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.

ghost king about

some fucking war hero-this mythical, untouchable figure wrapped in

But I know better.

exactly what kind of

fingers wrapped around my throat like he

I should've run.

the door behind him

begged him to

on the kitchen counter-tabs

a house of cards ready

King Blackwell's Rise to

Pack

Unsolved Disappearances

Unknown Heir Rumors

The Alpha King's Fiancee.

cursor blinks in the search

hover over the

what I'm looking

Some kind of fucked-up proof that

just waiting to find his name buried under

Dead.

Gone.

fucking

twist-like the traitorous

of the bathroom, flipping her hair over

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Chapter 58

barely registering the ripped jeans and

tits into.

you'd fuck a minor celebrity for

She winks at herself in the mirror, then swipes my untouched coffee straight out of

not sure about this whole Alpha King investigation thing,

"Noted."

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don't dig into him unless they want to

eyes everywhere-spies hidden in every

dragging my fingers through

really had spies everywhere, they'd have killed me years ago

a stapler at my ex's dick.” That definitely happened back in the pack. I didn't mean for

"You're not funny."

"I'm fucking hilarious."

the apartment,

about to launch

groans, stomping

from that weird guy with

"It's for me."

is before she even presses the

isn't marked. No return

long enough to know when someone wants to

found.

the middle of my floor with documents

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

shit-border

buried at the

There's a crest.

ink on the corner

wolf with a crown of jagged thorns around

stomach lurches, cold sweat

symbol before-long before I ever found

woods.

Flash.

voice

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Chapter 58

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