The Lycan King's Wrong Obsession novel Sorin Carter (by Circeleari) novel Chapter 14

Chapter 14

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“Ariel?” Wade calls with sincerity in his voice, waiting for it to break. “We have no teleportation spells or such witchcraft, Your Majesty.” Wade turns to the King and apologizes.

He then looks at his own fiancee who I suppose don’t have any fention to answer right now.

Not immediately, anyway. She’s still standing there, rigid as a cose, her mouth is twitching like she’s searching for a way to wriggle out of Alaric’s trap without choking on her own bullshit

The crowd eats the silence alive. You can feel it–shoulders leang closer together, murmurs turning into low hisses, the kind of restless energy people get when they smell blood in the water and want the kill shot.

Alaric tilts his head, slow, the way a wolf might when it’s deciding whether to toy with its prey or rip its throat out.

“It’s not possible, isn’t it?” his voice drips mockery, “…are you saying you were coming home from the war every few days just to answer my letters?”

Ariel’s lips part, and nothing comes out but a dry click of her tongue.

He doesn’t even give her space to breathe. “Because here’s what wondering.” He takes a measured step forward, boots clicking against the marble platform like a goddamn metronom for her panic. “I sent every single raven to the west tower of this packhouse. And when you gave me that charming little tour of your home“-his mouth twitches in something too sharp to be a smile-“you made a point to tell me your room was in the cast wing. With Alpha Wade.”

He lets the weight of it hang. Then he turns, deliberately, toward Wade.

“Which is interesting,” Alaric says, “because… whose quarters are in the west tower?”

The silence before Wade answers feels like someone’s pulling the air out of the room. His brows pull together, jaw flexing. “That’s… impossible,” he says slowly. “The west tower was-” H eyes widen, his voice stalling out as the gears in his head grind together. “Sorin’s quarters.”

My chest goes tight. The room tilts, or maybe that’s just my body remembering how to brace for impact.

The murmur that rolls through the crowd this time isn’t cautiou–it’s an eruption.

“The King’s pen pal was the former Luna Sorin?”

“Not Luna Ariel?”

“But she made such a show of it—”

“I heard the letters were romantic. Scandalous, even.”

Some laugh, low and cruel. Others look around like they’ve just een handed a better story than the one they came here for. I can feel eyes dragging over me, even from under the hood. It fels as if they can see me when they couldn’t.

Alaric just stands there, drinking it in like the smug bastard he is He doesn’t even hide it—he’s enjoying watching her burn, which to be honest, I wouldn’t even blame him for. This isn’t even about revenge for me. She deliberately lied to him thinking he’s an idiot.

Alaric Hayes is far from an idiot. I’ve seen that over a couple of months. He’s selfish to the brink of insanity. He would do anything–no matter how brutal–to get what he wants.

Ariel’s mask is cracking so fast I can almost hear the splintering, she’s blinking too fast, swallowing too hard, fighting to keep the panic out of her voice. But the damage is done.

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16:31 Sat, Dec 20 G GA

Chapter 14.

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The space between us turns dangerous when the crowd swells forward, bodies jostling as the gossip turns into physical curiosity.

Someone bumps into me hard from behind, and before I can step aside, a second shove sends me stumbling forward. “Ah!” I shriek as my knees hit the stone floor with a dull crack, the impact vibrating all the way up my spine.

The room stutters–just enough people see it happen to make it matter. Heads turn. Attention pivots like a spotlight.

“Who’s that?”

“Looks like a beggar–what the hell are they doing in here?”

Perfect. Just perfect.

Ariel’s quick to pounce on the opening, her voice sharp and high “Who let this in here?” She moves toward me like a predator that just found an easier target, her skirts swishing against the floor as she points in my direction.

She;s trying to change the attention from her to an intrusive beggar, “Ruining the ceremony with your filthy-”

Her hand clamps around my upper arm. The strength in her gri surprises me–not enough to hurt, but enough to tell me she’s riding the high of trying to reassert control.

I keep my head down, hood shadowing my face, letting her yank me upright.

“Come on then,” she snaps, dragging me forward. “Let’s see who you are so we can punish you properly.” Her tone turns sugary for the crowd. “Apologies, Your Highness. Let me deal with this intrusion-”

Her fingers hook into the edge of my hood before I can stop her

The fabric pulls back. Cold air hits my face.

Ariel freezes.

For half a heartbeat, the only sound is the faint rustle of fabric settling back into place around my shoulders. Then her grip slips, her hand falling away like she’s touched something diseased.

“Sorin?” she breathes, just loud enough for the first row of spectators to hear.

It’s like she just dropped a live wire into the crowd. Gasps snap through the air.

“That’s the former Luna-”

“I thought she was exiled-”

“Didn’t they say she was-”

Ariel takes a stumbling step back, her face draining to a sickly shade. She wasn’t ready for this. Hell, I wasn’t ready for this.

And now every single pair of eyes in this room is locked on me.

Wade’s gaze pins me in place the second Ariel’s laugh dies out. Is not loud enough to draw more eyes, but it’s sharp enough that the people closest to us still turn their heads. My eyes find Alaric’s first who winls at me as though expecting a thank you for what he’s done and I grimace at him.

The bastard,

“How–how did you-” Ariel seems as though she’s losing her to gue. A sigh leaves my lips, “I escaped, alright.” I mutter out of boredom. I turn to another pair of eyes who seem as if they’re eager to know the truth.

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16:31 Sat, Dec 20 G GA

Chapter 14

Wade.

“All this time… His voice is low, a thin wire of control stretched tight. “And you never said a word to me”

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The hurt in it doesn’t sound like a jealous lover–it sounds like a man realizing the woman he thought he knew had a whole other world he was never part of.

I straighten, keeping my spine locked and my hands still at my sles as I stare straight into his eyes with no remorse. “It was never your business.” I reply.

I watch the words hit him. His jaw works once before he turns away, like he’s chewing on something bitter. He isn’t going to swallow it easily.

Ariel steps in before the silence gets too heavy, a laugh spilling out of her like she’s already bored. “Oh, please. I asked Sorin to screen the letters for me during the war. I didn’t have time for ”

“She’s lying.”

The interruption doesn’t come from me.

Alaric’s voice cuts clean through the air, smooth but carrying the kind of weight that makes people stop mid–breath. He’s still leaning in his seat, broad shoulders relaxed, but the focus in his eyes could gut a man.

“She could only have written those answers if she’d seen me herself,” he says lazily, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Things I told her that I’ve never said to another living soul.”

Ariel’s face tightens, her painted smile slipping. “I—”

“You told me,” Alaric goes on, eyes locked on her, “that your favorite place to watch the sunrise was the cliff by the river in Woodridge. The exact one with the oak split down the middle. Funny thing is, that’s Sorin’s sketch in my study. Right down to the missing branch on the left side.”

Murmurs roll through the crowd, picking up steam.

“That’s not ” Ariel tries again, but the smirk tugging at Alaric’s mouth is too slow, too confident.

“And you claimed you remembered my tea preference.” His gaze flicks to the table beside him. “But you brought me black. My darling Sorin here knows I drink white jasmine. She always has.”

Yeah, fucking bastard always visits. I’m forced to give him hospitality simply because he’s the King. What I can’t believe right now is that Ariel has long planned to do this?

To reveal she’s the one who’s supposedly written the letters? Given that she’s already shown tons of hints towards Alaric.

Wow, she must have really thought of him as a fool.

The laughter starts as a ripple, sharp and mean, until it swells into something Ariel can’t talk over. Her eyes flash, a perfect storm of humiliation and rage.

“I don’t have to stand here and listen to this,” she snaps, shoving past Wade, nails digging into his arm.

“Let go.” Wade’s voice is flat, and when she jerks to tug him along he stays put. The refusal is public. Painfully public.

Ariel’s nostrils flare before she storms away, spine stiff and chinigh, pretending she isn’t being eaten alive by whispers.

The crowd’s attention pivots back to me. There’s a new kind of look in their eyes now–curiosity wrapped in speculation, with a hint of envy that feels like a hot needle on my skin. Some of them seem almost… impressed. Others look at me like I’ve just stolen something they wanted for themselves.

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