Chapter 5: The King's Obsession
857 Words
VALERIAN
She was running again.
The little wolf had fire in her blood.
Valerian leaned against the cold stone pillar of his throne room, arms crossed, watching as Lena sprinted through the dark corridors of his palace, searching for an escape that didn’t exist.
She didn’t know he had let her get this far.
Didn’t know he had allowed her this tiny, fleeting illusion of freedom.
He could have stopped her the moment she stirred from his bed—the moment she moved.
But watching her fight?
Watching her defy him even when she had no chance?
It was delicious.
A slow, knowing smirk tugged at his lips.
Lena was different.
He had known it from the moment he first saw her—wild, untamed, a storm wrapped in the body of a woman.
And more than that…
She was his.
She didn’t know it yet.
Didn’t understand what she was to him—what her very existence meant.
But she would.
Soon.
Valerian stepped forward, his long strides carrying him down the corridor where Lena had vanished.
His little wolf was about to learn exactly why she had been chosen.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
YEARS AGO…
(A Memory)
The fire burned in the sacred temple, its blue-white flames licking the air, untouched by the wind.
Valerian knelt before it, his breath slow and controlled, his chest heavy with the weight of fate.
The Oracle’s voice echoed through the chamber, low and steady.
"A queen of wolves… but not a queen of peace."
"A bond forged in fire, sealed in blood."
"She will hate you. She will resist you. But she will be your ruin and your salvation alike."
The flames had flickered—shifting, reshaping.
And then—
A face.
Wild green eyes. A defiant snarl.
A girl with fire in her blood and a storm in her soul.
Valerian had felt it then—a pull so deep, so consuming, it was as if the very world had rearranged itself around her existence.
And he knew.
She was the one.
The only one.
His queen.
His mate.
And now—she was running from him.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PRESENT
Lena turned a corner, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
She could hear him—his footsteps slow, unhurried.
He wasn’t running after her.
Because he didn’t have to.
A pulse of power rippled through the corridor, the shadows at the edges of the walls curling like living things.
Lena skidded to a stop.
No.
The air changed.
And then—
He was there.
Stepping out of the darkness, standing between her and the massive doors that she had been trying to reach.
Valerian’s golden eyes burned as he regarded her, his expression unreadable.
But beneath it—something darker.
Something hungry.
"You never learn," he murmured.
Lena clenched her fists. "You won’t keep me here."
Valerian tilted his head, his smirk slow and deliberate. "Won’t I?"
And then—he moved.
One second, he was several feet away.
The next—
His hand brushed her wrist, slow and featherlight.
Lena jerked away, but it was too late.
The moment their skin met, something ignited.
A bolt of white-hot electricity shot through her veins, her entire body going rigid.
Her breath hitched.
Valerian’s smirk deepened. "You feel it, don’t you?"
"No," she whispered, but it was a lie.
A deadly, undeniable lie.
Because the heat that licked through her veins, the way her body reacted to his presence—it was stronger than instinct.
Stronger than reason.
And he knew it.
Valerian lifted his hand—slowly, deliberately.
Trailing his fingers along the delicate line of her throat.
Lena's pulse pounded against his touch.
"You hate this," he murmured, his voice velvet and sin, "but your body doesn’t."
Lena’s breath came faster, her wolf pacing inside her like a caged thing.
She hated him.
Hated what he had done.
But the Goddess help her—she wanted him, too.
Valerian’s lips brushed against the shell of her ear, his voice dipping into something low and dangerous.
"You can fight me, little wolf."
His fingers slid down her chest, his touch light as a whisper, but devastating all the same.
"You can keep running."
His golden eyes burned into hers.
"But we both know how this ends."
Lena’s body shook with the effort to resist him.
No. No, she wouldn’t give in.
She lifted her chin, forcing a smirk to her lips. "I’d rather die than belong to you."
Valerian laughed softly.
A deep, rich sound that sent shivers down her spine.
"Oh, Lena," he murmured, pulling her closer.
The heat of him wrapped around her like a second skin, the raw power in his presence suffocating and intoxicating all at once.
His fingers tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze.
"I don’t need you to belong to me."
His lips barely brushed hers—a ghost of a touch, a promise of something dangerous.
"You already do."
And then—darkness.
The air vanished.
Lena’s vision blurred.
The last thing she felt was Valerian’s arms wrapping around her, pulling her under, as the shadows swallowed them whole.
- Writer
