A Dangerous Obsession
Chapter 62 - 61

Chapter 62: Chapter 61

The book in my hands was nothing more than a meaningless prop. My eyes skimmed over the words on the page, but they were just shapes, nothing sticking, no meaning sinking in. I let out a heavy sigh, reaching down to scratch behind one of my cat’s ears. She purred contentedly in my lap, utterly unaffected by the storm raging in my mind. Her brother curled around my feet, as indifferent as she was to my restless thoughts.

But my thoughts weren’t just restless—they were haunted.

The Lycan King’s words still echoed in my mind: You’re mine.

I shivered at the memory, my fingers trailing against the cool, unyielding metal of the collar around my neck. Its edges were smooth but felt sharp, biting in their own way, as if the thing was alive and taunting me.

A collar.

Not a necklace. Not a bracelet. A collar.

I clenched my jaw and exhaled sharply, a bitter laugh escaping me. What was I expecting? Kindness? Appreciation? From him? The Lycan King was incapable of such things. I knew that. I had always known that. And yet, some stupid, naive part of me had dared to hope.

I tossed the book onto the table and stood abruptly, striding to the mirror. My reflection glared back at me, tired and angry. The collar gleamed in the dim light, the emerald at its center catching every glint like it wanted to mock me. It was beautiful—too beautiful for what it was. The cruelty of it wasn’t in its design but in its purpose.

I reached for it, fingers curling around the band. I pulled hard, harder, but it didn’t budge. Of course, it didn’t.

I had tried everything. Days of clawing at it, twisting it, trying to find some hidden mechanism. Nothing worked. Knowing him, it was probably bound with some ancient magic, locked so tightly to me that only he could undo it. Typical

"Mine," I muttered under my breath, mocking his deep, commanding tone. I paced the room, my frustration boiling over.

But beneath the anger, there was something else. Something colder. Something heavier.

Fear.

My fists trembled at the thought. Not just fear of him, though that was part of it. It was fear of the power he had over me—power I couldn’t shake, no matter how much I wanted to. It wasn’t just the collar, or the magic, or even his strength. It was the way he looked at me, the way his words sank into my skin like they were carving themselves into my soul.

I collapsed onto the bed with a groan, staring at the ceiling like it might have answers for me.

And that’s when it happened.

The pain hit me like a thunderbolt, sharp and searing, tearing through my chest so fast I barely had time to react. My body curled in on itself instinctively, my hands clutching at my ribs as if I could somehow hold myself together.

My wolf whimpered—a faint, pitiful sound deep within me. It was distant, muffled, like it was trapped behind a wall I couldn’t reach through. Panic surged. My wolf had never sounded like that before. Weak. Helpless.

"What’s happening?" I rasped, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

No one answered. Of course, no one answered.

The pain twisted again, spreading like fire through my veins. My breath hitched, and I clawed at the sheets, desperate for some kind of anchor. I tried to reach for my wolf, to find that familiar thread of connection that had always been there, steady and strong. But it was gone.

Just... gone.

The emptiness was chilling, a void where there had always been warmth and presence.

"No, no, no," I whispered, shaking my head like denial alone could bring it back. My body convulsed, and tears pricked my eyes, spilling over as the pain became too much.

And then, the darkness came.

It crept in slowly, curling at the edges of my vision like smoke. My limbs grew heavy, my thoughts slower, the world dissolving around me.

The last thing I heard before everything went black was a faint, broken howl. My wolf.

Then... silence.

When I woke, it wasn’t to the comfort of my bed.

The first thing I noticed was the sound. A low, mournful howling that sent chills racing down my spine. I opened my eyes and found myself in a forest—dense and dark, the kind of place that felt alive in all the wrong ways. The towering trees stretched toward the sky, their gnarled branches twisting like claws.

I didn’t know how I got here, but the sense of unease was immediate. The air was thick, suffocating, and every instinct I had screamed at me to move. To run.

And then I saw it.

A massive white werewolf stepped out from between the trees, its fur glowing faintly under the pale light of the moon. It was huge, its shoulders broader than three alpha male, its presence overwhelming. Its eyes glowed gold, locked onto me with a predatory intensity that froze me in place.

For a moment, neither of us moved.

Then it lunged.

I turned and ran, my feet pounding against the uneven ground. Roots and rocks threatened to trip me, but fear kept me moving. Branches whipped at my face, sharp and unrelenting.

Its growls echoed behind me, closer with every step. My chest burned, my legs ached, but I didn’t dare stop.

I glanced back—a mistake.

Its massive jaws snapped inches from my shoulder, its glowing eyes burning with hunger. It was toying with me. I could tell. It could have caught me already, but it was savoring the chase.

I stumbled, and just as its claws swiped toward me, something yanked me to the side.

An arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me against a solid chest. My heart was pounding too loud to hear much else, but the voice that followed cut through everything.

"Calm yourself."

I looked up and found myself staring into the red eyes of the Lycan King.