The forbidden obsession

Chapter 3 - Fractures and Flames

Chapter Three – Fractures and Flames

The morning light filtered through the tall curtains, bright and unwelcome. Georgina dragged herself to the dining room, still half-asleep, her hair tumbling down her shoulders in loose waves. Nathan was already there, seated at the head of the table like he owned it, a newspaper folded neatly in his hand.

The butler placed a plate of eggs and toast in front of her, along with shining cutlery. Georgina picked up the fork and knife, twirling them noisily against the porcelain.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

The sharp sound echoed through the room. She smirked, stabbing a piece of egg with the fork and biting into it without using the knife. Then she leaned back deliberately, crossing her legs with a mocking grace.

Nathan’s eyes lifted from the paper, narrowing just slightly. “You have hands, Georgina. Use them properly.”

She raised her fork like a sword. “Oh, I am. See?” She clacked it again against the plate, the sound grating and deliberate.

The butler stiffened, pretending not to hear.

Nathan set the paper down, his gaze steady. “If you think childish defiance will change the rules of this house, you’re mistaken.”

Her lips curled into a sly grin. “Childish? Maybe. But it works. You’re looking at me, aren’t you?”

For a heartbeat, his composure slipped, and she caught the faintest twitch at the corner of his lips before he looked away.

Later, the halls felt unnaturally quiet. Her father and Kelvin had already departed for the airport.

As she walked back toward her room, she remembered how Kelvin used to follow her around, chattering endlessly about every little thing. She used to snap at him, telling him to shut up, that he was “disturbing.”

Now the silence felt heavier than she wanted to admit.

She wrapped her arms around herself, muttering, “i***t. Why do I miss your noise already?”

Unbeknownst to her, Nathan passed by in the corridor at that moment. His eyes lingered on her as if he’d caught a glimpse of her softer side — the part she tried so hard to bury.

Georgina sat in the dining room, lazily tapping the tip of her fork against the plate. The butler had barely cleared the table when the new home teacher, a middle-aged man with rimmed spectacles, adjusted his coat and placed a thick journal in front of her.

“Today,” he began, “we’ll be discussing European politics. Let me test your foundation, Miss Georgina. Tell me, what do you know about the political schemes in France after the Fifth Republic was established?”

Georgina raised a brow. “France?” She tilted her head, her lips twitching into a sly smile. “That’s a strange place to start, don’t you think?”

The teacher’s eyes narrowed with curiosity. “Humor me.”

Georgina leaned back in her chair, her tone turning almost casual as if she’d been reading the subject her whole life.

“Well… The Fifth Republic was designed to strengthen executive power. Charles de Gaulle, the founder, wanted stability after the chaos of the Fourth Republic. But—” she paused, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger, “—what many people overlook is how the power struggle between the president and prime minister shaped modern French politics. The president became the face of strength abroad, while the prime minister quietly held domestic influence. That tug-of-war? It made France… slippery. Hard to predict. Even now, their alliances often look loyal on the surface but are really transactional.”

The teacher froze, blinking at her as if he wasn’t sure whether to scold or applaud. “Remarkable…” he muttered. “That’s… astonishingly accurate.”

Georgina smirked, biting into a slice of fruit as if it were nothing. “Did I pass your little test?”

Nathan, who had been silently standing near the window with his hands folded behind his back, finally turned. His eyes burned into her, not with anger, but with something else. He had known Georgina since she was a little girl, but what he saw now unsettled him.

“You’ve never studied political theory,” Nathan said slowly, almost accusing. “And yet you speak as though you lived it. How?”

Georgina tilted her chin, that mischievous smile still playing at her lips. “Why? Are you surprised that I might be smarter than you, Sir Nathan?” She drew out his name deliberately, teasing, almost flirtatious.

The teacher coughed awkwardly,shuffling his notes. “Yes, well… It seems you already have an advanced mind, Miss Georgina. Shall we move on?”

But Nathan didn’t move on. His gaze lingered, sharp and suspicious, until Georgina felt the heat crawl across her skin. He wasn’t just surprised by her knowledge. He was disturbed.

Because deep down, Nathan knew something Georgina didn’t:

France wasn’t just politics. It was her grandmother’s bloodline.

---

The lesson wrapped up, and Georgina closed the thick book with a snap that echoed through the dining room. She stood with that same air of defiance, but before she could slip away, Nathan’s deep voice caught her mid-step.

“You spoke about France,” he said, walking toward her. His boots clicked steadily against the marble floor. “You said things even seasoned analysts would hesitate to phrase so boldly. Where did you learn all that?”

Georgina turned slightly, her hands resting behind her back in a careless pose. “Maybe I’ve got a gift for guessing,” she teased, her eyes glinting. “Or maybe…” She leaned closer, her lips curling mischievously, “you just don’t like being outsmarted by a girl.”

Nathan’s jaw tightened. “Don’t play games with me, Georgina. Knowledge doesn’t come out of thin air.”

She only smirked, spinning on her heel. “Then you’ll just have to keep wondering, won’t you?”

—

Minutes later, they were outside on the sprawling estate grounds, where the morning air was crisp and the grass still wet with dew. The stable boys had prepared a chestnut mare, its mane gleaming like silk under the sun.

Georgina approached the horse with no hesitation. Most young riders flinched or moved stiffly around such a powerful animal, but she reached out her hand as though she were greeting an old friend. The mare lowered its head and nuzzled her palm, releasing a soft whinny that made the stable hands exchange curious looks.

Nathan stood a few feet away, arms folded, his eyes narrowing. Horses weren’t supposed to warm up that fast. Not to anyone.

“Strange,” he murmured, half to himself.

Georgina mounted effortlessly, her posture elegant but relaxed, as though she’d been born in the saddle. The mare responded to her touch instantly, trotting smoothly under her guidance. She laughed—a free, ringing sound—as the wind caught her hair.

From where he stood, Nathan couldn’t take his eyes off her. Something about the way the horse obeyed her every movement unsettled him. It wasn’t just skill. It was… connection.

Georgina urged the mare into a canter, her laughter mixing with the rhythmic thud of hooves on grass. For a fleeting moment, she felt free—like the world was hers to command. But then, as she turned her gaze toward Nathan, standing tall and silent with his arms crossed, that freedom twisted into something darker.

Why does he have to look like that?

Why does he have to be the one my father trusts above everyone else?

Why does it feel like my body betrays me every time he’s near?

Her pulse raced, not from the ride but from the forbidden thoughts that crashed into her mind like waves. Images of him—close, too close—his breath mingling with hers, the warmth of his hands… She clenched the reins tighter, biting her lip. Stop it, Georgina. Stop.

But the more she tried to suppress it, the stronger it grew.

Nathan called again, his voice sharp, cutting through the fog in her mind.

“You’ve been hiding a lot, Georgina.”

Her head snapped toward him, her cheeks hot with a mixture of desire and rage.

“Or maybe you’ve just never looked close enough,” she spat back, her voice sharper than she intended.

She pulled the mare to a sudden stop, dismounted with a flare of her gown, and stormed away from the field.

Her heart hammered in her chest, anger and shame wrestling inside her. As she strode back into the main house, the air around her seemed to shift. The great chandelier above the entrance flickered once, its crystals chiming as though struck by an unseen hand. The candles lining the hallway trembled, their flames dancing wildly in their glass holders.

Georgina froze. She hadn’t touched anything. She hadn’t even thought about anything—except… him.

The realization struck her like lightning, but before she could process it, she sensed a presence.

“Who’s there?” she called, spinning toward the shadows. The hallway was empty, the air eerily still.

The heavy double doors opened without a sound. Nathan stepped inside, his eyes scanning her, sharp and probing. For the first time, she saw uncertainty flicker across his usually composed face.

“Georgina,” he said, his tone steady but firm, carrying the weight of something unspoken. “You need to learn control.”

Her lips parted, ready to argue, to deny what had just happened, but the look in his eyes silenced her.

“If others see this before you do, they’ll use it against you,” Nathan continued, his voice lowering, almost like a warning. “Power without discipline is dangerous. Not just to you—but to everyone around you.”

She swallowed hard, torn between defiance and fear. “I… I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

Nathan took a slow breath, as though reining himself in. “You don’t have to. Not yet. But listen to me—guard yourself. The world isn’t kind to those who stand out. Promise me you’ll try.”

For a heartbeat, the tension between them shifted, no longer just forbidden attraction but something heavier—like he knew more about her than she could imagine.

Georgina clenched her fists at her sides, her voice barely above a whisper. “And if I can’t?”

Nathan’s eyes softened, but his jaw stayed rigid. “Then I’ll do it for you. Even if it means standing against you.”

The silence that followed was deafening. She turned away, pretending to be unbothered, but her chest burned with confusion—part fear, part fury, and something else she dared not name.

And in Nathan’s gaze, hidden beneath his calm, was the truth he wouldn’t say aloud:

Her awakening had started. And soon, others would know.

Georgina’s fists trembled at her sides. “I don’t even know how to control it,” she admitted finally, her voice breaking with frustration.

Nathan’s gaze softened. For a moment, his usual sternness melted into something almost tender. He stepped closer, lowering his voice so only she could hear. “Then I’ll teach you. I promised your father I’d protect you with my life, and that includes protecting you from yourself.”

Her eyes widened at his certainty, at the way he spoke as though he carried the weight of her destiny in his hands. A nervous laugh slipped from her lips. “You’re a werewolf, Nathan. What could you possibly know about witchcraft?”

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Enough to know you’re not alone. Your home teacher was chosen for a reason. He’s not just here to drill politics and history into you—he’s capable of guiding you through what’s coming.”

Her brows furrowed. “Capable? Then why hasn’t anyone told me this before?”

Nathan’s eyes gleamed in the dim light of the hallway. “Because you’ve just passed the first level of awakening, Georgina. And now, there’s no turning back.”

Her breath caught in her throat, fear and anticipation colliding in her chest. For the first time, she realized the life she knew was already slipping away.

And that was how her new reality began.