THE LYCAN KING’S FATED OBSESSION

MY ENEMY , MY SHELTER

Thunder tore through the sky at the exact moment the Moon Blessing Ceremony collapsed into chaos. Rain crashed down—fast and heavy—soaking everything in sight before anyone could react. Wolves scattered for shelter. Servants tried desperately to shield the sacred flames. The celebration was done, replaced by a tense kind of dread. Every whisper was about the Lycan King’s sudden appearance.

The rain? Honestly, I barely noticed it.

Each step shot pain through me, like sparks running down my bones. Damon’s rejection didn’t fade with time—it burned hotter, sharper. It hurt to move, but I didn’t stop.

I just kept going. Away from Damon. Away from all those people. Away from their stares that felt more like pity than anything else.

“You shouldn’t be walking.”

That deep voice followed right after me.

I kept my eyes ahead, jaw tight. “Didn’t ask for your permission.”

“I know.”

He sounded almost amused, which annoyed me even more.

I spun around, pain be damned. “Then stop following me!”

Kael’s black suit was rain-soaked, but he didn’t seem to care. Water slid off his dark hair. He just stood there, perfectly still, silver eyes fixed on mine.

“I plan to,” he said.

I blinked. “What?”

“Follow you.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t want you here.”

“I know.”

“You keep saying that!”

“Because you keep repeating yourself.”

For a split second, I forgot about the throbbing in my chest. Was he teasing me?

“You are unbelievably arrogant,” I snapped.

“So I’ve been told.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

“You are impossible.”

“And yet, here I am.”

I stared at him. Was this really the infamous Lycan King—Kael Draven, the one everyone called ruthless? He just looked, well, almost amused.

“I’ve met mountain goats less stubborn than you,” he said.

I folded my arms. “And I’ve met wolves with better manners.”

A slow smirk tugged at his lips. “There she is.”

“There who?”

“The woman who slapped a king.”

Heat hit my cheeks. “I didn’t slap a king.”

“You did.”

“I slapped an annoying stranger.”

He grinned wider. “Somehow, that’s worse.”

Lightning flashed. Thunder roared so loud it rattled the mountains.

Rain pounded even harder, blurring the world into gray streaks.

An elder hurried toward us, nearly slipping in the mud. “Your Majesty!”

Kael turned his attention toward him.

“The roads are washed out,” the elder said, nerves obvious in his voice. “No one can leave tonight.”

“We’ve readied the guest house,” he added, glancing at both of us.

Kael nodded, all business. “We’ll stay.”

I frowned. “We?”

He didn’t even blink. “You aren’t staying with me.”

“I just heard him say—”

“The guest house has several rooms.”

The elder coughed awkwardly. “Actually... the storm took out the western wing earlier this week.”

My stomach dropped.

“There’s only—one room left.”

Dead silence.

I looked at Kael. He looked at me.

“No,” I said immediately. “No way.”

The elder shrank into himself. “I’m so sorry, Lady Aria.”

“I’m not sharing a room with him.”

Kael crossed his arms, letting out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t snore.”

“That’s not the problem.”

“I don’t steal blankets, either.”

“That’s still not the problem!”

He looked faintly amused. “So you’ve already imagined us sharing blankets?”

I glared. “What?”

He just shrugged. “Just observing.”

“You are absolutely insufferable.”

“So I’ve heard.”

I groaned. The rain was getting worse, and so was he.

The guest house sat right at the forest’s edge, looking out into nothing but dark trees.

Outside, the storm screamed against the windows. Inside, the fire crackled, warm and steady.

One big bed. One small sofa. One fireplace. One very big problem.

I stood near the window, arms crossed, scanning the room. Kael leaned against the wall, cool and distant, like sharing space with a stranger was just another day for him.

“I’ll take the sofa,” he said.

“Didn’t ask.”

“You were about to.”

“I wasn’t.”

He grinned, knowing. “You were thinking it.”

“I don’t think about you.”

He didn’t buy it. “Liar.”

I shot him a glare. “We’ve known each other an hour, maybe.”

He counted on his fingers. “Eight insults already.”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s sad.”

“I find it entertaining.”

I sighed, dramatic and heavy. “This is going to be the longest night ever.”

He grew serious. “Maybe. There are assassins nearby.”

That pulled me up short. “What?”

“The convoy found tracks before we got here.” He moved to the window, eyes on the night. “They’ve been tailing us for days now.”

I frowned. “Why? Why come here?”

“They’re not after you.”

His voice turned hard. “They came for me.”

A chill crept up my spine. “So why stay?”

He met my gaze, his eyes steady. “Because the second I called you my mate in front of the pack, you became their target too.”

That landed heavy. Suddenly, the air felt colder.

“So that’s why you’re glued to my side?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“I can protect myself.”

He looked at my wrists and back up. “I’ve noticed. You’re not very good at it.”

I looked away, jaw tight. “I’ve survived this long.”

He gave a small nod. “You’ve endured. That’s not the same.”

I didn’t reply. Because he was right. Surviving doesn’t mean living.

The silence stretched out, thick. For once, neither of us had anything smart to say. I watched Kael pull off his soaked jacket and toss it over a chair. That’s when I saw it—a scar, long and deep, running across his chest. It looked old. Painfully familiar. No normal wolf would’ve lived through something like that.

I stepped closer before I could stop myself. “What happened?”

He hesitated, covering the scar with his hand. “It’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Long time ago.”

“Who gave that to you?”

His face shuttered up. “For someone who claims not to care, you ask a lot of questions.”

I held his stare. “Call it curiosity.”

He cracked a tiny smile. “So you admit it.”

“I didn’t admit anything.”

That hint of a smile stuck around. And I hated how easily he could do that—how I almost liked it.

Wind pounded against the windows. I shivered.

Kael noticed. He picked up a thick blanket, holding it out. “Take it.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“It’s a blanket.”

“I know what it is.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Then we’re making progress.”

I just glared. “You really enjoy getting on my nerves.”

He sobered for a moment. “I enjoy when you forget you’re hurting.”

That caught me off guard.

Another blast of thunder. The lights flickered. I jerked back, and my bad leg buckled.

Before I fell, strong arms caught me. One hand at my waist, the other bracing my back. For a second, I was pressed against Kael—close enough to hear his heartbeat. Close enough to feel heat and strength.

He smelled of cedar, rain, woodsmoke, and wild mountain air.

Not like Damon. Not like anyone.

Our eyes met. No possessiveness in his gaze—just concern.

“Careful,” he said quietly. “You’ll open your wounds again.”

I should’ve pushed him away. I didn’t move. His hand stayed on my waist. My palm ended up on his scar.

In that moment, I finally saw what hid under all his power—loneliness. It lingered in his eyes, old and raw.

A king, feared everywhere he went. Surrounded by wolves. But standing here, nothing about him felt powerful. Just alone.

It hurt to realize that.

Then—

Crash!

Every window in the room exploded inward. Shards rained across the floor. The fire leaped, roaring as icy wind swept through.

Dark figures in black masks poured in, weapons flashing. One pointed a blade right at my heart.

“Kill them!” someone shouted.