The Stone King's Obsession

Chapter Two

The door slammed behind me, the sound echoing through the narrow corridor like a gunshot. Dust rose from the cracked stone floor, twisting in the weak moonlight that filtered through the shattered windows. I knew I only had now to make my last move. I spun, dagger in hand, heart hammering in my chest, but the room was empty. Or so I thought.

“You have nowhere to run,” his voice said from the shadows. Low, measured, and heavy, like molten steel poured into a velvet cup. My body froze. He was just right here!

Rhaziel Varyn stepped from the darkness. His form was impossibly tall, his presence suffocating. Even in the dim light, I could see the sheen of power in his silver-black eyes, the way his hair caught the moonlight, the effortless authority in the tilt of his shoulders. He didn’t move as a man might; he moved as a predator does—silent, confident, and utterly unyielding.

“You caught me again,” I whispered, almost in awe, though my fingers tightened around the dagger. I would never allow myself be imprisoned by him.

“No,” he corrected, tilting his head in that maddening way. “I allowed you to make your move. You are… different. Alive, and … somehow compatible.”

I staggered back, instinctively raising my dagger again. Compatibility? With him? My blood ran cold. He was the Stone King!! The monster everyone feared. Yet here I stood, unturned to stone, trembling in a combination of fear, anger, and something I dared not name.

“I don’t understand,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “If you can kill with a touch, why… why didn't I?”

His lips curved, a slow, almost imperceptible smile. “ I am curious as well. No one has ever survived my touch. Not a single soul. And yet, here you are. Alive."

I swallowed hard. I wanted to flee. I wanted to strike. I wanted to collapse and wish it were all a dream. And yet, I could not. There was something in his gaze that rooted me in place, something magnetic and dangerous.

“You should be afraid,” I said finally, voice trembling despite myself. '' I am… like everyone else."

He took a slow step closer, the stone floor groaning under his weight, and I flinched. The air around him seemed charged, shimmering faintly, as if the castle itself recognized his power. “You are not like everyone else,” he said softly. “And that is… why you intrigue me.”

The word pierced me, strange and dangerous. Intrigue... Something in the way he said it sent a shiver down my spine. I tightened my grip on the dagger, though it felt almost laughable now. like wielding a knife against a hurricane. I've tried and failed twice in less than an hour.

“You… you can’t just speak like that!” I snapped, trying to reclaim some semblance of control. ''You could kill me in an instant! What are you waiting for?''

''And yet, I have not," he said, voice low and intimate, a growl that seemed to vibrate through the floor and into my bones. ''Tell me… why?''

I blinked, unable to answer. The truth was I didn’t know. My immunity was as much a mystery to me as it was to him. I had survived his touch, and the knowledge of it made my blood run hot and cold simultaneously.

He took another step, closing the distance. I could smell him then. The faint metallic tang of blood, the warmth of flesh, the weight of danger. I pressed back, and the wall behind me scraped against my shoulder, but he didn’t stop. He simply watched me, as if savoring the panic and curiosity swirling in my eyes.

“Do you even know what you are?” he asked, his voice softening just enough to make my heart lurch. “Alive in a world where everything else dies under my touch?”

“I…” My voice faltered. I shook my head, though my pulse raced with more than just fear. “I just know I have to complete my mission. I have no choice.”

His smile deepened, almost imperceptible. “No choice…” he echoed. Then, for a moment, something almost human flickered across his face. Vulnerability. Pain. Loss. “Perhaps,” he said, “but choice has nothing to do with it. The question is… will you survive long enough to face what lies ahead?”

I swallowed hard. “I will.”

“Brave,” he said, his tone almost approving. And then he did something I wasn’t expecting: he stepped even closer, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him, the subtle power vibrating in the air. ''And yet… terrified. Tell me, are you afraid of me? Or of what I could do to you?''

The question sent a jolt through me. My dagger felt suddenly small and fragile in my hands. I wanted to answer, but the words lodged in my throat. I couldn’t lie, not to him. Not with his gaze holding me hostage. The truth slipped out almost against my will: “Both.”

A faint laugh escaped him, soft and chilling. ''Good! Fear sharpens the senses. Makes survival… more interesting.''

My pulse hammered. Survival. That was all I had ever cared about. And yet, standing here, with him, my thoughts strayed, dangerous and unwanted, to something else. Something magnetic, compelling, and terrifying: the desire to see him smile again, to hear his voice, to… understand him.

I shook my head violently, trying to banish the thought. I had a mission. I had a goal. I could not!... would not!...be distracted. And yet, the moment his hand brushed against mine, almost casually as he reached to inspect a wound on my forearm, I felt it: a pulse, faint but undeniable, as if the curse that had frozen entire armies in stone had stirred just for me.

I didn’t turn to stone. I didn’t scream. I only froze, eyes wide, heart hammering like a drum, and stared at him.

His gaze held mine, intense, unyielding, almost expectant. “Fascinating,” he murmured. “You are… alive. Truly alive. Not like the others.” He sounded like he was trying to believe the fact that I am still alive.

I wanted to recoil, to break the contact, but my body betrayed me. I didn’t move. I couldn’t move. Not fully. And in that moment, I understood something I had never admitted aloud: he wasn’t just dangerous. He was… irresistible.

I clenched my jaw, forcing my eyes away. “You’re a monster,” I said, voice trembling with a mixture of fear and something else I refused to name. “And I have to stop you.”

He stepped back just slightly, giving me the tiniest shred of space. “Monster,” he repeated softly. “Perhaps. Or perhaps I am a man who was cursed by those who feared what he could be. Tell me… do you know what it feels like to be feared? To be hunted? To be loved only with hesitation and hatred?”

The words struck me harder than any blade ever could. His eyes, those silver-black eyes that seemed to see straight into me. Held something raw, vulnerable, human. And for the first time, I glimpsed the truth behind the monster: he was a man, broken and bound by something not of his own making.

I swallowed, trying to steady my trembling hands. “I… I don’t know,” I said finally. “I only know that I have a mission. That I… have to kill you and survive.''

His gaze softened, just slightly, almost imperceptibly. “Then perhaps,” he said, “we are… similar. Two souls caught in a world that would see us destroyed.”

The air between us thrummed, charged with danger and something else. Something forbidden. Something neither of us dared to name. I wanted to hate him, wanted to strike him and run and never look back. And yet, every instinct in my body betrayed me. Every heartbeat whispered that I was standing on the edge of something dark, something dangerous, and utterly consuming.

He stepped closer again, and for a brief moment, the world narrowed to just the two of us. The ruined tower, the petrified soldiers, the cursed kingdom, all faded into shadow. All that remained was him.

“You should rest,” he said, his tone gentle now, though edged with authority. “You will need your strength. Tomorrow, we will see what this… immunity of yours can truly endure.”

I nodded, though my mind was anything but calm. Rest? In the presence of the Stone King? Impossible. Yet I knew, deep down, that I had no choice. Not if I wanted to survive. Not if I wanted to see my family again.

And so I allowed him to lead me further into the tower, deeper into his world of shadow and stone. Each step I took, I felt the weight of his gaze on me, and with it, a dangerous, thrilling certainty: I was no longer merely an assassin. I was something else. Something that had captured the attention of the most feared man in the world, and perhaps, in ways I did not yet understand.

I did not know whether to be terrified or grateful.

But one thing was certain: nothing would ever be the same again.