The Lycan King's Wrong Obsession novel Sorin Carter (by Circeleari) novel Chapter 22

“Fuck,” I murmur to myself as I snap the notebook shut so fast the pen almost splinters in my grip. My heart is a fucking drum in my chest as I get off the bench and creep toward the balcony doors.

The footsteps echo closer, heavy as it is familiar, like they own every inch of this place. Of course they do. This isn’t just anyone wandering the hall–my gut already knows.

I peck. Just enough to let the moonlight stretch down the corridor and show me who really is out there.

And fuck.

It’s him.

Alaric Hayes. The Alpha King himself.

Not dressed in his pristine black suits or sharp uniforms. No. He’s in nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants, loose on his hips, his torso bare and carved like something you’d want to bite just to see if it tastes as good as it looks. Broad shoulders, abs cut into brutal lines, veins trailing down his forearms like a map you’d get lost in.

My stomach twists. I hate myself for even noticing.

His head is tilted, amber–gold eyes glowing faintly in the dark, his body tense like a predator following a trail. He’s listening, searching. For me.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I stumble back from the doorway, pressing myself into the shadow of the balcony wall, clutching the notebook to my chest so tight it creases the cover. My breath is shallow, ragged, and loud enough that I want to strangle myself.

Do I let him see me?

The thought crashes through my skull. It’s cruel and tempting.

What would he see? Not Sorin Carter, Luna of the Woodridge Pack, the woman who once stood tall and commanded rooms. No. He’d see a disgraced maid in a wrinkled skirt, skin marred with scars, stinking faintly of ointments that reek like death. He’d see nothing worth chasing. Nothing worth his obsession.

Maybe it’s better if he keeps thinking I’m dead.

At least then, in his memory, I’d still be someone. Not this.

I spin on my heel, gripping my skirt so hard the seams dig into my palm, and run down the opposite corridor. The shadows swallow me whole, the old stone floors cold under my bare feet.

Behind me, his voice erupts.

“Sorin.”

The sound stops me mid–step. Just one word–my name. Torn out of him like it costs him everything.

I squeeze my eyes shut, willing my legs to move again.

“Don’t do this.” His voice grows louder, closer, rough around the edges. “Tell me I’m not losing my fucking mind. Come out. Just–say something.”

My throat burns, but I don’t. I can’t.

1/5

O

<

16:35 Sat, Dec 20 G GA

Chapter 22

If I speak, it’s over.

68%

55 vouchers

I force myself to run again, faster, weaving through the maze of harrow halls I’ve memorized in secret. His footsteps echo behind me, steady, faster now. He’s chasing. Of course he is. He always been relentless.

My lungs are on fire when I finally slip into the Omega quarters The room reeks of sweat and mold, bodies tangled in thin sheets, snores filling the air. I dart to my bunk, fling myself onto the mattress, and roll to the side, facing the wall. Eyes closed. Breathing heavy, but I try to match it to the rhythm of sleep.

The door slams open.

Gasps explode around the room as light spills in from the hall.

1 keep my face turned away, nails digging crescents into my pal beneath the blanket. My pulse is so loud I’m sure he’ll hear

1. it.

“Sorin?” His voice is hoarse now, desperate, as if saying my name alone might summon me out of thin air.

No one answers.

Sheets rustle as the Omegas sit up, confused and wide–eyed. Whispers scatter like flies.

The King. In our quarters. In the middle of the night.

He steps further in, the boards creaking under his weight. My whole body goes rigid when the air shifts, colder, sharper–the moment his gaze sweeps over me. I feel it like claws dragging down my spine.

But he doesn’t move closer.

Instead, his face hardens, his mask snapping into place. His jaw ticks, his hands curl into fists, then loosen. Finally, his voice comes low, clipped, like ice shattering.

“My apologies.”

He turns and walks out, shutting the door behind him.

The room erupts.

“Why would the King come here?” one whispers, breathless.

“Did you see his face? He looked… panicked.”

“No, he was furious. Did someone do something?”

“Gods, what if he’s looking for a girl to sleep with?”

I bite my cheek so hard I taste iron.

Careful, Sorin. Don’t break now.

I slide the notebook out from under the blanket, the pen tucked into the spine. My hand shakes as I scribble across the page, the lyrics coming back in pieces, jagged but whole enough.

One line sticks, catching fire as the whispers around me blur int noise.

“Golden man, don’t lose your way–she’s closer than you think”

I stare at it until the words stop moving. Then–just barely–1 lenyself smile.

2/5

|||

O

r

16:35 Sat, Dec 20 G GA.

Chapter 29

The only one smiling in a room full of gossiping Omegas

* 68%

55 vouchers

Morning comes with that gnawing ache under my skin again–the kind that makes my bones feel too tight, like they’ll snap if I don’t let Mia out. It’s been days since she stretched her legs. She’s clawing at me, restless, angry, wild.

“I need to go.” I mutter to Tully and Marg as I shove past them in the kitchen. The smell of breakfast doesn’t even tempt me. my stomach twisting with something else entirely. “Cover for me if anyone asks. Tell them I’m–fuck, I don’t know–sick. sleeping, painting. Just make something up.”

Marg frowns, already catching on. “Your wolf?”

“Yeah.” My voice comes out rough. I don’t even wait for her reply before I’m already heading out the back door, feet slapping against the cold stone steps, nightdress clinging to my damp skin from the fever breaking out of me.

The forest looms behind the estate, a thick wall of trees swaying under the early sun. Dew clings to the grass, soaking my ankles as I cut across the yard and slip into the tree line. The second I’m hidden, I rip the damn dress over my head, skin prickling against the chill morning air.

I shut my eyes. Mia.

Her name vibrates inside me, a low thrum against my ribs,

The first crack hits. My knees buckle as the bones twist, skin stretching, tendons pulling like wires about to snap. My fingers curl into claws, nails ripping into the dirt. A groan rips from my throat, half–human, half–snarled. I can feel her, pushing through, dragging herself out of me with brutal, unrelenting force.

Spine first–always the fucking spine. It arches, vertebrae cracking one after the other, sharp lightning bolts of pain lancing up my back. My jaw unhinges, teeth splitting into sharper fangs. My chest collapses and expands again, fur rushing over my skin like wildfire.

And then–silence. A heartbeat of stillness.

I open my eyes, but they’re not mine anymore. Mia takes the reins, silver fur gleaming in the broken sunlight filtering through the trees. She doesn’t hesitate–she runs.

The ground blurs beneath us, paws slamming into damp soil, carrying us deeper and deeper into the woods. Wind whips past, cars flicking to every sound, every shift of branches, every heartbeat of prey scattering at our approach.

She’s alive. We’re alive.

For a moment, there’s almost joy. Until the memory slices through me–last time Mia was free, we were running for our fucking lives. Edith’s scream still echoes in my head. Her bloodil face, the way she shoved me forward when the rogues closed in.

Mia slows, chest heaving, grief bleeding into our shared mind.

We should’ve avenged her by now.

Yeah. But how? I can’t even show my face in Woodridge. Not as heir disgraced Omega. I clench down on the thought, shove it away.

That’s when Mia stops.

Her ears flick up, muscles locking. She sniff’s the air, sharp, quick like something’s wrong.

“What?” I whisper inside her mind, already scanning through he eyes.

3/5

16:35 Sat, Dec 20 G GA

Chapter 22

The air is thicker here. Fog coils through the trees, the exact kind that clung to me the right i studded into Ala’s last the first time. My stomach twists. We’re too close to the border

Go back, I tell her. My pulse is spiking, Mia, turn around. Now

But then–movement.

The brown wolf lunges out of the fog like a demon, red eyes blazing, teeth snapping for our throat.

Mia reacts instantly, throwing us sideways. Dirt sprays up under our paws as the snarls, cirding fur bristling. The rogue’s bigger, heavier, his stink filling the clearing

He lunges again. Mia ducks low, raking claws across his chest, but he barely flinches. He snaps at her hind leg and I feel the searing pain explode up my thigh.

Fuck–he’s strong-

Mia bares her fangs, lunges, slamming her weight into his side. They roll, teeth tearing, fur flying blood hot and metallic in my mouth. I can feel her body weakening every hit making her tumble harder.

The rogue pins us, snarling, teeth flashing above our throat We’re done. This is it

I shut my eyes.

But the bite never comes.

Instead a roar–deep, guttural, enough to rattle the earth–splits through the clearing. The weight vanishes of me in a biz of black fur and teeth.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify