Babysitting The Amnesiac Lycan King

Chapter 59

King Novel 58

hapter 58

I should feel on top of the fucking world right now.

11

I just landed my first official byline-the kind of shit most interns would sell their souls for-and yet here I am... pacing my shitty apartment like a fucking lunatic, chain-smoking mental breakdowns in the form of stale gas station nicotine gum.

Because the one story that could make my entire carcer-the one I've been chasing my whole goddamn life-

Is him.

The Alpha King.

And his fiance.

The faceless ghost who clawed his way back from death.

The same man who left me behind in the middle of the night with nothing but a cheap silver chain hanging around my neck.

Enoch fucking Blackwell.

The man I babysitted.

My murderer.

I grind the gum harder between my molars, the bitter taste burning the roof of my mouth.

I wish I could hate him.

I wish I could rip this necklace off and throw it into the gutter where it fucking belongs-pretend like I didn't spend the last six months sleeping with it tucked under my pillow.

But I can't.

Because no matter how much I want to carve him out of me-he's still there.

Lodged under my skin like a rusted nail.

But he's about to get married, Taryn.

I keep telling myself that ever since I saw that article and yet I can't seem to wrap my head around it. Do I even have the right to feel like this?

I stare down at the half-empty coffee cup in my hand, the logo smudged from my sweaty grip. Zoe's voice drifts in from the bathroom, humming some shitty pop song while she curls her hair.

We're in my apartment right now, planning to have the day to ourselves.

"I still can't believe Liam actually gave you the gig."

"Me neither," I mutter, tapping the rim of the cup against my bottom lip.

It's been three days since that meeting. Three days since I walked out of his office

with shaking hands and the taste of victo still sharp on my tongue.

And yet the more I dig into the Alpha King...

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The less I want to find.

Every article, every headline-it's the same recycled propaganda bullshit.

Mysterious new ruler rises from the ashes.

A savior to the packs.

king about to get

some fucking war

But I know better.

know exactly what kind of monster

his fingers wrapped around my throat like he was

I should've run.

behind

begged

open on the kitchen

of cards ready

Blackwell's Rise to

Imperial Pack Massacre-Five Years

Unsolved Disappearances

Unknown Heir Rumors

The Alpha King's Fiancee.

cursor blinks in the

hover over the

know what I'm

Some kind of fucked-up proof that I meant something to

maybe I'm just waiting to find his

Dead.

Gone.

of my fucking system

gives a sharp, ugly twist-like the traitorous little bitch it

her hair over one shoulder. "Okay, how do

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Chapter 58

ripped jeans and crop top she's squeezed

tits into.

a minor celebrity for

in the mirror, then swipes my untouched coffee straight out of

whole Alpha King investigation

"Noted."

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him unless they want to disappear. They

got eyes everywhere-spies hidden in every

fingers through my

he really had spies everywhere, they'd have

definitely happened back in the pack. I didn't mean for it to

"You're not funny."

"I'm fucking hilarious."

the apartment, cutting off

about to

groans, stomping

delivery from that weird guy with the raccoon

"It's for me."

it is

downstairs isn't marked.

I've been chasing stories long enough to know

found.

middle of my floor with documents spread

files are old-yellowed edges and black-and-white photos stapled to crisp typewritten reports. It was on the archive I was able to access

standard council shit-border patrol logs, missing

at the

There's a crest.

blood-red ink on the corner of a classified

wolf with a crown of jagged thorns

lurches, cold sweat prickling down my

I ever found Enoch bleeding out in

woods.

Flash.

voice in

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Chapter 58

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