Donna_Sheldon

Three rejections. Three shattered hopes. That was what Layla experienced, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world that craved purity. She was shunned, ostracized, and then sold out like a pawn to the most powerful being alive—the Lycan King. A ruthless ruler with a graveyard of brides, each one holding a chilling whisper of a fate worse than death.

Layla hated him. Hated the way his eyes, cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated the way his touch, a promise of something terrifying, sent chills down her spine.

* * * *

"I hate you!" I yelled, clenching my hand into a fist, my knuckles turning white. 

He heaved a heavy sigh, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "You seem stressed," he stated, closing the book he was reading. I took a step backward as he walked towards me, each step a reminder of the power he had over me. 

It was infuriating.

"Well, lucky you," he said, rolling up his sleeve as he spoke. "I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves." Finally only few inches away from me, he reached out, his fingers brushing against my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine. "The first is a hug..."  His voice dropped to a husky whisper as he leaned in, his warm breath tickling my ear. "And the rest... well, that's 69. What do you say about that?" 

"He's insane," I thought, my heart pounding in my chest so hard I feared it would burst. 

He tilted his head to the side, one of the insufferable things he does whenever he doesn't get a reaction from me, a smirk playing on the side of his lips. "What's the matter, darling?"


~

A DANGEROUS OBSESSION

Will she escape the inferno of his chaos, or succumb to the allure of her own demise?

A haunting tale of obsession, desire, and the blurred lines between love and destruction.


LYCAN KING CASSIAN

I'll devour her from the inside out, fueling the inferno that consumes her every ragged breath. Like oxygen feeding a raging fire, I'll claim every inch of her sweet, fragile body, tracing the curves of her silhouette with scorching precision.

Her skin will flush with anticipation, as my touch ignites a slow-burning fever. Her eyes, dark pools of desire, will plead for mercy, but her lips will whisper my name.

At first, she'll tremble with fear, but it will ignite a burning desire that courses through her veins like liquid fire. And when she's drawn too close to the flame, I'll unleash the pain, heightening her ecstasy with each deliberate stroke.

She'll be the moth to my flame, helpless to resist the allure of the very thing that will destroy her.

A Dangerous Obsession

You see, some people are born unfortunate, and living life knowing you are part of that wretched bunch isn't the most comforting.

But I sometimes ask myself a question: Was I only unfortunate?

I got rejected by my match, sold out by my father, and somehow found myself in a slave auction on the same day. If I look back at the series of things that had happened to me, I can't help but conclude that I'm far worse than being unfortunate.

Cursed by the goddess to live a horrifying life, to never find happiness. To be used and stomped on like a worthless rag.

I held onto the bars of the rusted cage that held me captive. The rancid smell of decay and human waste made even breathing a struggle. My lungs burned with each inhale, and my eyes stung from the constant exposure to filth.

"Don't do that," the low voice of the girl behind me broke the silence. "They hate it when we do that," she added.

I slowly pulled my hands away. I didn't bother to ask her why. Why it mattered if we held onto the bar, why she was telling me that piece of information even though I ignored her when she was wincing in pain a few minutes ago. I didn't ask her why because it didn't matter.

If I knew this would happen, I wouldn't have tried to escape. Dying as the bride of the Lycan King would be way more honorable than dying as a slave in a slave auction.

Why did I think my life could get better?

"Shut up!" I yelled, tears streaming down my eyes. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Why can't you just shut up!"

Why did I even read that selfish letter from my mother? I'm brave! Like hell she knows anything about me. "I'm better off dead," I seethe with gritting teeth.

"I wish it was that easy," she mumbled, and I turned to look at her. Her tears traced a clean path down her bloodied face. "Death would be a blessing compared to being here," she continued. "But we can't die." There was an intense silence before she broke it with a sentence. "They won't allow it."

She gestured towards my hands, her lip quivering as she spoke. "You see that symbol on your hands? It's called a tranquilizer. Whenever we try to kill ourselves, it goes off and we get paralyzed for a couple of days while suffering immense pain." She hesitated before adding. "It's really not worth it."

"What do you mean?" I asked as if trying to deny my reality. "What the fuck do you mean!" I yelled, more tears trailing down my cheeks. "My life is mine! I get to do whatever I want with it! Get it! It's mine."

She stared at me blankly. "You don't seem to get it. Your life isn't yours anymore. You don't get to choose what to do with it. Death is a luxury for us now."

"Watch me," I spat, my voice barely above a whisper. My heart pounded in my chest as I looked around wildly, searching for anything, anything at all that I could use. But the place was barren, a desolate wasteland of concrete and steel.

I tore at my shirt, ripping it into shreds. With trembling hands, I stuffed the torn fabric into my mouth, muffling my screams as I tried to choke myself. Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision. I could feel the tears dripping down my chin, the salt stinging my wounds.

The girl watched me silently, her eyes impassive as ever. I could feel her gaze on me, a cold weight pressing down on my shoulders. I tried harder, squeezing the cloth tighter, but it was no use. My body fought against me, refusing to let me die.

Finally, I gave up. My arms fell to my sides, and I let the cloth drop to the floor. I slumped against the wall, my body shaking with sobs. The girl remained silent, watching me with a blank unreadable expression.

I was trapped. There was no escape, no hope. I was doomed to live in this hell.

I chuckled, a cold humorless sound. If only I didn't chickened out.

CHAPTER 7