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.

about

like some fucking war hero-this

But I know better.

know exactly what kind of monster wears that

cabin wall-when his fingers wrapped around my throat

I should've run.

door behind him and never looked

I begged him

open on the kitchen counter-tabs stacked on top of

house of

King Blackwell's Rise to

Pack Massacre-Five

Unsolved Disappearances

Unknown Heir Rumors

The Alpha King's Fiancee.

in the

hover over

don't even know what I'm looking

of fucked-up proof

I'm just waiting to find his name buried

Dead.

Gone.

of my fucking system

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

flipping her hair over one shoulder. "Okay, how

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Chapter 58

registering the ripped jeans and crop

tits into.

a minor celebrity

winks at herself in the mirror, then swipes my

still not sure about this whole Alpha King investigation thing, by the

"Noted."

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into him unless they

everywhere-spies hidden in

fingers through my tangled

really had spies everywhere, they'd have killed me

That definitely happened back in the pack. I didn't

"You're not funny."

"I'm fucking hilarious."

through the apartment, cutting off whatever

to launch

stomping toward the

another delivery from that

"It's for me."

is before

waiting downstairs isn't marked. No return

I've been chasing stories long enough to know when

found.

I'm sitting in the middle of my floor with documents spread out around me

old-yellowed edges and black-and-white photos stapled to crisp typewritten reports.

council shit-border patrol logs, missing persons reports, smuggling

buried at

There's a crest.

ink on the corner of a classified

with a crown of jagged

cold sweat prickling

before-long before I

woods.

Flash.

voice

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Chapter 58

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