A Predator's Obsession Novels & Stories

I mark her neck like a claim. But even as I lose myself in her, the conflict rages inside me. I am destroying her carefully built world. I am the darkness she keeps letting in. And the most terrifying truth of all? I don’t want to stop. Because for the first time in my miserable life, this obsession feels like the only thing worth burning everything else for.

I froze, my breath hitching in my throat, as I felt him lean down to whisper something in my ear that had absolutely nothing to do with the merger. He told me that he could see the way my pulse was jumping in my neck and that he knew exactly how much I hated the fact that he wasn't intimidated by me. His voice was a dark, velvet caress that sent a shiver racing down my spine, triggering a visceral reaction in my lower belly that I couldn't ignore. I turned my head to glare at him, my face only inches from his, and for a moment, the world stopped spinning. I saw the hunger in his eyes, a raw, unfiltered desire that mirrored the sudden, desperate ache I felt between my thighs. We were two pred

Not silent, Zavier never allowed true silence but subdued, as if even the walls had learned restraint. The lights were dimmed to their lowest operational glow, long shadows stretching across stone floors polished smooth by years of boots and bloodless orders. Zavier stood near the far end of the chamber, in one of the rooms, hands clasped behind him. He had been waiting. Not impatiently. He did not pace. He did not check the time. He simply waited, the way predators did, the way storms gathered strength without movement.

I had no idea when my…fascination for Kayla grew to this extent. After seeing her for the first time at the crèche parking lot, I felt drawn to her, and the next time at the club, I took that opportunity and offered my proposal that night. Recently though, my fascination for Kayla was growing from mere infatuation into something else. Something more sinister. I refused to put a name on it. But seeing her laugh and bat her fucking eyelashes at a man wearing goddamn colorful khaki shorts, and watching him blatantly undress her with his eyes right on my fucking sidewalk in public, has my blood boiling.

I observed him with such intensity that I felt like a predator, or worse, some obsessive psychopath unable to tear my gaze away. And then, the memories came rushing back, memories of when he fed on me. My throat grew painfully dry, and a familiar, terrifying urge stirred within me: to make him feed again. The thought clawed at me, persistent and hungry. My hands trembled, my fists clenched as if holding back some dark instinct. I could feel the sting of tears forming in my eyes as I silently screamed inside my own head, *What is happening to me?*

And I smiled inwardly. Yes. This would be perfect. I leaned into the pulse of the hollow, letting my presence ripple outward. Every predator instinct, every sense, every fragment of energy radiating from me marked the coming storm. I had not yet revealed my full power. My obsession, my control, my bond with the darkness within me would strike when the moment was precise, and it would shatter everything they thought they had. They believed themselves ready. They believed themselves prepared. They would learn what centuries of obsession could do.

I was going to fucking win it! “I was watching a prey. Eli is my prey and I was observing him in order to know when to strike!” I snapped at his face and walked out on him. Eli was almost out of my sight and I could not let that happen. As a predator I had to keep my prey in my line of sight, watch his every move in order to successfully hunt him down. “Are you sure this is a predator and prey kind of thing like you claim?” Devon followed stubbornly behind me.

A faint smile that never made it to his eyes was on his lips. "Luna, lies wear you out. However, I guess fear has its purposes. It prolongs the life of the prey and sharpens the senses. Luna sat up. Unexpectedly, she said, "And the predator?" "Is it enough to keep him entertained?" She gave her a savage look in response. Silence ruled the room for a heartbeat as his hand froze on the armrest. Then he chuckled slowly. Low, perilous, and leisurely. He repeated, "Entertained." Yes. At least you amuse me. He indicated the chair on the other side of him. "Sit." Her hesitation was evident. "No one told me to," "We told you now." His voice was quiet, but it had a force that held her in place. His f

Every night, the echo of obsession trailed them—the whisper that they were being followed, the certainty that every turn of the corner might reveal her waiting smile. For Adrian, it was worse. He knew obsession when he saw it, because it mirrored his own. The Commander wasn’t just hunting them. She was tethered to them in a way that logic could not cut. Her fixation on Elena was no passing cruelty—it was something darker, more enduring. And Adrian’s role in it, his part in protecting Elena, had made him a rival in that twisted hunger. One evening, as they sheltered in the ruins of an old church, Elena sat with her knees drawn to her chest. The fractured stained glass above threw broken color

And I’d do it every time, until there was nothing left but fire, sweat, and obsession, until he couldn’t exist without me, and I couldn’t without him. Hands on him, feeling the faint pulse from the core embedded in him, I whispered, “We’re just getting started. And damn it, I’ll make sure you know… I own you. All of you. Every swing, every breath, every beat.” And deep in my chest, I felt it, hunger twisting sharper, darker, hungrier. Not lust. Not greed. Pure obsession. Next quest would push us harder. The next dungeon, the next monster, would be nothing but sparks for the fire we’d stoke together.