The Lycan King's Wrong Obsession novel Sorin Carter (by Circeleari) novel Chapter 20

Chapter 20

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The air strangles me. My fingers tighten around the sobbing girl Every instinct screams to turn, to look, to confirm that it’s really him–but I don’t.

The crowd reacts before I do. Like a swarm, they surge forward, desperate to glimpse their King. His name rips through the street, a thousand voices chanting, worshiping.

“Your Majesty! Please look this way!”

“Your Majesty! We need help, please!”

“Your Majesty!” Everyone is yelling.

I feel him hesitate. Just for a second. Gravel shifts under his boots, and then–he exhales, annoyed, like the weight of their adoration is nothing but a headache.

And just like that… he turns. His steps retreat. The sharp slam of the carriage door follows, and the wolves instantly rise, resuming their menacing stance.

My knees almost give out from the release of tension. My chest caves with a mix of disappointment and relief so sharp it cuts. I didn’t want him to see me. Not like this. Not broken, hooded, smelling like herbs. But gods, hearing him so close–it fucking hurts.

The wolves growl at me, impatient again, and I glare at them. “Yeah, yeah, I’m leaving. Relax, Lassie.”

The little girl in my arms kicks and shrieks, refusing to budge. Her tantrum echoes louder than the cheers. My back burns, blood soaking through the bandage, but I grit my teeth and haul her toward the side of the road.

Her mother barrels out of the crowd, frantic. She snatches her up kissing her cheeks, scolding and crying all at once. Her eyes flick to me, soft with gratitude. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

I force a small smile. “Keep a tighter leash next time, yeah?”

She nods quickly, clutching her daughter like she’ll never let her go.

I exhale and glance up at the massive clock tower looming over the square. My stomach drops. Shit. I’ve been gone too long If the Omegas notice I’m missing…

I tug my hood lower and limp away, weaving through the buzzing crowd, every step like fire down my spine.

By the time I make it back to the packhouse, chaos reigns. Omegas are running everywhere, arms full of linens, silver trays fresh flowers. The whole building vibrates with tension and preparation. No one notices me slipping through, bloody and half–bent. Perfect.

Until-

The sharp click of shoes against stone.

I freeze. Down the hallway, the head maid prowls like a hawk, barking orders, eyes sharp enough to cut. Marg’s voice flashes through my head-“The head maid will skin you alive if she sees your back wrapped. She thinks injuries are dramatics anyway.”

Yeah. Not my idea of fun.

1 spin on my heel and limp the other way, fast as my spine will let me. A massive door looms ahead, carved with gold inlays I don’t think. I just grab the handle, slip inside, and shut it quietly behind me.

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16:34 Sat, Dec 20 G GA

Chapter 20

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The air here is different–cooler, cleaner. The room’s enormous shadows stretching across expensive furniture, velvet drapes framing tall windows. Definitely not servant territory.

My gut twists. Oh, fuck me sideways.

The head maid’s heels are closer now, echoing outside. No time scan the room, spot a walk–in closet on the left, and dart inside, pulling the door shut just as the hallway falls silent.

It’s dark. Stifling. The scent of cedar and cologne suffocates me. Sweat pricks at the back of my neck. My bandaged spine screams from the sudden crouch, but I stay still, holding my breath.

One minute. Two. Nothing.

I ease closer to the wooden slats, peeking through. The room locks empty-

Until the bathroom door opens.

And my heart plummets.

Alaric walks out.

My jaw actually drops.

He’s bare except for a towel slung low around his hips, water dripping down his chest, tracing over muscles cut so sharp they look fucking illegal. His hair’s wet, pushed back, and the sight of him like this–unguarded, raw–makes my throat go dry.

“Holy shit,” I mouth, slapping a hand over my mouth before the words escape.

My eyes burn, not from tears but from the sheer effort of not blinking. He moves around the room with casual confidence, completely unaware he’s about to kill me with the way his abs flex with each step.

I wipe the drool off my lip with the back of my sleeve. Pathetic.

I shift in the cramped space, and the wood betrays me. A faint creak cracks the silence.

“Fuck.”

Alaric stills.

His head tilts, wolf–sharp. Slowly, he turns toward the closet.

My pulse rockets.

His gaze pins the doors like he already knows I’m here.

And then–he starts walking.

Each step deliberate. Heavy. Predatory.

The sound of his bare feet against the marble floor is the loudest thing I’ve ever heard.

Closer. Closer.

The golden handle gleams as his hand lifts.

I squeeze my eyes shut, lungs locked, every muscle trembling.

And then-

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16:34 Sat, Dec 20 GGA.

Chapter 20

There’s a knock.

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Three sharp raps against the carved oak doors, dragging me straight out of my spiraling thoughts. My lungs seize up like I’ve just been caught doing something criminal.

“Your Highness?” A female voice filters in. Steady, practiced, but hesitant. “Shall I come in and change the sheets?”

My eyes snap to Alaric. He’s standing in front of the closet–no shirt, a towel slung low on his hips, droplets of water still sliding down his chest. His head tilts like he already knows I’m holding my breath inside this suffocating little coffin of wood.

He doesn’t even glance at the door at first. His eyes stay locked on the slats hiding me. The corner of his mouth curves, not quite a smirk, more like he’s amused at how much of a coward I being.

Finally, he answers, voice deep and edged with that lazy dominance that drips straight into my bloodstream.

“Not yet. Give me a moment. I’ll step out, then you can change them.”

There’s a pause. Then a muffled, “Yes, Your Highness.” Footsteps retreat, but I can tell she’s still lingering outside, waiting.

Alaric turns his back to me, tugging a black shirt from the armchair and dragging it on. I can’t help it–my eyes follow the shift of his shoulders, the play of muscle under his skin. The towel drops to the floor, and my brain malfunctions. Heat spikes straight up my neck and I slam my eyes shut like a guilty teenager.

Holy fuck.

When I open them again, he’s already fully dressed, like he knows exactly how fast to move just to torture me. He runs a hand through his damp midnight hair, then grabs his cufflinks, not sparing me another look before striding out the door.

“Come in,” he throws over his shoulder.

The headmaid enters with a quick bow, carrying fresh linens. Alaric pauses in the doorway, and just as he’s about to leave, her voice cuts in.

“Your Highness…” She hesitates, shifting the bundle of sheets in her arms. “Where is the Queen?”

My stomach freefalls.

Alaric stills. His profile is carved from stone, unreadable. But his eyes flicker–sharp, dangerous–and land on the very closet where I’m hiding.

He doesn’t answer her right away. For one horrifying second, I swear he’s going to yank the doors open and drag me out himself.

Then he turns back toward the hall. “I’ll get her back.”

Her breath hitches. She bows lower. “Yes, Your Highness.”

And then he’s gone.

The headmaid sighs, setting the stack of sheets on the bed. She utters something about how the King is so important she does this herself, not leaving it to omegas who might mess it up. Her hands move quickly, tugging and smoothing, practiced and efficient.

I wait until her back is turned before I slide out of the closet, stif from crouching so long. My knees crack, and she whirls around, dropping a pillowcase.

We freeze.

Me, sheepish. Her, glaring like she just caught me crawling out of her daughter’s window.

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16:34 Sat, Dec 20 G GA

Chapter 20

“Hi,” I say, weakly.

Her eyes narrow to slits. “You-”

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Before she can finish, she storms over and smacks me on the an. Not hard, more like an old woman scolding a brat.

“Ow!” I yelp, stumbling back. “What the hell-”

“Pervert!” she hisses in a hushed voice, smacking me again. “Sucking in the King’s room–hiding in closets like some shameless thief! What were you doing in there? Snitting his shirt?”

My mouth drops open. “Are you insane? I wasn’t-”

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