Triangle Of Self Obsession Na Novels & Stories

You good? Sara (mutual acquaintance): So… uh… Layla really did it, huh? He frowned. Swiped to open I*******m. And froze. There it was. Layla Williams – @LaylaLuxe_ A full-face selfie. Flawless. Not a tear in sight. Glossy lips. Sunglasses. The kind of photo you post when you want to look sad but untouchable. The caption made his jaw tighten. “Sometimes the hardest thing to do is walk away from a life that no longer fits the woman you’re becoming. After years of silence, I’m choosing myself. Separation isn’t failure—it’s freedom. #FinallyFree #Healing #Separation”

"I'm trying to protect you, Enzo. You're still young and impulsive. You don’t see the bigger picture." A surge of indignation roared through me, replacing any fear I’d felt moments before. Young and impulsive? How dare he underestimate me. I took a defiant step forward, my heart racing in my chest, its rhythm quickening with each pulse. "I’m not a child, Father. I understand what’s at stake. I want to go to the triplets’ pack, and I need to see Isabella. I won’t let her ruin everything that we’ve worked for."

I collided with his enemy to bring him down, oh God. I am such a terrible person.

She screamed , her voice breaking. “ You are being selfish!! This is not about me;. If I back out of this agreement , I am ruined . The whole family is ruined!! The family name would be dragged through the mud and I would be thrown into prison for debt and fraud…… Is that what you want?!!. What would happen to your brother, Leon , when that happens?!. This is bigger than both you and me and our silly strife “. “ Xavier Knight is ready to invest in the company and make the fraud charges go away . All he asks for in return is a wife of convenient and a marriage contract of two years to secure a business deal”

I was a pushover. "No," I breathed, slamming my forehead against the bloodied mirror. "She's playing games with me. Why should I let her win? I am Denzel Amoris, the tribrid king of the mountain wolves. I am no weakling," I muttered. Panting hard, I stared at my distorted reflection on the broken mirror. I could barely recognize myself. My rage had consumed me until I could no longer think rationally. The cuts on my forehead were no longer bleeding, and the pain was long gone. But, I wanted more. I believed that I deserved it.

Obsession, a word Jareth had said many times and still did not understand how he should interpret it. The way he said it, it seemed like he was saying a flattering kind of love greater than love itself. But, obsessions are not healthy. So, that's what makes me hesitate. "I really want to know what you mean by obsession. Because I understand very different things and I doubt that's what you want to tell me" I murmur and Jareth nods. "I'll explain when I have a more focused idea of how to explain you, because you are my obsession. Now we'd best get out before we get any later." Jareth says and I immediately deny knowing how I am right now, for succumbing to my husband's temptation.

More dangerous. And in his own room, Ronan stared at the red mark on his cheek in the mirror, a dark, satisfied smile curving his lips. One taste would never be enough. She was already his obsession, he smirked.

Let him run. Because every time he comes back a little faster. A little hungrier. A little more mine. He thinks he's fighting me. He's not. He's fighting the part of himself that already decided. And when he finally stops fighting...when he looks at me and there's no lie left in his eyes....I won't gloat. I will just hold him tighter. Because that's what obsession is, not fireworks, not chains. Just the quiet knowledge that he belongs here, with me, in the dark.

"But I cannot imagine a world without you. You are the disease and the antidote. The cage and the key. You are my scars." I place one hand on Sasha's cheek, one hand on Niko's. "And I believe I am yours." In their eyes, I see the same conflict, the same love-hate, the same terrifying and saving dependency. We are a triangle with sharp edges, wounding each other, yet impossible to separate without tearing everything apart. The new pact is not written on velvet or sealed with money. It is carved raw into our flesh and our souls. We are three disfigured beings, and our deformities fit together to create a new shape, monstrous perhaps, but perfectly, terribly unique.