The Lycan King's Wrong Obsession novel Sorin Carter (by Circeleari) novel Chapter 84

Chapter 84

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The announcer’s voice cuts off mid–word as though someone yanked the cord straight out of his throat.

Silence drops so hard it feels physical. Heavy. Pressing against my ears.

A winner.

I stand there in the middle of the pit, chest heaving, fingers sticky with blood that isn’t all mine, staring down at Camilla’s body like it might jump up and call bullshit. My legs are shaking–not dramatic shaking, just the kind that comes after adrenaline realizes it’s been working overtime and clocks out without notice.

The barrier hums once. Flickers. Then collapses inward on itself and vanishes.

No shield. No ritual. No protection. The barrier falls as Alaric told me.

The arena is suddenly just stone and sand and thousands of people who don’t know whether to scream or

pray.

Camilla lies twisted at my feet, her wolf half–shifted back, her breathing wet and wrong. Her eyes are open. Wide. Locked on me. There’s blood at the corner of her mouth, bubbling when she inhales. She tries to move and doesn’t get far.

Good.

That thought surprises me with how calm it is.

I don’t feel triumphant. I don’t feel guilty either. Mostly, I feel… blank. Like my body won the fight and forgot to send my brain the memo.

Then I hear it.

Boots hitting sand. Eating distance.

I look up.

Alaric is already airborne, vaulting down from the stands like physics personally offended him. He lands hard enough that the ground jolts, barely stumbles, and then he’s running. Not a measured Alpha stride. Not controlled. It’s ugly and desperate and fast as hell.

Straight at me.

Eris doesn’t whisper. She doesn’t warn.

She surges.

‘Run.’

Not away. ‘Towards him.’

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Chapter 84

W–what is this feeling?

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My body moves before my head catches up. My boots tear through sand as I take off, heart slamming so hard it rattles my ribs. The crowd finally finds its voice behind us–cheers crashing in waves, chaotic and late, like they’re scrambling to pretend they knew how this would end all along.

We meet dead center of the arena.

Alaric doesn’t slow down. He catches me around the waist and lifts me clean off the ground like I weigh nothing. My legs wrap around him on instinct, my hands fisting in his shirt, and then his mouth is on mine.

Hard. Bruising. Real.

There’s no hesitation. No restraint. No care for the thousands of eyes burning into our skin. Our tongues collide and my hands couldn’t help but wrap themselves around his neck.

It’s not romantic. It’s not gentle. It’s a collision. Teeth and breath and heat and the kind of kiss that says you’re here, you’re alive, and I will destroy anyone who tries to change that.

When I pull back, my forehead rests against his, our breathing loud and uneven. His eyes are glowing- amber–gold, feral, stripped bare of every careful mask he wears in public. Mine burn too. I can feel it. Still humming through me, buzzing under my skin like live wire.

The bond slams into place.

Not like a thought. Not like a feeling.

Like pressure.

My chest tightens, heat crawling up my spine, dragging me closer even though I’m already pressed against him. When I lift my hand to his face, my fingers jerk forward faster than I intend, like something inside me is impatient.

I’ve felt a matebond before.

This isn’t that.

That was… connection. Choice. Something that asked.

This demands. nd it demands me to be his.

Alaric’s mouth curves into a smile that’s all relief and hunger and something dangerously close to joy. He shrugs out of his coat and drapes it over my shoulders without breaking eye contact, his hands firm, grounding, staking a claim so blatant it’s almost obscene.

“Mine,” he murmurs against my ear, low and unapologetic. “You did exactly what I knew you would.”

I snort, breathless despite myself. “Next time you know I’m going to nearly die, maybe warn me first.”

His grip tightens like he doesn’t find that funny in the slightest. That’s all he tried to do. “There won’t be a

next time.”

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Chapter 84

That should scare me.

It doesn’t.

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He takes my hand and turns us back toward Camilla. The crowd noise fades again, muffled by the blood rushing in my ears. Camilla’s eyes follow us, panic finally cracking through the arrogance. She tries to shift again and chokes on a scream.

Alaric looks down at her like she’s an inconvenience someone tracked dirt in on his floor.

“You rigged it,” he says flatly. No raised voice. No theatrics. “The elders. The vote. The spectacle. You knew the seat was already hers.”

Camilla’s lips tremble as blood drips out of her mouth. “I–That’s not-”

“Don’t,” he cuts in. Sharp. Final. “I know exactly how many hands you greased and which priests you threatened. You mistook tradition for immunity.”

Her gaze flicks to me. Hate. Fear. Something hollow.

Alaric steps closer. “Try anything like this again,” he continues calmly, “and there will be no arena nor crowds to witness it. You’ll simply stop breathing.”

The way he says it makes my stomach flip. Not because it’s cruel.

Camilla doesn’t cry.

That’s the thing that surprises me.

Her body is wrecked–half–shifted, shaking, blood slicking the sand beneath her—but her eyes stay dry. Wide. Fixed. It’s as if she blinks, she’ll disappear.

Alaric doesn’t give her that mercy.

The hatred rolling off him through the bond is… focused. Clean. Terrifying. It’s not rage flailing in all directions. It’s a blade pointed straight at her throat.

And it slams into something ugly inside me.

Because for a split second, I see it again.

His mouth on hers.

Camilla in his office.

The memory I’ve been trying to bury before fighting.

It doesn’t fit anymore. I could feel his every emotion snd right now, all I could feel is that he’s definitely not someone who feels something for her.

Not with the way he’s standing between her and the world now. Not with the way his body angles toward me

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Chapter 84

even while he’s threatening her. She’s already irrelevant.

My fingers curl tighter around his hand.

Not hard.

Just enough.

Grounding.

He feels it instantly.

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The bond hums, tight and alive, and his head turns just slightly–enough that only I see the shift. The way his shoulders loosen a fraction. The way his breathing evens out.

I’ve got you, the touch says.

That’s all it takes.

He steps back.

Camilla’s breath breaks out of her like she’s been holding it for hours. Guards rush in, hauling her up by the arms. She doesn’t fight them. Just stares at me as they drag her away, her expression hollowing out piece by piece.

Good.

Let it haunt you.

The arena finally loses its mind.

Sound crashes back in–cheers, shouts, the thunder of feet stomping metal stands. My ears ring as Alaric turns us away from it all, already moving, already done with the spectacle.

He doesn’t announce our exit.

He just takes it.

We disappear into the back corridors, stone swallowing noise, heat clinging to my skin. My boots scrape against the floor, sand and blood grinding with every step. My pulse is still everywhere–throat, ears, fingertips.

The prep chamber door slams shut behind us.

Silence.

Not peaceful.

Loaded.

The room feels smaller than it did before. Lower ceiling. Closer walls. The air is thick with sweat and iron and

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Chapter 84

adrenaline that hasn’t figured out where to go yet.

Alaric turns.

The bond spikes so hard my knees almost buckle.

ཏི

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It’s not emotion–it’s need. Physical. Immediate. Unfiltered. Like his body has been holding itself back on sheer discipline and it finally snapped.

“Fuck,” I mutter, half a breath, half a laugh. “You look unhinged.”

His mouth twitches. Barely.

Then he’s on me.

No warning. No softness. His hands grip my waist and he lifts me like I’m nothing, sets me down hard on the prep table. Metal rattles beneath me. Cold against my thighs. His body cages me in, heat pressing everywhere.

His mouth crashes into mine.

It’s brutal. Messy. Teeth clashing, breath stolen. His kiss tastes like smoke and blood and victory. His hands slide up my arms, pinning my wrists above my head–not crushing, just there. Present. Unmovable.

I kiss him back just as hard, dragging my teeth along his lower lip. He growls into my mouth, low and dangerous, the sound vibrating straight through my chest.

I break away, gasping.

“Alaric,” I pant. “I’m covered in sand and blood and probably someone else’s-”

“I know,” he says instantly.

His mouth drops to my jaw. My throat. He doesn’t kiss gently. He presses. Claims. His breath is hot against my

skin.

“I don’t give a shit,” he murmurs. “I’d lick it all off.”

I snort despite myself. “You’re disgusting.”

His lips curl against my skin. “You’re still here.”

That shuts me up.

The words land heavy. Real.

My fingers dig into his shoulders. The bond thrums, tight and wild, demanding more than either of us should give right now.

We’re seconds from losing it completely-

The door swings open.

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Chapter 84

“HOLY SH-”

Cassian freezes. Dead stop.

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His eyes flick from me–on the table, flushed, breathless–to Alaric, who looks like he’s deciding whether murder is still on the agenda today.

There’s a long, painful beat.

Cassian clears his throat.

“… Congrats on the win,” he says weakly.

Then he backs out.

Slowly.

Maintaining eye contact like this is a feral animal situation.

The door clicks shut.

I laugh. It slips out before I can stop it. Quiet. Breathless. A little hysterical.

“Is the competition finally over?” I ask.

Alaric exhales, resting his forehead against mine. “It never should’ve happened.”

We lean back in and-“Ah!”

And my head explodes. White–hot pain detonates behind my eyes. I gasp, hands flying up as my vision fractures.

The room drops out.

I’m thirteen again.

Small. Barefoot. I’m back on the same flash of memory I saw when I was training yesterday. It’s this exact

same spot.

The balcony door is cracked open. I shouldn’t be here as I have been in yesterday. I know that. My heart is hammering as I peer through-

A laugh.

A boy. Older than me. A man beside him. I step back too fast.

The plant shatters behind me and the two of them turn.

The boy’s face stays wrong–blurred, unreachable–but I know him. Rage surges out of me, sharp and hysterical.

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Chapter 84

“It’s you!” I scream. “This is your fault!”

Then-

I’m back.

A 68

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I collapse forward, choking on air, hands gripping the edge of the table. My ears ring. My stomach flips.

“Sorin.”

Alaric is there instantly. Hands on my shoulders. Solid. Real.

“What happened?” His voice is tight, scanning me like I’m bleeding somewhere he can’t see. “Are you hurt?”

I shake my head too fast. “No. Just–nothing. It’s nothing.”

Lie.

He knows it.

He doesn’t push. That’s worse.

He looks around the room, jaw flexing. “This place feels suffocating.”

My pulse stutters.

“We should leave,” he says quietly. Then, almost casual–too casual–he adds, “We should go on a vacation.”

I blink at him.

“What?”

His eyes meet mine. Gold. Steady. Dangerous.

“Just us,” he says. “Before everything catches up.”

The bond tightens.

And for the first time since the arena, I don’t know if running sounds like relief-

Or the start of something I’m not ready to face.