelty act. The smirk on his face was still burned into my mind, as if taunting me every step of the way. I gritted my teeth, fists clenched by my sides.

Just as I turned a corner, I spotted someone familiar at the far end of the estate. Elara. I froze in place, barely breathing, as our gazes met. She was close enough that I could see her eyes flash for a split second, taking me in, but before I could even think to say something, she looked away, like I was nothing more than a passing shadow.

She looked... healthy.

I tore my eyes away from her and kept walking, each step heavier than the last, feeling that sharp sting of betrayal all over again. How could she seem so unaffected? It was like she had already carved me out of her life. Good riddance, I thought bitterly. If she could turn her back that easily, I didn’t need her pity or her friendship.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of marching through the endless corridors, I reached my chamber. I wrenched the door open, stormed in, and didn’t even bother to close it behind me as I tossed the stiff, attire I had been forced to wear for the sparring onto the floor. With a groan, I slumped onto the bed, the frustration finally sinking in. The soft, familiar purring of my cats wrapped around me as they curled up by my side, their warm bodies a small comfort against everything that had happened.

For a few moments, I just lay there, letting their soft fur soothe me. They nuzzled against my arms, my cheeks, each little sound they made grounding me, pulling me out of my tangled thoughts. I wanted to stay like this, to forget everything, but then there was a knock at my door.

The door slowly cracked open reviewing the maid. Of course. I rolled my eyes, the frustration boiling up again as I heard her hesitant footsteps shuffle into the room. Without looking up, I knew she was lingering near the doorway, shifting uncomfortably, probably eager to finish her task and leave. And honestly, that suited me just fine.

"I’ll handle things myself," I said, keeping my voice calm but firm. I didn’t want anyone near me right now, especially not someone who looked at me like I was a ticking time bomb. But the maid didn’t leave. She hesitated, her presence lingering longer than I had expected.

"My lady, I was instructed to assist you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

I lifted my head, my gaze sharp, and met her eyes. She flinched under the weight of my stare, her confidence crumbling as she quickly glanced down. That was all it took. She finally got the hint, scurrying out as if the walls were closing in around her, and I didn’t even bother watching her leave. Good

. I needed space, not someone hovering over me with forced politeness.

When the door closed, I let out a sigh, pulling myself up and heading over to the small, ornately carved bathtub in the corner. Filling it took a little longer than expected, but there was something calming about the simple task. Back at Sy, I had always taken care of my own bath, my own space. Every task, every routine was my own. There was a quiet satisfaction in it, a reminder of the person I used to be—the one who didn’t rely on anyone.

The warm water finally rose to the brim, steam curling in the air as I slipped in with a quiet hiss. I sank deeper, letting the water embrace me, my hair spreading like ink across the surface. Every inhale was a small relief, the scent of lavender oil floating from the water soothing my frayed nerves. I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of everything slowly dissolve, replaced by a strange calm.

Memories of Sy floated up, unbidden, and I found myself clinging to them, each one grounding me. Back then, I may have felt insolated but I had been a little bit free. I could wander, explore... live. But now... now it was different. I felt like a bird in a gilded cage, each bar forged by the Lycan King’s whims and demands. And the worst part? I couldn’t shake the feeling that I would never get back that freedom.

When I finally came out from the bath, the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting the room in dim, orange-tinted shadows. I wrapped myself in a soft robe, sinking onto the edge of the bed, my hair still damp and clinging to my shoulders. My cats were waiting for me, curled up in little balls of warmth, their purrs vibrating against my skin as they nestled closer. I stroked each of them absentmindedly, my mind drifting back to everything that had happened today.

I barely had time to settle when I heard a light knock on my door, followed by the hesitant shuffle of footsteps. I didn’t even have to look up to know who it was—the maid, back again, probably with another command from the Lycan king.

I tensed, preparing myself for whatever order she had been sent to deliver, but instead, her voice was unusually soft, almost wary.

"My lady," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, "the Lycan King... he summons you."

The words hung in the air, a heavy reminder of my place, of the power he held over every aspect of my life here. But this time, I didn’t feel the familiar pull of obedience, the instinct to follow his call.

No. I was done running to his every whim, done playing along with his games, his mockery. I let the silence stretch, long and unyielding, until the maid shifted uncomfortably, glancing at me with wide, nervous eyes.

"Tell him..." I began, each word dripping with defiance, "that I refuse to answer his summons."