Chapter 111 111

Chapter 111 111
LYKA

“What are you doing?” Derrick whispered against my ear, his warm breath sending a violent shiver down my spine. A helpless moan escaped me when his large hand closed over my breast through the thin fabric of my clothes, kneading slowly, expertly, as though he already knew every weakness my body possessed.
“Stop… we need to… talk,” I managed to mumble between broken breaths, though even I knew it was a shameless lie. The truth was far more dangerous. I did not want him to stop.
“You know you don’t want me to stop, right?” he murmured huskily, claiming my lips before I could answer. In one swift motion, he wrapped my legs around his waist and carried me toward the bed as if I weighed nothing.
My heart thundered wildly.
He laid me down with maddening care before stripping my clothes away piece by piece. My trembling hands flew to the waistband of his trousers, desperate to rid him of them too, but I froze when I caught the teasing glint in his eyes.
A flush of embarrassment scorched my cheeks.
“Naughty girl. I thought you said you didn’t want this.”
He landed a playful smack against my thigh, and the sharp sting sent a shocking pulse through my core. My breath hitched violently.
Derrick lowered his mouth to my chest, sucking one breast into his mouth while his hand toyed with the other. Pleasure crashed through me in relentless waves, and my fingers buried themselves in his hair as I fought to keep what little sense I had left.
Then he rose, removing the rest of his clothes.
My gaze dropped helplessly to the hard length of him, and heat pooled low in my stomach so fiercely it nearly hurt. He kissed me again, deeper this time, while sliding a finger between my thighs...
And I jerked upright in bed. My chest heaved violently as I looked around the room in confusion.
Empty. Silent. Cold. No Derrick. No hands on me. No heated kisses. No sinful whispers. Only me.
The realization hit me all at once. It had been a dream. A humiliating, vivid, outrageously indecent dream.
Mortified, I glanced down and discovered the sheets beneath me damp. My face burned hotter than fire.
“A wet dream?” I hissed at myself. “What kind of ridiculous nonsense is that?”
I threw the blanket aside and stomped toward the washroom, muttering curses under my breath. Shame followed me like a shadow.
How could I dream something like that first thing in the morning?
Of all the things I should be thinking about... danger, secrets, the cursed sword, the lies surrounding Derrick... my foolish mind chose that?
“Get yourself together, Lyka,” I scolded my reflection while splashing cold water over my face. “You have real problems.”
Still, even after cleaning up, the memory of the dream clung stubbornly to my thoughts. The feel of his hands. His voice. The hunger in his eyes.
I groaned aloud. This was torture. I stepped out of the washroom and paced the room restlessly. No matter how much I tried to distract myself, one truth remained.
I still had not told Derrick that the sword had never been used on him. And worse… he still refused to speak about Sheila.
Every time her name surfaced, he shut down like a slammed door. There was pain there. Shame. Something rotten and buried deep.
Whatever happened that night was far worse than anyone knew.
“And judging by how determined he is to avoid the truth,” I muttered, crossing my arms, “there’s definitely more to the story.”
There was only one way to get answers. I needed to confront him directly.
With my mind made up, I left my room and headed down the hallway toward his chambers.
Yet after only a few steps, unease curled in my stomach.
The corridor was quiet... too quiet. The air felt wrong. Heavy.
As though unseen eyes were fixed on my back.
I slowed, glancing behind me.
Nothing. Empty hallway. No sound but the faint echo of my own footsteps.
“What is wrong with me?” I whispered. “Why do I feel like this?”
My wolf stirred restlessly inside me. I do not like this, Elysia murmured. Something feels wrong.
That was all the confirmation I needed. I continued walking, senses sharpened now, every nerve alert. Then I heard it. Another set of footsteps. Soft. Slow. Following me. I spun around sharply.
A young woman stood several feet behind me.
I had never seen her before.
She was dressed like an ordinary pack member, but there was something deeply unsettling about the way she stared at me... motionless, unblinking.
“What are you doing?” I demanded, narrowing my eyes. “Why are you following me?”
She ignored the question and took another step forward.
“Are you Lyka?” she asked flatly. Confusion flickered through me.
“Yes,” I said cautiously. “I am Lyka. Is something wrong?”
She lifted her head fully. My breath caught. Her eyes were wrong. Pitch black. No whites. No pupils. Only darkness.
And the smile stretching across her face was twisted and unnatural.
“The order is to kill Lyka,” she said in a chilling monotone.
Before I could react, she yanked a knife from behind her back.
My body moved on instinct.
“What are you doing?” I snapped, leaping aside as she lunged.
The blade sliced through empty air where I had stood moments before.
“The order is to kill Lyka,” she repeated, voice emotionless. She attacked again. And again.
There was no hesitation in her movements. No fear. No awareness.
Only murderous purpose. “What is wrong with you?” I shouted, dodging another strike. “Drop the knife right now!”
She laughed.
The sound was hollow and broken.
“Lyka… you are going to die!” She rushed me full force. Enough.
I called on Elysia’s strength and struck her squarely in the chest.
She flew backward, slamming into the wall with a sickening thud before collapsing to the floor.
“Ow…” she groaned weakly.
I rushed forward and kicked the knife from her grasp.
“If you’re being controlled, then maybe I can still... ”
She swept my legs from beneath me.
I crashed onto the floor with a sharp cry, pain exploding through my hip.
She scrambled toward the knife again like a puppet dragged by strings.
“The order is to kill Lyka!”
My eyes widened.. Without thinking, I kicked hard into her stomach.
“Ahhh!” She folded over and crumpled to the ground.
The noise echoed through the corridor.
Doors flew open. Footsteps thundered closer.
“What is happening here?” Derrick’s voice. Relief nearly made me collapse. I turned and saw him charging toward me, eyes blazing with fury.
“I don’t know,” I said breathlessly as he reached me. “She attacked me out of nowhere. She kept repeating the same thing like she’d lost her mind.”
Derrick pulled me against his chest instantly, one protective arm around my waist while his gaze locked onto the woman sprawled on the floor.
“It’s okay,” he murmured against my hair. “I’ve got you.”
The gathered crowd filled the hallway quickly... pack members whispering, staring, muttering in confusion.
I hated scenes like this. Then movement at the edge of the crowd caught my eye. Someone turning away too quickly.
A familiar figure retreating down the corridor.
I narrowed my eyes.
I had only seen their back for a second, but I knew I recognized them.
I stepped forward, ready to chase after them.
Then Amanda’s horrified voice froze me in place.
“She’s dead!” My stomach dropped.
“What?” I turned sharply.
The woman lay unnaturally still.. no movement. No breath, no pulse. My mind reeled.
“That’s impossible,” I said, staring in disbelief. “I barely touched her…”
The hallway fell into dreadful silence.
Then a far more terrifying thought entered my mind.
If I hadn’t killed her…
Who did?