Babysitting The Amnesiac Lycan King

Chapter 82

Chapter 82

1 fucking blink. Once. Twice,

Zoe?

She's twirling on the dance floor like a damn ballerina on speed, all while I stand frozen, gripping my drink so tight I'm surprised the glass doesn't crack.

+68)

This has to be some cosmic joke, My best friend-my work best friend, my safe- space-from-werewolf-drama best friend- should be thousands of miles away, slumped in her cubicle, ranting about deadlines and how our boss is a "hot-but- terrifying dictator."

Instead, she's here, in the middle of a club in the Maldives, throwing her arms up like she just won the lottery.

Why is she in my vacation?

"What the actual fuck," I breathe, setting my drink down before I crush it I immediately rush towards her. Bodies shift, sweat-slicked skin brushing against me, but I barely notice. The only thing I see is my friend, the only thing I hear is the hammering in my chest.

When I reach Zoe, I grab her wrist, yanking her around so hard she stumbles. She turns, her eyes locking on mine. Her mouth drops open. "Taryn?"

"No, the fucking Pope," I deadpan. "What are you doing here?"

Zoe still looks like she's trying to process reality, her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. "I-wait, what are you doing here?!"

Before I can answer, a new voice cuts in, smooth and teasing. "I brought her."

Zoe and I turn at the same time. The woman standing there is beautiful. Too beautiful. Like something hand-carved with the sole purpose of ruining lives. She smiles, saccharine and sharp, eyes glittering under the neon lights.

And then it hits me. The familiarity. The way my stomach churns with unease before my brain catches up. She was there. Back in the pack. She handled it. My pulse slams.

It was this woman, the woman I heard cooing Celeste's crying figure when she was scolded by her own father. She's one who said she's going to handle it.

And she did. She did by ruining my reputation.

Brooke.

Long, dark waves. Full lips curved in amusement. A beauty that's almost hypnotic if you don't know better. But I do know better. Because I've seen her before. No, not just seen her-heard her.

My body goes rigid as the realization drops a fucking anvil on my chest. I take a step back, my stomach flipping. Brooke's gaze flickers with something, a little smirk curling her lips, like she can see the moment the realization clicks for me.

And she's enjoying it.

Zoe, completely unaware of the absolute hellstorm brewing inside me, giggles. Fucking giggles. "Isn't she the best? She just -poof!-surprised me with this whole trip. Told me I deserved a little getaway, and next thing I know, I'm on a plane."

1/5

Fri, 28 Mar

Chapter 82

She beams at Brooke, like she's talking about a fairy godmother and not a snake

in designer heels.

I don't smile. "How generous," I say flatly.

Brooke just tilts her head, her eyes gleaming. "I thought she could use a little fun."

I bet you did.

84%

My mouth is dry, my throat locking up as I try to make sense of it all. Brooke isn't here by coincidence. She didn't bring Zoe out of the kindness of her heart. She knew exactly what she was doing. She came for me.

Brooke tilts her head, her smirk unwavering. "Zoe, give us a moment, would you?"

Zoe hesitates. She glances between us, finally picking up on the tension. "Um... are you guys okay?"

"I said," Brooke's smile drops, "give us a moment."

Zoe, still high on whatever spell Brooke has her under, leans into me. "You know, you really should be thanking her. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't even be here! And what are the odds we'd run into you of all people?"

Oh, I don't know, Zoe. Maybe because she fucking planned it?

Zoe barely manages a nod to Brooke again before slipping away, and just like that, I'm alone with the woman who played a hand in tearing my life apart.

The bass-heavy music pounds, making my bones vibrate. Around us, people are lost in their own worlds, drinking, dancing, laughing-completely oblivious to the fact that the air between Brooke and me is so razor-sharp it could slice someone

open.

Brooke moves first, stepping closer, her body swaying to the beat. "You're so stiff, Sinclair," she hums. "Relax. Dance."

my arms, my nails biting into my skin. "Cut the

you

want?"

of her dress catching the light as she laughs. "Straight to the point. I

back, but her grip tightens. "Are you

ambitious." Her fingers dig

I don't move.

joke in the world. Then, without warning, she

the rhythm of the music. When I

I

her head. "Now, why would I do

controlled. "You already had your fun," I say,

expression doesn't change, but I see the flicker of satisfaction in her eyes. "Enough?” she echoes. Then she leans

"Never."

2/5

11:19 Fri, 28 Mar

Chapter 82

spine, but I don't let it show. I hold her

the fuck are

with me. "Oh, Taryn." Her

I wait.

she says

"Enoch."

body locks. My stomach

that trouble for Celeste, did you?" She scoffs. "That woman is nothing but a stepping stone. A desperate little pawn willing

hear it confirmed, laid out so casually, makes my blood fucking

my eyes, pulse thudding. "You're delusional if you think Enoch would

a low, knowing laugh. "Aren't you confident?" She

this time, I

I match her.

because I refuse to stand here like

little girl while she plays

So I dance.

Her grin falters.

didn't think I'd fold that easily,

movements, but there's

eyes-irritation. Annoyance.

song builds, the crowd moving around us in a blur of color and light. I keep my gaze locked on hers, my confidence

the first time, her mask slips. Just a

me like a taunt. My grip tightens around her hand, but she just smirks, her perfectly

loves you?" Her voice is syrupy, sickly sweet, as

pities me.

locks. "I don't think.

her head, eyes glinting with something dangerously

is

woman?"

words slam into my chest like a blunt force, and my breath catches. My

desk. The name. The pictures. The woman he's been looking for. The woman

3/5

28 Mar

Chapter 82

me, reveling in my reaction. "Oh," she coos. "You

music throbs around us, but

My fingers twitch to strangle the satisfaction off her face, but she steps in close, pressing something small and worn into my palm. Her fingers curl mine over it, sealing it

in, whispering against my car, "You look just like

Then she's gone.

the scent of sweat and alcohol

into my ribs as I lift

Two kids.

is unmistakably Enoch-rigid, serious, even as a boy. But the

all bright eyes and

she looks

forms in my throat. My hands feel numb. My vision blurs

mind trips over itself, desperate to make

real. This isn't

is,

I can't breathe.

walls of the club press in, the flashing lights making

the photo, the edges digging into

skin.

than a shadow of someone he lost?

further, warm hands slide around my waist,

A deep, possessive hum vibrates against my neck as Enoch presses in from behind, lips brushing my

"Now every man in this club is looking at you

picture into the pocket of my dress so fast I almost crumple it.