His Dangerous Obsession

17

Damon.

“Don’t look so lost, Cath,” he said, his voice low, but the undercurrent of dominance still present. “I told you not to run. Did you think I wouldn’t find you?”

I didn’t answer him. Instead, I turned away, staring out of the window, trying to ignore the tightness in my chest. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he affected me.

“You’re mine, remember?” he added, his footsteps moving closer, and I could feel the intensity of his gaze on my back.

I closed my eyes. This was it. This was my life now.

“I didn’t ask for this,” I finally whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

Damon’s laugh was cold, without humor. “No one ever asks for the things they need the most.”

I could feel him behind me, so close, his presence almost consuming. He reached out and gently turned my face toward him, making me face him head-on. His eyes were dark, unreadable, but there was something else there—a flicker of something I didn’t understand.

“Why are you fighting this, Cath?” he asked, his tone softer now. “Why do you make it so difficult?”

“Because I don’t want you to control me,” I snapped, surprising myself with the strength in my voice. “I don’t want to be your puppet.”

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought he would lash out. But instead, he just stared at me, his gaze softening.

“You’re not my puppet,” he said quietly, though there was a dangerous edge to his words. “You’re mine because I want you. And because, deep down, you want me too.”

I shook my head, my throat tightening. “No, I don’t want this. I don’t want you.”

He stepped closer, his face inches from mine. His breath was warm against my skin, and I could feel the heat radiating from his body. “Liar,” he whispered. “You’re lying to yourself.”

I felt his hand slip around my waist, pulling me closer until our bodies were pressed together. My pulse raced, my breath shallow, but I refused to let him see how affected I was. I wouldn’t let him win.

“I’m not your toy, Damon,” I said, though the words barely came out as a whisper.

He smiled, but it wasn’t a kind smile. It was the kind of smile that made my skin crawl and my heart race. “You will be, Cath. You’ll be mine, whether you like it or not.”

I could feel the tension building, the air between us thick with something dangerous. My heart hammered in my chest as I realized the truth: Damon was obsessed with me, and I was trapped in his world.

But no matter how much I wanted to run, to escape, part of me—no matter how much I hated it—was drawn to him.

“Stay with me tonight,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear. “You’ll see. You’ll understand.”

I wanted to say no. I wanted to push him away. But I couldn’t. Not anymore.

With trembling hands, I nodded.

And as Damon pulled me closer, I couldn’t help but wonder: was this my fate? Was this what I had to accept? Was I already too far gone to escape?

________

The night dragged on with an eerie stillness, the only sounds the distant howls of the wind and the soft ticking of the clock. Every nerve in my body screamed for escape, but my feet felt cemented to the floor. I knew, deep down, that I was trapped. Not by chains or locks, but by something far more insidious—the suffocating pull of Damon’s presence.

I could still feel the warmth of his touch, the weight of his words lingering in my mind like a dangerous melody that I couldn’t shake off.

You’re mine.

His words echoed over and over in my head, taunting me with their undeniable truth. I hated it, but I couldn’t deny that there was a part of me that felt it. A part of me that craved his touch, his attention. It was sickening, how quickly my mind had twisted, how easily I had allowed myself to become tangled in his web.

I stood by the window, staring out at the dark, moonlit landscape. The mansion was quiet, almost too quiet. Even the usual rustling of leaves outside felt muted, as though the world itself was holding its breath.

It wasn’t until I heard the soft click of a door opening behind me that I turned around. My heart skipped a beat, the anxiety surging back in an instant.

Damon stood in the doorway, his figure outlined against the dim light from the hallway. His eyes glimmered with that same unreadable intensity that both terrified and fascinated me.

“I thought you’d be waiting for me,” he said, his voice smooth and velvety, but carrying an underlying authority that made my skin crawl.

I straightened, my pulse quickening as I crossed my arms over my chest. “I didn’t ask for you to come here.”

Damon took a slow step forward, his gaze never leaving mine. “You didn’t have to ask.”

His words were like a command, and despite myself, I found my body moving back, as if I were being pulled by an invisible force. I hated how much control he had over me, how easy it was for him to make my heart race with just a look.

“You know, Cath,” he murmured, his voice softer now, as he closed the distance between us, “I’m not the monster you think I am.”

I didn’t answer, choosing instead to watch him closely. He stopped just a few inches away, and I could feel the heat radiating from his body. It was suffocating, his presence like a storm that I couldn’t escape.

“You think you know what you want,” he continued, his fingers brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear, “but you don’t. You need me, Cath. You need someone to show you what it means to truly be wanted.”

I wanted to pull away. I wanted to scream at him and tell him that I didn’t need him, that I could walk away if I chose to. But the truth was, deep down, I wasn’t sure if I could. Damon’s hold on me was far stronger than I wanted to admit.

“I don’t need you,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, though it lacked the conviction I needed.