A Dangerous Obsession
Chapter 54 - 53

Chapter 54: Chapter 53

Day’s passed in a blur and I wasn’t sure what possessed me to pry into his affairs—curiosity, boredom, or plain stupidity. Maybe a mix of all three. But I had to know. Why had the Lycan King been so furious that day? His aura had been so suffocating that even my wolf, weak as she was, had trembled like a leaf caught in a storm. It was the kind of anger that made the air thick, oppressive, and nearly impossible to breathe.

It wasn’t like anyone had outright told me. No, the servants here wouldn’t dare risk their tongues—or their lives—on gossip. But whispers have a funny way of slipping through cracks. A passing comment here, a stray murmur there, the nervous shuffle of someone’s feet when a certain topic came up. I picked up the pieces one by one, stitching them together until I had a clear picture.

Apparently, someone—no, a group of someones—had dared to send the Lycan Kings a message. A request, of all things. They had asked him to step down from the throne.

My jaw tightened just thinking about it. Bold didn’t even begin to describe their audacity. Who in their right mind would demand something as daring as that to the Lycan king. They had to know what kind of person—no, what kind of monster—he was. And yet, they still thought they could demand something like that and live to tell the tale?

Well, unsurprisingly they didn’t.

And the guild that delivered the message?

Now ceased to exist.

Gone. Obliterated. Like they had never even been there.

Word was, the Lycan King had decided their refusal to reveal who had sent them was reason enough to wipe them out. The halls had practically reeked of blood the next day, and though no one said anything, the servants moved a little quicker, their heads bowed a little lower.

Was I horrified? Yes. Surprised? Not in the slightest.

And yet, despite all that chaos, he hadn’t summoned me since. Not once. It was strange, almost unsettling. I had grown used to his looming presence, his infuriatingly calm yet dangerous demeanor. It was like waiting for a storm that never came, the tension settling under my skin and refusing to leave.

I had tried to distract myself with my daily routine—eating, sleeping, wandering the halls, avoiding Sabastine’s ever-watchful gaze. The usual. But it was hard not to let my mind drift back to that day, to the suffocating weight of his fury.

I turned my attention to the window. Outside, the forest stretched endlessly, its dark shadows weaving between the towering trees like secrets no one dared to uncover. The soft sway of the branches should’ve been calming. But here, nothing ever felt truly peaceful.

In moments like this, I would’ve been plotting my next escape. Before, the thought of staying here, in this suffocating fortress, had felt unbearable. Every fiber of my being had screamed at me to run, to find some corner of the world where I could breathe freely again.

But now?

The thought of escaping made me laugh.

Not the kind of laugh that bubbles up from genuine amusement, but the hollow, bitter kind that tastes like ash on your tongue. It was funny, really. I had gone from plotting my freedom to... what? Accepting this twisted reality? Realizing that nowhere was safe for someone like me?

It wasn’t just the Lycan King I had to worry about. There were others out there—worse things, darker things. And while he was dangerous, he wasn’t reckless. At least, not with me. Not yet.

The quietness of my chamber wrapped around me like an old, familiar cloak as I stared into a daze. It wasn’t the soothing kind of quiet, though. It was heavy, the kind that made my ears ring and my thoughts louder than they had any right to be.

I reached for the worn spine of a book on the small shelf near my bed, but I didn’t pull it down. Instead, I slumped back onto the bed, letting out a groan that was probably more dramatic than necessary. My cats stirred from their spot near the window, their heads tilting in unison as they watched me flop onto the mattress.

"You two have it easy," I muttered, staring at the ceiling. "No Lycan kings, no Sabastine, no life-or-death power games. Just lounging around, eating, and purring your days away."

Xylara let out a soft meow, stretching her sleek body before hopping onto the bed beside me. The others followed a moment later, sinking the mattress slightly as they settled near my feet.

I reached out, running a hand through her fur. She purred immediately, her small head pressing into my palm as if to say, Forget the world; I’m here.

"You’re spoiled, you know that?" I murmured, but the warmth of her body against mine was more comforting than I wanted to admit.

The book I had abandoned earlier called to me again, a small escape from the suffocating reality of my situation. With a sigh, I grabbed it off the shelf, flipping through its yellowed pages until I found the spot where I had left off. The story wasn’t anything extraordinary—a romance, predictable but satisfying. The kind where the hero brooded a lot, but at least he wasn’t threatening to snap necks or move mountains with a single stomp of his foot.

Unlike someone I knew.

My lips twitched, but it wasn’t quite a smile.

The words on the page blurred together as my mind wandered. The Lycan King’s furious expression flashed behind my eyes, followed by the sound of his cold, chilling laugh. That wasn’t something I could forget, even if I wanted to. And I definitely wanted to.

Xylara let out a low purr, nudging my leg with her head. I reached down to scratch behind her ears, my chest tightening.

The thought of running used to be a constant itch, always at the back of my mind. But now, the idea of escaping felt nothing but... pointless.

Maybe I was broken. Maybe this place had done something to me, warped the way I thought and felt. Because instead of plotting my next move, I was sitting here, surrounded by cats, reading a book about love while the man who controlled my fate probably doesn’t know that word actually exist.

Ironic.