Alpha's Rejected becomes the Lycan's Obsession-Chapter 43: You’re no match for me

Tessy’s heart raced, pounding like a trapped bird against her ribs, as her wide eyes caught the dark, glistening stain of blood on Roman’s torn shirt. She would have believed it was not blood if not for the strong metallic smell, and the splatters across his face, arms, and knuckles.

Her mind immediately darted to worst-case scenarios, each one more terrible than the last, flashing through her thoughts like lightning. Yet before she could even get a word out, her lips barely parting, Roman cut her off with a sharp question, his voice slicing through the tense air between them.

"What’s going on with you?" he asked, his tone suspicious but not in any way tired or worn out as his disheveled appearance suggested. His piercing gaze bore into her, searching for something.

Tessy blinked rapidly, taken off guard by the suddenness of his interrogation. "What do you mean?" she shot back, her voice steady despite the way her pulse fluttered wildly in her throat, betraying her calm facade.

"The noise," Roman said, his eyes narrowing to slits as he tilted his head slightly, listening for any further disturbances. "I just heard a crash."

His dark gaze shifted toward the slim gap between the door and its frame, his body tensing as if he could will himself to see through the barrier, desperate for a glimpse of whatever chaos lay inside.

Tessy reacted instantly, pressing herself more firmly against the frame, her body rigid with the effort of blocking his view.

"It was nothing," she replied, forcing a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "Just... just some rearranging." She added, the words tumbling out too quickly.

Roman didn’t buy it. His sharp eyes flickered over her face, noting every detail. "You’re sweating," he observed, his voice low. "And your eyes are red." His gaze was unflinching, his brow furrowing in a way that made it clear he was already unraveling the lie she was trying so hard to sell. Also he could hear her heart pounding even though he didn’t say anything about that. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com

"I’m fine, really," she insisted, her fingers clutching the doorframe a little too tightly, her knuckles turning bone-white under the strain. "Like I said, I was doing some rearranging."

Roman’s eyes flashed with something unreadable, a shadow passing through them like a storm cloud, and he took a deliberate step closer. But then, as if remembering himself, he glanced down at the blood staining his clothes and stopped advancing, his jaw tightening.

"You know there are servants here for that," he reminded her, his voice dropping a notch, taking on a tone that was almost gentle, if not for the underlying edge of suspicion. "If you needed help, you should’ve called them. You don’t need to do anything on your own."

"Are there female servants?" she countered, her voice firmer now, a defensive edge creeping in. "There are things I can’t let a man do for me."

Roman hesitated, caught off guard by the response, and for a moment, he simply stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then, silently, he made a mental note to employ a female servant for her comfort.

With that, he backed off, though the tension in his shoulders suggested he wasn’t entirely convinced. He had a gnawing feeling that something was going on, but since she didn’t want to spill it, he wouldn’t force her—not yet.

He turned around to walk away, his boots scuffing against the floor, and Tessy’s nursing instincts kicked in, her trained eyes catching the way he favored his left side slightly.

"You’re injured," she said, the words slipping out before she could stop them. "You should go to the hospital."

Roman paused mid-step, his back still to her. "It’s not my blood," he uttered, the words heavy with unspoken meaning, making Tessy’s heart race all over again. Then, after a beat, he added, "But I’d appreciate it if you offer to clean me up just like the first time we met."

Tessy’s frown deepened, her lips pressing into a thin line. Without another word, she retreated into her room and shut the door firmly behind her.

Now, in the comfort of solitude, Tessy sagged against the door, her legs trembling beneath her as if they might give out at any moment. Anger surged through her veins like wildfire, hot and consuming, as Roman’s last words echoed in her mind. The sheer audacity of him, to remind her of the day she’d made the mistake that had landed her in this mess—it made her blood boil.

Her eyes swept across the room, taking in the disarray. The remnants of her dream, the one that had sent her into this frenzy, flashed behind her eyelids. As she tried to make sense of it all, her mind inevitably drifted back to her missing mother, the hollow ache in her chest flaring anew. Where was she? The gnawing confusion twisted inside her like a knife, unbearable in its intensity. She shook her head, as if the motion could physically dispel the thoughts, and forced herself to focus.

"I need to find out what’s happening to me," she whispered to herself, the words barely audible. Moving quickly, she began straightening the room, her hands working on autopilot. She gathered the scattered papers, stacking them with sharp, precise movements, and righted the overturned chair with more force than necessary. Every second counted. She had to hurry.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Cody’s hand hovered over the doorknob a fraction of a second before the footsteps reached the threshold, his heightened senses already alerting him to the approaching presence. His eyes, however, narrowed into slits when he saw who stood on the threshold, his posture instantly stiffening.

"Sephira," he muttered, his frown deepening into something darker, more dangerous. Without thinking, he stepped forward, his broad frame filling the doorway as he blocked her path. "You’re not allowed in here," he said, his voice a low growl, "and you know it."

But before he could say another word, Sephira’s fingers clenched into a tight fist at her side, her knuckles whitening with the force of it. Her eyes, already an unsettling shade, turned completely white, devoid of any pupil or iris, locking onto his with a cold, unwavering stare that sent a shiver down his spine.

Cody felt it immediately—a force, invisible yet crushing, slamming into him like a battering ram. The impact lifted him clean off his feet, his body jerking backward as if yanked by an unseen hand. He crashed against the hallway floor with a heavy thud, the breath knocked from his lungs in a pained gasp. The door, now unguarded, stood wide open, a silent invitation for Sephira to stride in unchallenged.

"I told you not to mess with me," she said coldly, her voice like ice as she stepped over Cody’s sprawled body, her heels brushing against his arm as if he were nothing more than an inconvenient obstacle. "And I told you not to try to stop me again." Her words carried a sharp, cutting edge, echoing through the entranceway as she sauntered deeper into the house, her movements smooth and unhurried.

Cody, still gasping for air, clutched at his chest with one hand as he fought to steady his breathing. He writhed on the floor, pain radiating through his limbs, but even in his compromised state, he managed to shoot a venomous glare at Sephira’s retreating figure.

The sound of his ragged gasps drew attention from the the next room. Within seconds, Daniel and Trevor appeared in the hallway, their expressions shifting from curiosity to sharp alertness as they took in the sight of Cody on the floor, his face twisted in agony.

Trevor, his shirt still smeared with drying bloodstains, looked utterly drained, his body slumped under the weight of exhaustion. His face, pale and drawn, contorted further as his gaze flicked from Cody to Sephira, who was already making her way toward the staircase with deliberate, unhurried steps.

"What the hell is all this for?" Trevor demanded, his voice thick with irritation and fatigue. His brows knitted together as he studied Sephira, trying to anticipate her next move. But Sephira didn’t even glance in his direction, continuing up the stairs as if the three of them were nothing more than minor nuisances.

Trevor’s jaw tightened, his exhaustion making his already short temper even more volatile. He moved to block her path at the same time as Daniel did, the two of them forming a united front.

"Are you crazy?" Trevor snapped, his voice rising. "You think you can just walk in here whenever you like, despite knowing there’s an order not to let you in?" He was cautious, his eyes locked onto Sephira’s still-white ones, well aware of the danger she posed in this state.

"Get out of my way, Trevor," Sephira said, her tone eerily calm, almost conversational. "I’ve tolerated your bullshit enough. Don’t make me move you myself."

"Move me?" Trevor let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "You overestimate yourself, Sephira."

"I don’t," she replied smoothly. "I know I can’t stand you on a normal day, but right now, I can sense your weakness. You’re exhausted because you’ve been fighting all night." Her gaze flicked dismissively to Daniel. "And in your current state, you’re no match for me. Neither is this stupid werewolf trying to block my path."

"Who are you calling a stupid werewol—aghhh!" Daniel’s indignant retort was cut short as Sephira struck without warning. A surge of unseen energy slammed into him, lifting him off his feet and sending him crashing into the wall with a sickening thud.

Trevor lunged forward, but he was too slow—Sephira’s power hit him next, a brutal force that sent him sprawling to the ground with a pained groan. The two men lay where they’d fallen, momentarily incapacitated, as Sephira continued up the stairs without so much as a backward glance.