Fated To The Cursed Lycan King

Twelve

Marissa

Monday morning came in a flash. I stood before my closet, staring at the mess of clothes. Why did I even care so much about what I wore today? It was pointless trying hard for someone who didn't care.

I picked out a simple blue blouse, holding it up in front of the mirror. It looked decent, but it felt dull. I tossed it onto the bed and rummaged through my clothes again, pulling out a red dress—something a little bold that might make me feel powerful. I slipped it on and studied my reflection, but it felt too much.

“Pick a damn dress already!”

I took it off and finally settled on a soft cream-colored sweater, tucking it neatly into a pair of high-waisted black pants. I paired it with stud earrings and tied my hair in a neat bun. It wasn’t glamorous but felt like a version of my authentic self. I didn’t want to admit that I was dressing up for him or needed his acknowledgment.

I joined the bus and took and summoned the strength to head to Justin's office. He sat on his chair with a relaxed posture, and when our eyes met, he scanned me with newfound interest and wet his lips with his tongue

I could feel his eyes tracing every inch of me as his mouth turned into a wicked smirk. I cleared my throat, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“Good morning. It's nice to have you back.”

He smirked, leaning forward against his desk, but how he glanced down at my outfit made me want to melt.

“What are you wearing? You look like a hobo.”

My face flushed instantly, angry and embarrassed. I pressed my lips together, trying not to let his words get to me.

“Just trying to be comfortable, sir,” I replied, my voice as steady as possible.

Justin’s smirk grew wider, and it made my skin crawl.

“Comfortable?” he repeated, amusement dripping from his words. “Last week, you looked fuckable in those sultry dresses you wore. Today, your clothes are like rags on an old woman. Are you done trying to impress me?”

“What the hell?”

Laughing, he walked over with confident and purposeful strides until he stood directly in front of me. He looked me up and down, and the bond made me dizzy with longing. I wanted nothing more than to rip the rest of his clothing off and sink my teeth into his neck.

My breath hitched when he gently reached up to caress my cheek. He was standing too close for comfort, and body heat made my cheeks flush a vivid crimson color.

My stiff n*****s left no doubt I was aroused. I was too proud to beg. But god, did I wish for more.

He smiled at me knowingly.

“Be grateful you're stunning with a glowing skin tone. Want me to give you the best orgasm of your life?”

A smirk formed on his lips, and I couldn’t hold back the shudder that wracked my body.

“Don't worry,” Justin said quietly, leaning in closer. “That ugly boyfriend of yours doesn't have to know.”

My anger flared. The words cut deep and stung. How dare he talk about me like that. Like I was worthless and stupid. For a split second, I hoped he might mention the bond and finally acknowledge what had been simmering between us.

But instead, he leaned in, his lips curling into a smirk. "My offer is still open."

Sighing, I tried to mask the disappointment that washed over me. He stepped back and sat on his chair, crossing his legs with a casual air.

"Go to the accountant and get me the folder for the Q3 report," he said, his tone suddenly all business.

Turning on my heel, I headed for the accountant's office. I was so distracted that I forgot what Justin had even asked for when I arrived at the office.

"Are you okay?” Asked the accountant, raising an eyebrow.

I blinked, realizing I’d just been staring at him blankly. "Uh, the Q3 report folder," I said quickly, trying to regain my composure. He handed it to me, and I hurried back.

Working for Justin was proving to be more difficult than I had imagined. His weird behavior, his hot-and-cold attitude—it was driving me crazy. I needed to understand his true feelings, which made me more determined to figure it out.

By mid-morning, I was tasked with delivering another report to his office. I took a deep breath before knocking and pushing the door open. But when I entered, I saw his fiancee already there, complaining about something

Justin was sitting behind his desk with a bland expression but was listening to her regardless. She spoke to him with an intimate familiarity that made my stomach twist. Jealousy hit me like a punch to the gut, and I hated that I couldn’t just brush it off.

His woman turned, her eyes narrowing as they landed on me. She looked at me like I was an unwelcome interruption. "Get out," she said dismissively, waving her hand as if I were nothing more than an annoying fly.

I swallowed the sting of her words, but before I could move, Justin glanced up. "Leave the report on my desk.”

It felt like a slap. He didn’t even acknowledge me beyond that, and I hated how much it hurt. I placed the report on his desk and tried to keep my composure.

“Justin, you're not listening to me. Our wedding has to be perfect,” she said as I turned to leave.

My heart twisted painfully, and my jealousy morphed into something darker.

“Wendy, I told you—I’m at work. Let’s discuss this later. Marissa, please come back.”

“I said leave. Now!” Wendy, his girlfriend, yelled at me, making me jump and nearly drop my iPad.

I couldn't tell what it was, but the sting of pride encouraged me and kept me rooted to the spot.

“No, Wendy, you’re the one who needs to leave. I have work to do,” Justin said.

Wendy’s face turned red, and her eyes flashed with anger. She pointed at me. “Her? You’re making me leave because of her?”

Justin sighed, clearly annoyed. “I’m making you leave because you’re disrupting my work. We’ll talk later. Now go.”

Wendy’s eyes flicked to me. She tilted her head, her lips curling into a curious smirk. “Wait—isn’t this the same girl that Justine is crazy about?”

Justin’s gaze hardened, giving Wendy a look that could have frozen fire. “That’s enough, Wendy. Leave now.”

Wendy let out a huff of frustration, glaring at me one last time. “She's not even all that.”

When she left, the door slammed behind her. I stood there, staring at Justin, expecting an apology at the very least.

Instead, he looked up at me, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You keep looking at me like you’re hungry for something. You want me? You can have me right now.”

“No thanks,” I muttered, walking out of his office without looking back. I didn’t need him dangling himself before me like a prize.

But as I left, several thoughts gnawed at me. Something was going on—something more than just his usual games.

Justin seemed like he was forced to marry Wendy. The wedding was important, but why? And if it was so important, why was he here flirting with me?

Anita would know. She always knew the latest gossip. But for now, I needed to find another way to figure Justin out and understand what he was hiding. Justine. Maybe if I got closer to her, I could learn what Justin was up to.

Hector noticed my foul mood after work when we exited the bus.

“You okay?”

I forced a smile, but it felt brittle. “I’m fine,” I lied through my teeth.

“You look stressed. Want to talk about it?”

I shook my head, staring down at the pavement. “Not really. It’s just complicated.”

He nodded, not pushing me for more. “Well, your fake boyfriend is here if you need him.”

I smiled at him, grateful for his presence. “Thank you, Hector. Really.”

That evening, just as I was starting to unwind from the chaos of the day, my phone buzzed with a message from Justine.

"Hey, Marissa! I’m DJing at a club tomorrow night. You should come by! It’ll be fun!"

I stared at the message for a moment, considering it. Getting closer to Justine might help me understand what was happening with Justin.

I typed out a quick reply, agreeing to come. I needed answers. And if getting them meant spending more time with Justin’s sister, who liked me, then so be it.