The Lycan King's Wrong Obsession novel Sorin Carter (by Circeleari) novel Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The silence outside is worse than the banging.

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I’m still half on my knees from before, palms flat on the floor, bly locked like maybe if I don’t move, the quiet won’t swallow me whole.

My throat burns as I lean toward the door. “What the hell is going on out there?” My voice comes out hoarse, almost breaking at the end. No answer. Not even the sound of boots shiing. Just… nothing.

I press my ear to the wood, straining.

Then-

“Sorin!”

It’s the same Omega girl from earlier, voice sharper this time, carrying a thread of panic that makes my stomach drop.

I jerk back like the door just burned me. “What happened? What’s going on?!” My heartbeat is so loud I can barely hear myself.

She doesn’t answer right away, and that’s what sends me pacing. Back and forth across the cramped attic, the boards groaning under my bare feet. My mind’s racing through every possible way Ariel could twist those letters, how she could paint me into the perfect villain with my own handwriting.

My whole body feels too tight, like my skin can’t hold me in. I rake my fingers through my hair, tugging hard enough that my scalp stings.

Think, Sorin. Think.

I spin toward the desk shoved against the wall. It’s half–buried in dust and spiderwebs, but I drop into the chair anyway, coughing when the first drawer I yank open coughs back at me ia puff of stale air. My eyes water, but I keep digging, shoving aside old scraps of parchment and broken quills until my fingers close around a pen. The nib’s a little bent, but it’ll do.

There’s paper at the very back–yellowed at the edges, but blank I smack it against my knee a few times to shake off the dust, ignoring the way it settles in my hair and makes my nose itch.

I start writing. Fast. The words pour out like they’ve been waiting in my veins for this exact moment. My hand cramps, but I don’t stop until the page is full.

When I’m done, I fold it tight and tuck it into my palm. My pulse is pounding so loud I can hear it in my ears.

I push up from the chair, crossing to the door again. “You still out there?” I call, pitching my voice low, controlled.

One of the guards grunts in reply.

“I need my maid.”

“You’ve got food,” he says flatly, like that’s the only reason I could possibly want to see another living soul.

I swallow back the urge to scream. “This isn’t about food. You’ve been here long enough to know I’m not wasting your time with bullshit. I just need her–five minutes. You can stand right here and listen to every word. Hell, chain me to the damn door if it makes you feel safer. But I need her.”

The guard doesn’t bite immediately, and I push harder.

“Two days ago, I was your Luna. You’d take my orders without bnking. I never treated you like less than my own pack, and

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16:31 Sat, Dec 20 G GA

Chapter 10

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you know it. All I’m asking for is one fucking conversation with de girl who risked getting her throat slit just to warn me?

There’s a long pause. A murmur between the guards.

Finally-

“Door open. Where we can see you”

Relief spikes in my chest, sharp and fast. “Fine.” I step back from the door, exhaling through my nose. Door open it is”

The lock clicks, loud in the quiet.

The door swings open and my maid steps in, eyes flicking past me before she bows low enough to almost kiss the floor. Her hair’s tucked neatly under the kerchief, but her hands–small, calloused–move with purpose.

The guards at the door straighten. They’re new enough to obey arders, old enough to remember me as Luna. That hesitation is exactly what I need.

She doesn’t look at me, not directly, but as she kneels to “adjust the blanket” on the bed. Thank you for coming here.” I pat her back and my fingers slide the letter so quickly it could’ve been a trick of the light. Thin paper. Folded twice.

Her voice comes smooth, innocent. “Should I bring you some soup, my lady?” She tilts her head, all doe–eyed to the guards. “You can allow at least that, right?”

The silence drags until one of them clears his throat. “Soup only he says, tone clipped. His jaw’s tight, but I see the tiny flicker of guilt. Another guard nods stiffly.

I keep my face neutral. “Soup will do.”

She rises, gives the smallest nod–barely there–and leaves, her skirts brushing the stone floor. The heavy door slams shut behind her.

I bite the inside of my cheeks, hoping, praying that she’s gonna be able to bring e what I want. I cannot stay cooped up in here any longer. I won’t be able to get out if that’s the case. Ariel could simply go around loitering with my letters and I won’t be able to do anything once she uses that as proof for some infidelity I didn’t do.

It could be used against me. They wouldn’t punish the Alpha King–they won’t be able to. But they will be able to punish me. those letters cannot get out to the public, even if they’re filled with curses to the Alpha King to stop sending me stuff.

The pacing continues. My legs won’t stop moving. Back and forth. My ears are tuned to the faintest sounds, waiting for her

return.

Then, my ste[s stops when I hear a soft thunk.

I freeze. That didn’t come from the door.

It came from the balcony.

My bare feet pad against the cold floor as I cross the room, the air cooler near the stone archway. I push the curtain aside.

Nothing.

I step out, grip the railing, and lean over. Below, the training ground sprawls out–dust kicked up by bodies colliding. weapons clashing. It’s the same sight from earlier, but this time, someone is added up.

Down there, with bare torso and pants is Wade.

As if my gaze dragged his up, he looks right at me.

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