The Lycan King's Wrong Obsession novel Sorin Carter (by Circeleari) novel Chapter 90

Chapter 90

F:.

Alaric’s hand landed on my shoulder, and holy shit, the temperature in this sweaty–ass nightclub just dropped about twenty degrees. His touch wasn’t gentle–it was the kind of barely–restrained violence that made my pulse spike in all the wron–or right, depending on your perspective–ways.

The music pounded. The lights flashed. Bodies pressed in from all sides.

And I smiled wider.

The boyfriend–let’s call him Chad because he definitely looked like a fucking Chad–puffed up even more, which was genuinely impressive considering he was already at maximum peacock display. His friends crowded closer, feeding off each other’s liquid courage like the evolutionary mistake they were.

Tessa grabbed my arm, her grip tight enough to bruise if I were human. “Sorin, come on. This is stupid. Let’s just go.”

I didn’t even look at her. “Nah, I’m good here.”

“You’re drunk and you’re about to start a fight in a crowded nightclub-

“Correction: I’m about to finish a fight in a crowded nightclub.” I finally glanced at her, noting the professional concern warring with the very real desire to let me handle my own shit. “There’s a difference.”

“You can’t just “Tessa lowered her voice, leaning in close enough that I could hear her over the bass. “What do you want me to do, Sorin? Watch as he dies? You guys are werewolves!”

“And they’re a bitch,” I said sweetly, gesturing to the blonde who was still clinging to Chad’s arm like a designer

accessory.

Alaric’s laugh was low and dark behind me, vibrating through his chest in a way that made my spine tingle. Yeah, he was definitely enjoying this.

I turned my attention back to the blonde, who was starting to look less confident and more concerned about her increasingly poor life choices. “Did you think you were gonna be the only one who has a boyfriend?” 1 purred, reaching back to thread my fingers through Alaric’s hair.

He went perfectly still under my touch, the kind of predatory stillness that meant he was letting me play. For

now.

I tugged him closer, using my grip on his hair to turn his head, and kissed him. Not sweet. Not gentle. Raw and claiming and absolutely filthy, the kind of kiss that should probably have gotten us kicked out of this establishment if the bouncers gave a single fuck about public decency,

The best part? I kept my eyes open just long enough to see the blonde’s face turn an absolutely delicious shade of crimson.

When I finally pulled back–only because I needed to breathe, sadly–I kept my hand in Alaric’s hair and turned to find Chad’s reaction.

Oh. Oh, this was beautiful.

12:09 Mon, Jan 19

Chapter 90

55 vouchers

Chad was staring. Not at his girlfriend. Not at the impending violence. No, this absolute specimen of modern masculinity was staring at us with his mouth slightly open and a very, very obvious problem tenting his jeans.

Alaric saw it at the same time I did. The growl that rumbled out of him was pure territorial threat, the kind that made every instinct in my body sit up and pay attention.

“Hush now,” I murmured, stroking his jaw like he was a good boy who just needed to calm down. “It’s okay”

I turned back to the blonde, whose face had progressed from red to an almost purple shade of mortified fury. “Oh my,” I said, voice dripping with false sympathy. “Your boyfriend seems… interested in us.”

The crowd around us had gone from casually interested to actively invested, phones coming out, people jostling for better views. Nothing like a good old–fashioned nightclub drama to liven up a Saturday night.

“What the fuck,” the blonde hissed, and honestly, fair reaction.

I looked at Chad again, making sure everyone nearby could follow my gaze. “I mean, I get it. We’re very attractive. But that’s just ” I gestured vaguely at his crotch, “-that’s just sad, buddy.”

“Fuck you!” Chad exploded, probably more at me pointing it out than the actual situation. His face was scarlet now, matching his girlfriend’s. “I wasn’t—you fucking—”

“Babe!” The blonde’s voice cracked with embarrassment and rage. She grabbed his arm, shaking it. “Are you serious right now?”

“I’m not–it’s not ” Chad sputtered, toxic masculinity and shame doing an absolutely fascinating tango across his features.

The blonde’s eyes went shiny with humiliated tears, and instead of doing the sensible thing, like, I don’t know, leaving, she doubled down. Because of course she did.

“Punch him,” she demanded, pointing at Alaric. “Babe, fucking punch him!”

Oh good. We were really doing this.

Chad looked between his girlfriend and Alaric, and I could literally see the moment his brain–all three cells of it–decided that physical violence would somehow restore his damaged pride.

He swung.

It was honestly kind of pathetic. Slow, telegraphed, the kind of punch thrown by someone who’d watched too many action movies and thought that’s how real fights worked.

Alaric didn’t even look like he tried. He just… moved. Minimal effort, maximum efficiency, catching Chad’s fist mid–air and holding it there like it weighed nothing.

The music pounded. The crowd pressed closer. Someone whooped.

I stepped away from Alaric and Chad, deliberately giving them space, and closed in on the blonde instead. She tried to back up but there were too many people, too many bodies packed in tight, and I was faster.

12:09 Mon, Jan 19

Chapter 90

220

12 55 vouchers

“Hi,” I said, twirling a lock of her bleached hair around my finger like we were best friends sharing secrets at a sleepover. “Let’s play a game.”

“Get the fuck away from me-”

“The rules are simple,” I continued, pitching my voice low and intimate. I’m going to count to three. When I say three, you leave. Just turn around and walk away.”

She stared at me like I’d lost my fucking mind. “What the hell are you-

“One,” I said.

Behind me, I heard the very specific sound of Alaric tightening his grip. Chad gasped, and then-

Crack.

The sound of bone giving way was audible even over the bass line, a wet crunch that made several people in the crowd go “oh shit” in various tones of horror and excitement.

Chad screamed. High and shrill and absolutely fucking pathetic.

“Two,” I said, keeping my eyes locked on the blonde’s.

She finally understood. I watched the realization dawn across her face–that this wasn’t posturing, wasn’t a threat, was very much actually happening to her boyfriend behind me.

Alaric moved methodically up Chad’s arm. Another crack, clean and efficient, and Chad’s scream went up another octave.

The blonde bolted.

She didn’t look back, didn’t try to help her boyfriend, just shoved through the crowd like her ass was on fire and disappeared toward the exit like a cockroach when the lights come on, and honestly? Good for her. Self- preservation was apparently the only functional brain cell she possessed tonight.

I turned back to Chad, who was still held in Alaric’s grip like a particularly pathetic chew toy. His face was a fascinating palette of pain and shock, tears cutting tracks through his foundation of toxic masculinity and cheap cologne.

“Oh no,” I said, my voice dripping with mock sympathy as I stepped closer. “Your girlfriend left you here. All alone.”

He whimpered. Actually fucking whimpered.

I reached out and cupped his face between my hands, forcing his glazed eyes up to meet mine. His pupils were blown wide with pain and fear, and something in me–something ancient and hungry and absolutely not human–purred at the power imbalance.

“Why don’t you break up with her?” I murmured, letting my voice drop into that soft, invasive register that bypassed logic and went straight for the brainstem.

12.09 Mon, Jan 19

Chapter 90

It wasn’t come wave, whow I was drang Mow Av influence that made fwwww very, very mallow

Миних Мини ww you aww how to

the usere she de wet theour paper, and I wanted his express yo gesery and Gazed, 10 jou goed for bedsted

ever heard

He nodded dowly, a reverently “Yed you, I don

Alaric’s hand clamped down on my shoulder and yanked me brown, she

Chad. The movement was on sudden wwwded, and authenly’s was present, and has

iron band across my wal

says with

“The fuck do you think you’re doing? its soice was a low growing but my spine in a way that was definitely new helping my curent date of recent aberstice

not

his

Chad Minked like he’d just woken up from a dream be conhet gise remerker. He wored to shattered arm, the reality of broken bones and probable booyed bills cracking back and the horror the flooded his face was almon

He stumbled away, cradling the ruined links, and dragyees saro the cared deer his verride giffinest

Alaric turned me to face him, his hands on my shoulders, his eyes wercking my face with asimetry that made my skin prickle. “Are you drunk?

I blinked up at him, trying to focus on tits face invread of the three slightly blurry versions of it. No I’m on

I said I’m not, I insisted, which was a blatant fucking, lie and we both knew it The world was doing this fun tilting thing, and the bass from the music seemed to be coming from inside my skill

And then I saw her.

Camilla,

Standing at the edge of the dance floor like a ghost, like a hallucination, like a very unwelcome reminder that my past had teeth and knew exactly where to bite.

Why is she fucking, everywhere?

She didn’t say anything and turned and walked toward the exit, her movements are unhurried as though she knew I’d follow

Puck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Tessa,” I said, my voice coming out sharper than I intended as I spun to find her in the crowd. She was already at my elbow, her cop instincts clearly screaming at her to get us the hell out before the authorities showed up. “Distract Alaric

“What? Sorin, we need to-

“Just do it!” I shoved past her, already moving, my head pounding in rhythm with the music and my own

12:09 Mon, Jan 19

Chapter 90

terrible decision–making.

F:

2200

EX 55 wuchert

The crowd was a living obstacle course of sweaty bodies and spilled drinks. I pushed through, my vision swimming, the lights strobing in a way that made everything feel disconnected and surreal.

Someone grabbed my arm.

I stumbled, and suddenly there were hands–too many fucking hands–catching me, holding me upright, fingers sliding over my waist and arms under the pretense of helping me stand.

“Whoa there, sweetheart, you okay?”

“Easy, we got you—”

The smell of beer and desperation made my stomach turn. These fucking vultures saw a drunk girl stumbling and thought they’d won the jackpot.

“Get the fuck off me,” I snarled, shoving with enough force that the closest guy actually went flying backward into his friends. They all looked shocked, they couldn’t compute how someone my size had just sent a grown man sprawling.

I didn’t wait for their brain cells to catch up. I kept moving, kept pushing through the crowd, following the ghost of Camilla’s retreating form through the exit and into the corridor beyond.

The sudden absence of music was almost physical. My ears rang in the comparative silence, and the cool air hit my overheated skin like a slap.

I found the stairs. Started climbing. My legs felt like they were made of rubber and bad decisions, but I kept going, up and up, following some magnetic pull that I knew was leading me exactly where I shouldn’t go.

The rooftop door was already open.

Of course it was.

I pushed through and stumbled onto the roof, the night air hitting me like a bucket of ice water. The city sprawled below us, lights twinkling like they gave a shit about the drama unfolding up here.

And there, at the far edge of the rooftop, silhouetted against the skyline, was Camilla.

“There’s no turning back now,” she said without turning around, her voice carrying easily across the empty space.

I stopped, swaying slightly, my heart hammering against my ribs. The alcohol was still singing through my veins, but something sharper was cutting through the haze–something that felt a lot like fear.

Camilla turned to face me, and even in the dim light, I could see the expression on her face. Not anger. Not triumph. Just… certainty.

“Are you happy?” she asked.

The question hit me and I laughed, the sound cracking and bitter. “Of course I am. I beat you, didn’t I?”

12:09 Mon, Jan 19

Chapter 90

It came out more defensive than I’d intended, more desperate, and we both heard it.

2

ร

55 vouchers

Camilla didn’t react. Didn’t smile, didn’t flinch, just watched me with those too–knowing eyes that had always seen straight through my bullshit.

“Would you still be,” she said, each word landing like a stone, “if you knew the truth about your father’s death?”

The world stopped.

Everything–the sounds of the city below, the pounding in my head, the alcohol singing through my blood- all of it just fucking stopped.

My father. The flashes of memory I couldn’t piece together, fragments of a child’s perspective that never quite made sense. Blood and screaming and hands that should have protected me but didn’t. The official story that never quite added up. The questions that everyone refused to answer.

The truth I’d been chasing since I was old enough to understand that I’d been lied to.

The air left my lungs in a rush. The alcohol haze evaporated like it had never existed, leaving behind a clarity so sharp it hurt.

“What?” I whispered.

Camilla stepped closer, and in the moonlight, her expression was almost pitying.

“What would you do if it had been your mate who sent your father to die?”