Babysitting The Amnesiac Lycan King

King Novel 47

Chapter 47

Chapter 47

TARYN

Everything fucking hurts.

Like, everything.

93%

If I didn't already feel like death warmed over, Enoch carrying me as though I am some fragile damsel would've been my last straw. But honestly? I don't have the energy to argue.

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My body is a mess of bruises, my ribs feel like someone took a sledgehammer to them, and I'm pretty sure my ankle is just there for decoration at this point.

Still, I'm not entirely useless. I tighten my grip around his neck, ignoring the way my fingers tremble, and mutter, "You're bleeding."

Enoch doesn't answer. His jaw is locked so tight I swear I hear his teeth creak. His face is a storm cloud of fury, those crimson eyes burning as he scans our surroundings as if he's expecting an ambush at any second. He's probably right.

Behind us, Kallias moves like a shadow-silent, lethal, and honestly a little terrifying. He's quick with a knife, even quicker with his fists, and he doesn't hesitate when he slits a guard's throat so fast the guy doesn't even get the chance to scream.

I should probably be unnerved by that. But after everything? The only thing I feel is grim satisfaction.

The air shifts as we burst through the dungeon's exit, and-holy shit-fresh air.

It slams into me like a slap, crisp and cold and biting, and my lungs suck it in greedily. I didn't realize how much I missed the sky until now. The forest stretches ahead, bathed in silver moonlight, the trees swaying in the wind like they're whispering secrets.

We're free.

For now.

A shiver wracks my body, but it's not from the cold. Enoch must notice because his arms tighten around me, his warmth bleeding into my frozen skin. His scent is everywhere-woodsmoke and something wild, something him. It's grounding. Comforting in a way I don't want to unpack right now.

"Almost... safe," he murmurs, his voice rough and barely strung together. He's getting better with words, but it's clear speaking in full sentences still takes effort.

Kallias pauses up ahead, scanning the path. "Coast is clear," he mutters, but he doesn't relax. None of us do.

My heartbeat pounds in my ears as Enoch strides forward, hie moves with a purpose yet still careful, treating me as if I might shatter if he's not gentle. I hate that. I hate feeling weak. But I bite my tongue because I know if I open my mouth right now, it's just going to be a whole lot of exhausted, delirious bitching.

Branches snap underfoot. Shadows shift between the trees. Every sound is a possible threat, every rustling leaf another reminder that we're not out of this yet. Then Enoch stops.

His entire body goes rigid, a low growl curling from his throat.

I feel it vibrate against my side, and I don't know what the hell he senses, but his grip on me tightens almost painfi breathing slows, controlled and dangerous, and when he finally speaks, his voice is nothing more than a low, deadly promise.

lis

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Chapter 47

"No more... running."

Though he's made a decision neither Kallias nor I get a say

want to argue. Tell him we need to run. That I'm not in the mood for some alpha male, "I'll protect you" bullshit when I can barely keep my eyes open. But I swallow

He means it.

And I believe him.

licks down my spine, something both terrifying and relieving. Because if there's one thing I've learned about

one-is going to stop

to the scent of clean linen and something distinctly... masculine. Earthy, like pine and smoke, with a trace of something darker underneath. Something that clings to my skin, sinking

Enoch.

eyes crack open, and there he is. Sitting in a chair by my bed, broad shoulders hunched, arms crossed over his chest, head tipped forward in exhausted defeat. His dark

fucking statue while I bled out on

1. me.

I never thought I'd miss. The blankets are soft, wrapping me in a cocoon of warmth, and for

every nerve,

little adventure that

head-slowly, because my neck is apparently made

Enoch.

intense it could melt steel. His

hell, but I manage

he exhales through his nose, and-oh my god-was that a fucking

a huff.

my face. His fingers are rough, calloused,

to break the

end this...

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05:54 Mon, 24 Mar

Chapter 47

whisper, but it crashes over

But there's a look

It's going to

And honestly?

think I'm

itself in

sit up, but a sharp pain shoots through my ribs, stopping me cold. My breath hisses between my teeth.

voice is rough, thick

"No," I lie. Badly.

it, but his hands are already reaching, brushing the blanket aside,

where bruises bloom ugly and deep. His

jumps in

don't answer. I don't need to. He

they want to break

time, but

looking away. "It

Wrong thing to say.

cups my chin, forcing me to look at him. There's nothing soft about his grip. It's not cruel, not meant to hurt, but firm. Unyielding. His eyes- those damn eyes-are molten, burning with an

is pure gravel, rasping over my skin like a

should tell him to stop. That he doesn't need to get involved. But something in me-the stupid, reckless, self-destructive part-wants to see what he'd do if I didn't stop him. If I just let him be exactly who I know he is beneath the fog of his memory

A King.

a shiver down

hold on my

resting there. His thumb skims the edge of my

drops, softer this time. "You safe

Safe.

slow, bitter smile curls