Babysitting The Amnesiac Lycan King

Chapter 77

Chapter 77

I can't fucking breathe.

The ink is bold, deep, and permanent-carved into his skin as a fucking brand.

Taryn.

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It runs across his ribs, curling toward his back, though it belongs there. Like it's always belonged there. No, I belong there.

No. No, that's not-That's not how this is supposed to go.

I turn to Jacob, my voice barely making it past the dryness in my throat. "When-" My lips part, then press together, because what the hell do I even say? Why the fuck is my name on his body? Did he lose a bet? A dare? A goddamn brain cell? Jacob just smirks, tilting his head toward the ring. "Watch the fight."

I want to grab him by the collar and shake the answer out of him, but my hands are frozen at my sides, my mind a screaming whirlwind of no no no no. Because I do want to know. I want to demand it. But I also don't want to hear whatever the hell is about to come out of his mouth.

Because what if it's something I can't handle?

The roar of the underground crowd swells like a heartbeat around me. Enoch steps into the ring, and the air shifts. It's not just because he's massive, or because he carries himself like the goddamn king he is-it's because he's dangerous. And everyone in this building can feel it.

I watch as he rolls his shoulders, stretching out the sheer size of him, muscles shifting under skin as a coiled predator ready to spring. He barely acknowledges the guy he's about to fight-some thick-necked bastard already bouncing on the balls of his feet, cracking his knuckles thinking he has a fucking chance.

The ref barely gets a word in before the guy lunges.

Big mistake.

Enoch doesn't just dodge–he moves quick, shifting his weight so fluidly it's almost lazy. Almost like he's bored. Then he strikes. A punch so fast it barely registers before the guy's head snaps back, blood spraying from his nose as he stumbles. The crowd loses their minds.

But Enoch doesn't stop.

He closes in, planting his feet, throwing another hit, and another. His opponent tries to swing back, but it's a goddamn joke -Enoch catches his fist mid-air, twisting it in a way that makes something crack. The guy screams.

I flinch.

Holy fuck.

Enoch doesn't.

He releases him just to grab him again-fist in his shoulder, dragging him forward, knee slamming up into his ribs hard enough that he folds like a paper doll. The ref is yelling something, but Enoch isn't listening. He's gone, lost in that wild, violent part of him, and his opponent is just trying to fucking survive.

And then-then he really loses it.

A savage punch to the face. Another. Another. His opponent is no longer a fighter; he's a fucking punching bag. The crowd is screaming, but I can't hear shit over the sickening sound of knuckles on flesh. The ref lunges in-grabbing Enoch's

arm,

10:16 Wed, 26 Mar

Chapter 77

shouting at him to stop. For a second, I think he won't.

But then he does.

Barely.

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He jerks back, chest heaving, looking down at the crumpled, bloodied body at his feet. And then he just turns, walking, wwwz like he didn't just beat a man to near unconsciousness in under two minutes.

The ref stumbles forward, throwing his arm up toward Enoch.

"Winner by knockout-"

The rest is drowned out by the explosion of voices, cheers, groans, curses as people either celebrate their winnings or mourn their lost bets. The energy in the room is electric, but I'm still frozen in place, staring at the Enoch I'm seeing him for the first time. Thid version.

His back is to me. Broad, powerful, damp with sweat. My name still inked across his side, his skin will vibrating from the fight, from whatever darkness he let consume him in that ring.

I don't realize I'm shaking until Jacob nudges me.

to know

from Enoch's retreating form, forcing myself to look at Jacob

me too closely. "After he got back to

mean anything to

It shouldn't.

around

Sinclair. He murmurs.

My stomach twists.

lots of things to you had he not taken care of him." Jacob turns back to the ring

choice. Because if he hadn't, I'd be

with everything that's happened-he's here. And my name is inked on

my eyes comes fast, blurring my vision before I can even think about stopping it. I swallow hard, blinking rapidly, forcing the tears back as I turn to look

ring is being cleaned. The world is moving

I feel fucking sick.

already

scrambles after me, still rambling about her latest

talk about that Italian fighter? Holy

wreck me, and

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Chapter 77

the bathroom before I'm dry heaving over

cuts off. "Jesus,

the edge of the counter,

to vomit up air, you're not fine." She looks around wildly, as if the answer to my

just learned. She

up, forcing my expression back into something

blinks.

I nod.

a pout before

you're not walking out

and no human would ever

human or not, I don't

with his name still pressed into my

still burned into his

through the back door and the

blood. The crowd inside is still roaring from the

tapping fast. A second later, her phone pings, and

thoughts spinning in circles. I need to get home. I need to breathe. I

on my

presence. Familiar. Too

fists before I even look.

there he

Enoch Blackwell.

every sculpted muscle, looking effortlessly powerful and maddeningly

expect to see me in his

launches itself into my throat, punching its way out

He didn't abandon me.

He's right here.

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Chapter 77

Now what?

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my head, forcing oxygen into my lungs. No.

job. A goddamn career. A purpose. Enoch

menace, is already staring between us as if she's watching her favorite soap opera. Jacob's car screeches into the parking lot, and he practically flies out of the driver's seat. His gaze flicks to me, then to Enoch,

His voice

Zoe frowns. "But-"

grabs her

"I was just-"

mid-babble, and he starts

to give

but squeaks as she kicks

if I

Then it's just us.