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

like some fucking war hero-this mythical, untouchable

But I know better.

what kind

wall-when his fingers wrapped around my

I should've run.

should've locked the door behind him and never

I begged

is open on the kitchen counter-tabs stacked on top of

of

King Blackwell's Rise

Pack Massacre-Five Years

Unsolved Disappearances

Unknown Heir Rumors

The Alpha King's Fiancee.

cursor blinks in

fingers hover over the

what I'm looking

fucked-up proof that I meant

just waiting to find his name

Dead.

Gone.

my fucking system

ugly twist-like the traitorous

bathroom, flipping her hair over one shoulder. "Okay,

015

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Chapter 58

up, barely registering the ripped jeans and crop top she's

tits into.

a minor celebrity for

in the mirror, then swipes my untouched

sure about this whole

"Noted."

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dig into him unless they want to disappear. They

eyes everywhere-spies hidden in every

fingers through my tangled

had spies everywhere, they'd

ex's dick.” That definitely happened back in the pack. I didn't mean for it to but it hit Kallias' crotch when he

"You're not funny."

"I'm fucking hilarious."

buzzer screams through the apartment, cutting off whatever lecture

to

stomping

from that weird guy with the

"It's for me."

it is

isn't marked. No

enough to know when someone wants

found.

in the 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 thanks to

is standard council shit-border patrol logs,

buried at

There's a crest.

in blood-red ink on the corner of a

black wolf with a crown of jagged thorns around its

sweat prickling down my

before-long before I ever found Enoch

woods.

Flash.

voice in

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Chapter 58

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