Chapter 54 Obsession

Chapter 54 Obsession
Rodney's Point of View

She was perfect—every part of her. From the way her dark mahogany brown hair clung to her damp face to the fierce glint in her amethyst eyes, Lucienne was unlike anyone I had ever encountered. Even in this wretched, decrepit cell, she exuded an ethereal quality that only made me crave her more.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her. Those eyes—by the Goddess, they haunted me. That purple—the most striking, vivid shade I’d ever seen—was like a curse, binding me to her in ways I hadn’t anticipated. They seemed to pierce through me every time she dared to lift her gaze. 

They weren’t like the dull brown or washed-out blues I was used to seeing in Wolf-Shifters. No, they shimmered with an otherworldly depth, glowing faintly even in the dim light of the basement. I’d never seen anything like it, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how those eyes would look, gazing up at me… filled with submission.

My obsession with her had grown from fascination to a consuming need. She was mine; she just didn’t know it yet. I’d make her see it. I’d make her accept it.

The thought of her marked and mated to me sent a thrill through my veins. My mark would stand out on her perfect neck, a claim no other man could touch. And the pups she’d bear for me… strong, powerful, beautiful. I could already see them—her eyes on their faces, her strength in their forms. A legacy unlike any other.

It made me so fucking hard thinking about it. I had to call Beatrice to me just to get rid of it. No other female had ever managed to stir a reaction in me like this. I held Beatrice’s hair tightly as I rammed my cock down her throat, making her choke. In my mind, it was Lucienne’s plump lips wrapped around my cock. It was her eyes looking up at me, pleading to let her breathe.

I groaned as I shot my load down Beatrice’s throat, making her swallow it all. It wasn’t until I had finished that I released her, letting her breathe. She moved back, breathing hard, trying to regain her breath. Her chest heaved with each strained inhale.

“You can leave now,” I dismissed her, sitting down on my bed. When she didn’t leave as fast as I expected, I yelled at her to Fuck off and get out of there. She was just a stupid bitch with no other use than for relieving myself.

Returning my thoughts to Lucienne. There were a couple of problems.

The first one was Marc and Cole.

Those arrogant Alphas had already claimed her, and it was apparent why. She wore their marks, a sign of their bond, yet Elizabeth and Beatrice were fooling themselves if they thought the Alphas would ever reject her. They would have to be stupid to do that. Lucienne was their mate, and no one could deny the connection. They weren’t worthy of her—not the way I was.

If only I could sever their bond and erase their connection to her entirely. I’d heard whispers of such things being possible, and I knew exactly who could make it happen.

Brodie.

The Blood Witch.

Her name alone could make even the boldest of warriors shiver. Half-vampire, half-witch, and wholly terrifying, Brodie was a master of blood magic. She could bend the strongest wills and unravel the most sacred of bonds. If anyone could free Lucienne from those Alphas, it was her.

I hesitated as I thought of Brodie’s price. She didn’t work for free, and her bargains were… messy. It was one thing for Elizabeth to use her and pay for her services, but did I want to be indebted to Brodie? Still, it would be worth it. Whatever the cost, I’d pay it to make Lucienne mine.

Brodie’s father was Darius, the same father to Beatrice and Kree. According to Darius, Kree had been the strongest of his children and unmatched in her brutality. If it hadn’t been for that damn Lycan Queen and her royal pack, Kree and Darius would still be alive.

My jaw tightened at the memory. Darius and Kree’s downfall had been a reminder that even the strongest could fall if they underestimated their enemies. But I wasn’t them. I knew better than to make the same mistakes.

I pushed the thought aside and refocused on the present. Lucienne wasn’t like anyone else. No amount of torment seemed to break her spirit. She sat there in that cell, defiant and proud, even as her body trembled with weakness.

I hated it, yet I loved it at the same time.

I wanted to see her submit, to kneel before me, to beg for my mercy. I wanted to break her spirit, to watch her crumble beneath the weight of my power, to make her regret every defiant word, every arrogant glance. The thought of her on her knees, pleading for forgiveness, was intoxicating.

Instead, she looked at me with those damned eyes, full of nothing but contempt, like I was nothing to her. It was as if I was no more than a passing inconvenience in her world—her pride, her stubbornness, that refusal to bow to anyone, even me, was infuriating. Each time she met my gaze, her silence spoke louder than anything she could have said. And that only made me want her even more.

I clenched my fists as a wave of frustration coursed through me. “You’ll break eventually,” I muttered under my breath, my voice low and venomous. “They all do.” I drifted off to sleep, imagining all the things I could do to Lucienne.

My second problem—Elizabeth and Beatrice.

It was now early morning time and much too early to deal with this shit. Elizabeth’s voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and impatient. “Are you coming, Rodney, or are you going to keep drooling over her all day? What do you see in her anyway? Are Beatrice and I not good enough for you now? I know all about what you did to Beatrice last night. I am not stupid to think it was my daughter that caused that reaction in you.”

I shot her a glare, my lip curling in disdain. “You’re testing my patience, Elizabeth.” She was right, but I wouldn’t admit to her that Lucienne was everything she or her daughter were not. I really didn’t need the argument this early in the morning.

She smirked, unfazed. “I paid for this operation, remember? That means I call the shots. If you have a problem with that, feel free to leave. But don’t think for a second that you can take her with you.”

I ground my teeth, barely holding back the urge to put her in her place. The arrogance radiating from her was enough to make my blood boil. The only reason I tolerated her presence was because she’d bankrolled this entire scheme. Without her money, I would have left her in the dirt where she belonged.

Elizabeth was nothing to me—no more than a means to an end. I didn’t give a flying fuck if she was Darius’ fated mate and that Beatrice was his daughter. That didn’t mean a damn thing to me. Her connection to him only made her more insufferable, but I wasn’t here for her; I was here for the money she could offer, and once I had what I needed, I’d be rid of her.

Elizabeth and I descended into the basement together, her heels clicking sharply against the wooden stairs. She carried herself with an air of authority that grated on my nerves. A woman like her had no business leading anything, let alone this operation.

When we reached the bottom, my anger flared again at the sight of Lucienne in her cell. She was still so defiant, so unbroken, and damn it, that only made me want her more. I’d noticed right away that she’d been in the cell all night with the lights off, even though I’d specifically told Elizabeth to keep them on. I’d been trying to show some mercy, to treat her with a bit of decency when I didn’t have to.

But, of course, Elizabeth had to take issue with it. She’d practically gone off on me, accusing me of being too soft on Lucienne and too understanding. The words stung, but all they did was fuel the fire inside me. Seeing her like this, in the dark, still unbroken, made me realise just how much she was challenging everything I thought I knew—and how much I wanted to break through that stubborn defiance.

Elizabeth opened the door to the cell and started telling Lucienne that she contacted Marc and Cole and that they had agreed to reject her. Yadda, yadda, yadda. I could see that she didn’t believe a bar of whatever Elizabeth was saying.

“You should start thinking about what’s best for you, Lucienne,” she said, her tone softening into something almost coaxing. “Marc and Cole aren’t coming for you. They’ve already moved on. Beatrice will see to that.”