Babysitting The Amnesiac Lycan King

King Novel 40

Chapter 40

Enoch is sprawled across my chest like a particularly heavy blanket, his face buried in the crook of my neck, his dow berabe warming my skin. His arms have me locked in place, and judging by the way he tenses at even the smallest sound, he's not fully asleep-he never really is.

I brush my fingers through his tangled dark hair, a useless attempt at soothing him, knowing damn well he'll wake up in tem minutes tops, muscles coiled like a spring, eyes darting for threats that aren't there.

He's been here long enough to know this house is safe-or, well, as safe as it gets when you're harboring an amnesiac Lacas King who probably has an army looking for him. But the paranoia runs deep, a survival instinct that won't let him go

His grip tightens when I shift beneath him. A low growl vibrates against my collarbone.

"Relax, big guy," I whisper, easing his fingers off me. "I'm just getting up."

Another growl, softer this time, then he finally releases me.

I slip out from under him, carefully lowering his arm onto the bed before tiptoeing toward the back door

A smart person would stay inside, enjoy the quiet, maybe even try to get some sleep. But curiosity has been the death of many, and I, unfortunately, am not immune to its

grasp.

This is a stupid idea.

The night air is sharp, biting at my exposed skin as I step outside. The packhouse is silent, the kind of silence that thickens the air, makes every tiny noise sound louder than it should be.

A breeze brushes past, rustling the trees. The smell of damp earth and old blood lingers in the air. I take another step, boots crunching against the dirt.

I don't know why I do this to myself-why I feel the need to visit the exact place I almost got torn apart by rogue as if I was some kind of self-destructive idiot. Maybe I just want to prove to myself that I can. Maybe I need to know if I imagined the whole thing.

The laundry area is exactly as I remember it. The rusted metal sink, the stacks of folded sheets that somehow still smell like soap despite being exposed to the elements. Nothing out of place. Nothing lurking in the shadows.

I exhale a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

A bush rustles to my right.

Every muscle in my body goes rigid.

I turn, breath caught in my throat, fingers curling into fists.

Something moves.

My heart slams against my ribs as I inch closer. A shadow shifts behind the leaves. I brace myself, legs tensed, ready to fight or run. I know I should walk

away. I know better than this. But knowing and doing are two different things, and before I can stop myself, I'm peering over the edge of the shrubs.

Then-

A fucking raccoon scurries out, pausing just long enough to shoot me a

judgmental look before waddling off into the

darkness.

I release a breathy laugh, sagging in relief. "You little shit," I mutter, shaking my head.

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Chapter 40

The relief lasts exactly two seconds.

Because the moment I turn around, an arm snakes around my waist, yanking me backward. A rough hand clamps over my mouth before I can scream.

I go rigid, my scream caught in my throat.

"Don't move. Don't scream. Don't look." A deep voice murmurs against my ear,

the words barely more than a whisper, but they might as well be gunshots for how hard my body locks up.

My blood turns to ice.

“Listen carefully," the voice continues, his grip tightening. “Release him. Send him back to the wild where he belongs. Or you'll pay the cost of saving him-and it won't be cheap,"

A second voice, this one a woman's, soft but sharp, like a blade wrapped in silk.

My breath stutters. I twist in their hold, trying to get a look at them, but the man jerks me back.

"I said don't look."

I grind my teeth, adrenaline surging, and wrench myself free with a force that surprises even me. My body whirls, fists clenched, ready to fight-

But they're already gone.

The shadows stretch long and empty. The forest beyond is eerily still, untouched.

pulse thrums

feels like an eternity, waiting, listening. But there's nothing.

Fuck.

sign that anyone was

Just me.

Alone.

***

I don't sleep.

for a

which is a first. He's got an iron grip around me the entire night, his breathing steady, unaware that my mind is eating itself alive, replaying those whispered words on a loop.

gone again.

and start preparing food for his training, my hands working on autopilot while my brain remains stuck on last

the hell

the fuck did they know

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Chapter 40

dowly, trying tw myself. Now's not the time to spiral. Not when I

time I step into the hallway, balancing a tray of food, I'm still distracted. So much so that 1 almost now the way the Omegas I pass bow their heads ever so

up. Since when did

The

given strict instructions

treat me like

course, doesn't

path. She flicks imaginary line off her

know how quickly things can change," she purrs, stepping

in the pack, and the

tray to one

more poisonous. "You should've left the stray in the

My stomach twists.

My blood turns ice-cold.

Those words-

words from

of a reaction. Seraphina's

Right?

No. Not a chance.

for any sign of deception, any hint that she knows exactly

her without another word, pushing down the unease clawing

myself breathe until I'm back

Then I stop short.

My door.

straight through the

scrap of parchment dangles from it,

uneven letters."

what does not belong to

rips down

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Chapter 40

I don't move.

I don't breathe.

hammering, pulse roaring in

I don't think they're talking about

Someone wants me gone.

starting to think they might

89%

in half before I even register what I'm doing. My

in my chest since last night detonates. My breaths come sharp, uneven. The room feels smaller. The walls closer. My heartbeat thunders

It's fine. It's fine.

I just need to-

wrap around me

Enoch.

jump out of my own damn

weight grounding. He

like he's

nudges the side of my head, silent, questioning.

Shit.

The paper.

it behind me, but Enoch is faster. The note is ripped

before I can blink.

"Enoch, don't-"

eyes scan the

His face is unreadable.

he strides to the fireplace,

and watches it

My stomach twists.

knows. He

he doesn't

waiting-daring-him to give me something.

single, damn clue as to

Nothing.