All Chapters of Spellbound by Obsession: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

The breakfast was served in the informal dining room. A smaller, more intimate table where the family gathered when there were no guests. Celeste was radiant, serving pancakes and fresh fruit as if she were feeding an army.William read the newspaper — the paper kind, as always — and grumbled something about the stock market. Victoria had her tablet, but she set it aside occasionally to make sarcastic comments. Eleanor was already dressed in her horseback riding uniform, her blonde hair tied in a ponytail.“Evelyn, darling!” Celeste saw me enter and smiled. “Sit here, next to me. I saved the most golden pancakes for you.”“Thank you, Celeste.” Evelyn sat down, and I took the seat beside her.“And you, Christopher.” Celeste looked at me with an expression I knew well. “Did you sleep well?”“Very well, Mom.”“Good. Was your room in order?”“Perfect.”“And the sheets? Were they comfortable?”“Yes, Mom.”“And the pillow? Wasn’t it too high?”“The pillow was great.”“And…”“Celeste.” Willi

We returned to our seats in the VIP area as if nothing had happened. Mortyss was tense beside me, his jaw clenched, his eyes still slightly violet under the brown disguise. His hand would not let go of mine.In the VIP box on the other side, Celeste waved cheerfully. I waved back, the rehearsed smile on my face. Victoria raised her glass, William was focused on the competition.They didn’t know. They couldn’t know.“Are you okay?” Mortyss asked, his voice low.“I am.” I squeezed his hand. “I’m just processing.”“Processing what?”“That even at a horseback riding competition, with your family a few meters away, there are still people who want to kill me.”“They’re not people. It’s the Council.” He paused. “And they wouldn’t kill you. They want your blood. Your power. You’re too valuable to be discarded.”“That’s not comforting.”“It wasn’t meant to be.”On the track, Eleanor finished her last lap. Apollo jumped the final obstacle with impressive grace, and the crowd exploded in applause

The clock on the nightstand read three in the morning when I felt it.It wasn’t a sound or a smell. It was a vibration, a disturbance in the air, like ripples in a still lake. Residual power. The power Evelyn and I had released during training in the garden. Someone had sensed it. Someone had come to investigate.Hunters.I slid out of bed, careful not to wake Evelyn. She was sleeping deeply.“I’ll be right back.” I said softly. My tail emerged and tucked the blanket around her better.I put on only the gray sweatpants that were on the armchair beside the bed. There was no time for more. I left the room in silence.The mansion was dark and quiet, all the family members asleep in their rooms. I crossed the hallway barefoot, my feet making almost no sound on the cold marble. I descended the curved staircase and exited through the back door that led to the garden.The night air was cold and still. The full moon bathed Celeste’s rose bushes, and the shadows of the century-old oak stretche

The alarm clock went off at eight in the morning.I smashed it. Literally. My hand came down on the clock with a force I still didn’t know how to control, and the poor thing broke into three pieces. Plastic, gears, and batteries scattered across the nightstand.“Shit.” I muttered, staring at the wreckage.A meow sounded from the corner of the room. Nox was curled up on his favorite cushion, the one Evelyn had insisted he keep, his black eyes watching me with an expression that clearly said: “Again?”“Don’t look at me like that. It was an accident.”Another meow. This one longer.“Three objects broken in two days. That’s not an accident. It’s a pattern.”“Are you judging me?”Nox yawned, revealing his crystal teeth.“I’m stating facts.”“Did it happen again?” Derek’s sleepy voice came from the other side of the bed. He was lying face down, his face half-buried in the pillow, his dark eyes watching me with a mixture of amusement and concern.“I just wanted to turn off the alarm.”“You c

The day was surprisingly peaceful.After the shampoo incident, Derek and I spent the morning practicing strength control.He gave me objects to hold — a cup, a book, a pen — and I tried not to break them. The results were mixed.The cup survived. The book lost a page. The pen… well, the pen was crushed into dust.“Progress.” Derek declared, sweeping up the remains of the pen.“Is this progress?”“Yesterday you broke a toothbrush and a door handle. Now, only a pen. This is progress.”“The cup survived.” I reminded him.“The cup survived.” He agreed. “Let’s celebrate with pancakes.”“We already had pancakes for breakfast.”“Then we have pancakes for lunch. Pancakes are versatile.”Nox, from his spot on the sofa, emitted a meow that sounded like: “you two have a terrible diet.”“You don’t eat.” I retorted.“I feed on vital energy. It’s much healthier.”“Snob.”“Realist.”The afternoon brought the Super Bowl. Derek set up an improvised configuration in the living room, the sofa turned tow