My Obsession

Savior Hunt did not sleep. He lay in the king-sized bed of his hotel suite in Manhattan, sheets tangled around his waist, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. The skyline glowed in the distance, but it was the memory of her - her scent, her lips, her voice - that lit him like wildfire. Lauretta. He didn't know her last name. He didn't need to. His wolf whispered it in his mind with a hunger he struggled to control. Find her. Claim her. She is ours. Savior dragged both hands over his face and growled softly. "Shut up. I'm not doing that." "I don't even know her that well" His wolf retreated a little, irritated, pacing in the back of his mind like a caged predator denied fresh meat. He sat up abruptly. The sheets slid down his torso. He was still shirtless. Still restless. Still breathing in the phantom scent of vanilla, moonlit jasmine, and something darker - something ancient - that clung to Lauretta like a crown. "Fuck," he muttered. "What's going on with me?" He'd had women before. Plenty. Being the only son of Hexta Hunt - Alpha of the largest remaining werewolf territory in America - meant women practically threw themselves at him. But only one woman had ever made his wolf go silent, drop to its belly, and then rise with a snarl of mine. Lauretta. The way she'd looked at him with defiance instead of awe. The way her voice had slid over his skin like silk and claws. The way she offered him nothing but boldness... and desire. And when she kissed him - when he had her beneath him - he felt something that terrified him more than his father's own wrath. Bond. Not full, not complete. But something that felt too close. It scared him enough that he ran. No, he escaped. Leaving her sleeping peacefully because staying meant surrendering. He stood abruptly, grabbed his black shirt from the couch, and tugged it over his head. His wolf snarled again. It hated clothes. Hated human composure. Hated the fact that Savior was intentionally staying away from the only woman who'd ever made him feel alive. But Savior had responsibilities. Heir to the Hunt Legacy. Future Alpha. Bound to duty. Chained by expectations older than he was. He couldn't get attached. He couldn't get weak. He couldn't- His phone buzzed. He glanced at the caller ID. Mom. Savior exhaled slowly, allowing the tension in his back to soften. He loved Jasmine Hunt more than anything. She was the calm in the storm of his father's rule. He answered. "Hey, Mom." "Sweetheart," Jasmine said, her voice warm, composed, and musical. "You sound tired. Did you land safely? Your message last night was short." Savior swallowed. "I'm fine. Just... long night." She hummed knowingly. "Business or pleasure?" He hesitated. His mother didn't pressure. She rarely did. But she always knew. "Business," he lied. "Well," she sighed softly, "your father is pacing the mansion as if the moon itself is late. I believe he expects you home by noon. He said something about a council meeting. And the Philips family is here." Savior stiffened. Perfect. Just what he didn't need: a confrontation with Hexta Hunt and the family trying to push their daughter Amira into his life. "I'll head home soon," he said. "And Savior?" "Hm?" Her voice lowered with concern. "Are you... okay? You sound far away." He shut his eyes briefly. He saw Lauretta's face. He smelled her scent. He felt her breath against his neck. "I'm fine, Mom." A soft sigh. "If you say so, my love. Travel safely." "Always." He hung up, grabbed his jacket, and left. --- THE HUNT MANSION - SILVERCREST CITY Two hours later Savior stepped out of his car and stared up at the property he had been raised in - a massive stone and black-steel estate overlooking the river, banners of the Hunt crest fluttering in the breeze. He heard voices before he even entered. Angry voices. His father's. Damn it. Savior stepped inside, and immediately every warrior bowed slightly. "Alpha's son." "Future Alpha." "Sir." He nodded, though tension already pulled at his jaw. His mother appeared at the top of the stairs like soft moonlight. Jasmine was stunning, all flowing silver hair, warm brown skin, and eyes that carried the softness his father lacked. She descended gracefully and pulled him into a hug. "My boy." Savior hugged her tightly. "Missed you." "I know." She pulled back and cupped his face. "Now breathe before your father gives himself a stroke." Too late. "SAVIOR!" Hexta Hunt's voice boomed from the council room like thunder. Here we go. Savior sighs and followed the sound and stepped inside. Hexta stood at the head of the long table, broad-shouldered, greying hair pulled back, power radiating from him like heat. Beside him sat Dew Philips and his parents... and Amira, who lit up like a lightbulb when she saw Savior. "About time," Hexta barked. Savior kept his expression flat. "I drove in from Manhattan." "You should have flown," his father snapped. "You have responsibilities." Here we go. "What's the emergency?" Savior asked. "The emergency," Hexta said sharply, "is that you've returned from your trip even more distracted than before. Your energy is unstable. Your wolf is restless. You missed three training sessions, and you've been avoiding Amira." Savior didn't look at her. He didn't have to. Amira Philips was beautiful - long-legged, soft-spoken, loyal. A perfect Luna candidate on paper. But the problem? She wasn't Lauretta. "Father," Savior said evenly, "I told you I'm not marrying for political convenience." Amira's mother cleared her throat. "Savior, darling, we're not saying marriage now, just-" "No," Savior cut in. Everyone flinched. Hexta's eyes darkened. "No?" "That's what I said." Silence. Jasmine, standing behind Hexta, subtly shook her head at Savior, pleading for calm. But Savior's wolf was pacing, restless, irritated. It scented Lauretta in his mind, tasted her, wanted her. "Savior," Hexta growled, "you are the next Alpha. You do not get to pick and play with women like a reckless boy. You will form alliances. You will obey the bloodline. You will-" "I'll choose my mate," Savior said quietly. "Not you." Shock rippled around the room like wind. Hexta slammed his hand on the table, power rippling. "You think this is a game?! The Owens incident nearly cost our pack its place twenty-five years ago! You think I'll let you jeopardize the future with a random woman-" "Dad," Savior snapped. "This isn't about the Owens. This is about me." His father's face froze. Hard. Dangerous. "You smell different," Hexta said slowly, darkly. "You smell like a woman." Savior stiffened. Jasmine's eyes widened in worry. Dew Philips choked on his drink. Amira burst into tears quietly. Hexta leaned forward. "Who is she?" Savior's heart pounded. He saw Lauretta's smile. He heard her laugh. He felt her nails down his back. He couldn't tell them. Not because she was human - because she wasn't. Not because she was a stranger - because she wasn't. But because of something far worse: He didn't know her last name... ...or her connection to the one family his father hated most. The outcasts. The Owens. "I don't owe you details," Savior said tightly. Hexta's eyes glowed with Alpha fury. "You owe this pack everything." Jasmine stepped between them. "Enough." Her voice was soft, but it carried command. Even Hexta paused. She turned to her son. "Savior. You're trembling." He was. But not from fear. From wanting. From remembering Lauretta pinned under him, her voice begging for more. Jasmine touched his arm gently. "Come outside with me. Now." He followed her like a lost child. --- Jasmine led him to the moonflower garden behind the estate. The air was cool, the scent sweet, and for a moment, Savior just breathed. His mother watched him closely. "You met someone," she said simply. Savior swallowed. "Mom..." "You don't have to hide everything from me. I raised you. I feel your heart tremble when you're holding something heavy." Damn. She knew him too well. Savior sat on the stone bench, elbows on his knees. "It was one night. I don't... I don't even know her last name." Jasmine's soft gasp was filled with warmth, not judgment. "Oh, sweetheart." "It wasn't supposed to be anything," he continued, running a hand through his hair. "But she's in my head. I can still smell her. I can't sleep. My wolf is... acting insane." "Bond?" Jasmine whispered. "Something close." She exhaled sharply. "Oh Savior... this isn't small." He knew. He absolutely knew. Jasmine sat beside him, her hand gentle on his shoulder. "You deserve love, not political chains. If she's meant for you... you'll see her again." Savior closed his eyes. "I want to." "Then find her." He looked at her sharply. "Dad-" "Let me deal with your father." Her voice stiffened, still warm but iron underneath. "The world has changed. The old rules no longer serve us. If the moon pulled your soul to this woman... then I trust the moon." Savior felt emotion claw at his throat. But then- "It's not going to easy, where would I be able to find her without no surname?" Savior sighs grabbing a handful of his hair. "You will find her, trust me , I will enable my most trusted men to help, don't worry about it" Jasmine said. "Mom..." His phone buzzed. A notification. He glanced down. Social Media Tag: LuneArt Studios - Award Ceremony in Silvercrest City The picture that loaded hit him like a punch. A woman in a cream jumpsuit. Black curls pulled into a sleek ponytail. Golden skin glowing under the lights. Sharp eyes, sharper posture. Boss energy radiating like heat. Lauretta. His breath stopped. She lives in Silvercrest. She's here. In his territory. "Savior?" Jasmine whispered. "What is it?" He didn't answer. He was already standing. Already moving. Already burning. His wolf roared in triumph. Find her. She's ours. Find her NOW. And Savior Hunt did the one thing that would change both their destinies: He went after her. "Savior?!" Jasmine shouts.