A Dangerous Obsession
Chapter 63 - 62

Chapter 63: Chapter 62

"What—" I started, my voice shaky, but he wasn’t looking at me. His focus was on the white werewolf, now snarling and pacing just beyond the invisible barrier he was holding up.

The werewolf lunged at the barrier, its massive body slamming against it with enough force to make the ground tremble. But the barrier held, shimmering faintly with every hit.

The Lycan King didn’t flinch.

I, on the other hand, was very much flinching. "What is that, your majesty?" I asked, my voice high and panicked.

"A nuisance," he said, his tone infuriatingly calm.

The werewolf snarled again, throwing itself at the barrier, and I couldn’t help but press closer to him. His arm tightened around me, holding me firmly against him, and despite the terror of the situation, I felt... safe.

I glanced up at him, and that’s when I saw it. The smirk.

He was smirking.

"Why are you smirking right now?!" I demanded, my panic giving way to exasperation. "This is not a smirking situation!"

His red eyes finally met mine, and something in them made my breath hitch. "Isn’t it?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.

Before I could respond—or yell at him—he leaned in.

I froze as his face came closer, my mind struggling to process what was happening. "What are you—"

And then his lips were on mine.

The world seemed to stop.

His kiss was intense, overwhelming. It wasn’t soft or gentle—it was possessive, claiming, as if he were staking his territory. His hand came up to cup the back of my neck, holding me in place as his lips moved against mine with a skill that left me breathless.

Heat bloomed in my chest, spreading through my body like wildfire. My hands, which had been hovering awkwardly at my sides, found their way to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt as if it were the only thing keeping me grounded.

The barrier shimmered again, the werewolf snarling louder than ever, but it all felt distant.

All I could focus on was him—the way his lips moved against mine, the warmth of his hand on my neck, the way his scent seemed to wrap around me like a cocoon.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes burned into mine, and that damn smirk was back.

"Still think it’s not a smirking situation?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.

I opened my mouth to respond, to say something, anything, but before I could, the world shifted.

I woke up with a gasp, sitting upright in bed. My heart was racing. For a moment, I didn’t know where I was—caught between the vivid memory of the white werewolf and the lingering heat of that kiss.

But as my eyes adjusted to the dim light of my bedchamber, the familiar surroundings grounded me. My breathing slowed, my heart beginning to settle—until I heard a voice.

"Finally awake, darling?"

I froze.

Slowly, I turned my head toward the source of the voice. And there he was—the Lycan King himself, lying beside me on the bed.

Half-naked.

His eyes watched me with an intensity that made my stomach flip, his face propped on one hand as if he didn’t have a care in the world. The smirk tugging at his lips told me he was very aware of the effect he was having on me.

I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but the words wouldn’t come. My gaze betrayed me, trailing down to the expanse of his broad chest and chiseled abs. My heart stuttered as I noticed the wound that had once marred his torso was completely gone, as if it had never been there.

The king clicked his tongue, shaking his head like a disapproving teacher catching a student daydreaming. "Eyes up here, darling," he said, using his free hand to gently lift my chin until I was forced to meet his gaze.

I flushed so hard I thought I might combust on the spot.

"W-What are you doing in my bed?" I finally managed, my voice embarrassingly breathy.

His smirk widened. "Is that really all you have to say to me?"

Before I could respond—or make a half-hearted attempt to shove him off the bed—he shifted. In one fluid motion, he was leaning over me, one arm braced on the mattress beside my head. His sheer size and proximity stole the air from my lungs.

His free hand moved, brushing a loose strand of my hair away from my face. I shivered as his fingers lingered, twisting the strand before bringing it to his lips. He kissed it, slow and deliberate, his red eyes never leaving mine.

"That’s all you have to say," he murmured, his voice low and dripping with something dangerous, "after all the trouble I went to just to save you."

I swallowed hard. "I... I didn’t ask you to save me," I stammered, though the words came out weaker than I intended.

His eyes darkened, and he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting against my ear. "You wound me," he whispered, the edge of his lips brushing against the shell of my ear.

I felt my entire body tense as heat flooded my cheeks. "Y-Your Majesty—"

"Yes?" he answered, his voice teasing as his lips moved lower, grazing the sensitive skin of my neck.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my words catching in my throat.

His lips curved against my skin in a wicked smile. "Something I should have done a long time ago."

I barely had time to process his words before his hand began to trail up my thigh, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt through my entire body. My breath hitched as his lips pressed against the hollow of my throat, lingering there before moving downward.

"You’ve left me starved," he murmured against my skin, his voice low and husky. "That’s not very nice of you."

My mind was a chaotic mess, torn between wanting to push him away and being utterly frozen by the sensations he was stirring.

It was maddening.