Babysitting The Amnesiac Lycan King

King Novel 39

Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Enoch shouldn't be behaving like this if he doesn't feel what I do.

He steadies me effortlessly, but the second he realizes just how close we are, he recoils like I burned him. His body jerks back so fast I nearly topple over again. It's almost funny-the big, bad, amnesiac Lycan King acting like I'm a fucking

disease.

"Thanks for the save, asshole," I mutter, brushing dirt off my palms.

He just grunts as an answer, those gaze barely looking at me, his expression is once again unreadable. His reactions are always a gamble. Sometimes he's completely unreadable, like now, and other times, he looks at me like he wants to devour me whole. No in-between.

We go about the rest of the training session in tense, loaded silence, dodging, striking, moving in sync. It should be like every other day, but there's something different. An energy that linger-suffocating with its thickness, even after we finish and the rest of the pack drifts away, sneering in my direction as they pass.

Nothing new.

The rest of the day was like usual ever since the Alpha announced that stupid command: the pack are either pretending we don't exist or shooting me glares that could strip flesh from bone.

Good. Business as usual.

But that's not what sticks with me as I walk back to the packhouse. It's that feeling again.

The one that has nothing to do with my usual paranoia.

Someone is watching me.

I feel it. It prickles along my spine, an unwelcome presence in the shadows, just out of sight, lurking. I glance back toward the deep forest, scanning between the thick trees. Nothing but darkness stretching beyond the clearing.

Still. The feeling doesn't fade.

***

Night falls, and I realize I haven't seen Enoch in hours. Not on the training ground, not in the kitchen, not even perched on his usual windowsill, obsessing over that damn book about the royal family he always reads as though it holds the answers to his missing past.

That's when I find him.

On the bed. Unmoving. A fevered flush crawling up his neck, his skin clammy, his breath shallow.

Shit.

I don't panic. I'm not that girl. But something about seeing him like this makes my stomach twist. He's strong, impossibly strong, but right now, he looks... vulnerable. And I don't fucking like it.

"Enoch," I say, shaking his shoulder lightly. "Hey. What the hell is wrong with you?"

Nothing. He shifts, the movement sluggish, barely there.

Double shit.

I move to call Dr. Lisa. Because sure, it's just a fever, but this is Enoch. Not just any wolf. A Lycan. And something tells me his biology doesn't follow the same rules.

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Chapter 39

Before I can leave, though, a burning-hot hand latches onto my wrist. "Don't," Enoch rasps.

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His fingers tighten, and when I turn, his forest greenneyes-dazed, wild-are locked onto me.

"Stay" he rasps.

weird to my chest. I chalk it up

a doctor, Enoch," I argue, trying to pry

His grip tightens. "No."

insistent this time, more...

the idea of me leaving is physically painful for

"I don't care if

needles or white coats or

pained,

"You" he breathes, "Enough."

My throat goes dry,

Oh,

it. The barest flicker of something primal lurking

Lycan

a fever. His body is changing, shifting, something

first time since I found him bleeding out in the woods, I realize just how unfairly

again, this time harder, until I stumble forward, right into

flex against my wrist, then

don't just stumble. I crash, landing half on top of him, my palm splaying against

but intent, watching me as if I'm

ribs, a reckless thing, and for the briefest, stupidest moment, I think about

"You're

tugs at his lips before, his eyes flutter closed. His breathing evens out, but his arm

n't loosen. He holds

I should argue, tell him this is a stupid

in the way he's holding me, something raw

just for

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Chapter 39

myself

myself be

on my chest should

suffocating, considering he's half a furnace, radiating

warmth seeps into my skin, grounding me, lulling

rhythmic, tickling the exposed skin

he's asleep if he didn't suddenly mumble,

him. "I'll

voice barely above

creeps

the rustling leaves outside, the

something else.

stroke through his damp

him from the inside out. "What do you

voice is eerily

goes rigid. "Excuse

flat, disinterested. "The Omega whored her way into his bed. The

fuck did he just

his arms tightening

pillow out from under him.

right away, just shifts, nuzzling against my sternum like I didn't just

"More."

More what? More fucking slander?"

say the Alpha will regret

humorless laugh. "Oh, will

say." His voice drops lower, almost guttural. "That he

chest. My pulse hammers in my

though my words satisfy

fuck