His Dark Obsession

ZEDKIEL.

Her eyes widened with horror as she shook her head, her heart pounding violently.

"Please no! I'm sorry! I won't run, don't h-hurt th-them!”

She seemed to care far more for those who discarded her than they had for her.

I was done with this conversation. Turning away, I stormed out of the room and headed out of my quarters for a little air that was not clouded with her scent. Her rejection was only adding to the burning furnace within me. The truth was, there was something about her that intrigued me from the moment she was unable to look away from me, unlike everyone there at the ball she didn't even lower her head in respect. But her eyes had held fear just like the rest of them

Fools.

I walked through the dark stone walls of the castle, my footsteps echoing in the silence.

Sinclair Welhaven... His arrogance from dinner flashed through my mind, making my anger only rise. I wouldn't mind tearing him to shreds for his disrespect.

(FLASHBACK — EARLIER AT DINNER)

"It's a pleasure to dine with the heirs to the throne, and I'm sure whoever is chosen to be king will be deserving,” Sinclair remarked.

Ragnar smirked, "Of course.”

The table I was seated at held the future Alphas to all six packs, save the Night Dust pack, which was still without an Alpha heir.

"There are rumours saying it will be put to the people, a contest of some sort?" Darvin Flint, future Alpha of the Moonshine pack added.

"Then, may the best man win." Sinclair declared raising his glass.

"To the future, and rightful ruler.” Chasyn added, raising his glass.

I scoffed, refusing to join in their petty toast.

If it was going to go to the people, then they could easily be bought.

"Will you not join us, Prince Zedkiel?" Sinclair remarked.

Raising my eyebrow, I downed my glass and placed it down. I ignored him, but it was obvious he wasn't going to let the conversation go, because even after they clinked their glasses, drinking to their petty toasts his eyes remained on me.

He put his glass down and chuckled lightly. "I understand the topic must be hard for you, Prince Zedkiel, when the majority assumed you would be given the sign of future ruler in the Chamber of Sight. It's a shame it wasn't so, but alas, we can’t change these divine decisions. The one most fit will be king."

Blistering anger festered inside of me, and my grip on the glass tightened, shattering it. Startling the women at the table. I clenched my fist, letting the glass shards cut into my palm.

A tense silence followed as Jeremiah warned Sinclair to fall silent, but the damage had been done. He mentioned my Blood Ritual...

The Vilkas family were not werewolves but Lycans, and as alpha heirs, all sons of the king are made to take part in a blood ritual on the night of our eighteenth birthday. A ritual that takes place within the Chamber of Sight, a place located deep beneath the castle, and only the royals may enter, anyone else who steps foot in it ends up dead. Within the Chamber was an opening that showed the moon shining down upon the Lake of Truth. There, we were shown our future path, a path only we knew of and one that we were encouraged to keep to ourselves.

However, when the next king is chosen, the moon's glow brightens, bathing the city in white light for a few moments... The king had expected I'd be the next chosen one because despite what I was, I was the strongest. Yet the night of my ritual...

Scoffing, I didn’t pay him any attention while watching my hand heal; only after that did I turn to the man who dared mock me...

(END OF FLASHBACK)

"Zedkiel." I was brought from my thoughts by the booming voice of my father, a man who held a lot of power, yet he was still beneath me in terms of true strength.

Slowing down, I looked at my father, raising an eyebrow.

A response that clearly agitated him. "Zedkiel, what you did today... was dangerous.”

The sound of approaching footsteps made him go silent, and the three Omegas bowed their heads as they hurried past, holding bundles of laundry. That was the one thing that irked me about omegas, they weren't easily noticeable.

Apart from her, her scent was delectable, as sweet as I'm sure she'd taste...

"Zedkiel, are you listening to me!" Ambrose growled in a desperate hiss, as he cast a glance down the hall.

I cocked my brow and slipped my hands into my pockets. "I am, although if you keep blabbering, I'll move on. Whatever you want to say, get it over with.”

He exhaled sharply, his eyes flashing as he spoke in an irritated whisper. "If anyone learns what you are, they will want you gone. Do not draw attention to yourself."

"I'm already different, and I get unwanted attention without trying or wanting it." I growled back. "Who do you fear? We are the Lycans, a race superior to them all. They can do no harm to us. As for me, why should I worry about those outsiders when the threat from within might just be greater.” As expected, his face fell and a look of concern and denial replaced it. "That's not true, Zedkiel; your family cares for you. It's you who are pushing them away!"

A fool. Blind in the name of bonds and family. He didn't see the snakes at court or those from his own blood.

"I don't need family, respect, or status. Nor do I care about being accepted. I'm feared, and that is more than enough.” Turning on my heels, I walked off, the hunger within me growing. The urge to rip them all apart was seeping through my pores.

"Zedkiel... Where are you going, what have I said-"

"I know what I'm doing." I snarled warningly and he fell silent as I headed to the exit, the beast within me needing to be unleashed...