Babysitting The Amnesiac Lycan King

Chapter 88

Chapter 88

I should have left the fucking office when I had the chance.

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Instead, I'm sitting on the floor, my back pressed against Liam's desk, my heartbeat thudding against my ribs as if it's trying to break free. The file is in my lap, its weight far heavier than paper and ink should ever be. My fingers twitch as I flip it

open.

The first page stares back at me. My name. My birthday. My blood status- Omega.

Basic shit.

I scan further, flipping through old reports and documents though I'm peeling back layers of my own existence. Foster records. Riverstone adoption papers. Thirteen years old, found near the pack borders, malnourished but unharmed. No immediate family traced.

Bullshit.

I keep reading. My fingers tighten around the pages, my breath coming quicker. The more I search, the more I realize what's missing. My mother's name is listed- Mary Lancaster. My father-Edward Lancaster. No known cause of death. Just... deceased. No details, no reports, no explanations.

I press my palm against my forehead, willing myself to stay calm. This was supposed to give me answers. Instead, it's feeding me the same half-truths I've been living with for years.

This isn't enough.

Liam has more. He has the damn flash drive. The one he dangled in front of me like a fucking bone. "You want the truth?" he'd said. "Give me the file, and I'll give you the drive."

Yeah. Right.

My eyes flick up to the desk. Maybe he left it. Maybe he didn't trust himself to keep it with him.

It's a long shot, but I've done dumber shit before.

I get on my knees, ignoring the way my pulse skitters, and pull open the top drawer. Nothing but pens and a half-empty bottle of whiskey. Next drawer-stacks of folders, invoices, memos.

My breath hitches when I spot the bottom drawer. Locked.

That's it.

I grab the handles and yank, but it doesn't budge. My fingers search the desk frantically, rifling through loose papers and files, knocking over a stapler and a goddamn coffee mug before-keys.

Tucked under a stack of notes.

I snatch them up, hands shaking, and jam one into the lock. It doesn't fit. Neither does the second.

Come on. Come on.

The third clicks.

My entire body stills for half a second before I yank the drawer open. My breath catches.

There it is.

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12:42 Fri, 4 Apr

Chapter 88

The flash drive sits in the corner, small and unassuming, but I swear it might as well be glowing. I grab it, shove it into my pocket, and pull out my laptop, my fingers working on autopilot as I jam the drive into the port.

The screen lights up. A single folder appears.

1 click. My name is the first file. Taryn Sinclair's Origin.

No. Not Sinclair. Not even Riverstone.

Shit, I'm not even who I thought I was.

"Taryn Lancaster." I let the name roll off my tongue. That sounds so... fucking royal. Holy shit.

My stomach twists. My fingers hover over the trackpad as I double-click the file.

A document unfolds, line by line, word by word.

Taryn Lancaster.

Daughter of Edward Lancaster, deceased.

Former Imperial Beta of the Lycan Kingdom.

No way...

breath stutters. I

That... that

Beta-No, THE Imperial Beta because there could only be one, wasn't just some pack official. He was second only to the Alpha

And he... my father?

clutch the laptop as though it might fucking

into my

brother: Jesse

Mother: Mary Lancaster, deceased.

of death: Imperial Pack Internal

slithers

I don't breathe.

I don't blink.

I just read.

Blackwell, second in line on the

Alpha King, or

current Alpha King, Enoch's

same man Enoch killed

realization slams into me as

bloodline-was wiped out in

Enoch. His uncle

4 Apr

Chapter 88

He took Enoch's parents.

And I never knew.

knock

check," a voice calls. "Anyone

My stomach lurches.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

side of the desk. The flashlight sweeps over the glass wall, casting a faint glow through the frosted surface. My

me.

pauses. A slow, heavy silence

Then-click.

locks from

eyes shut. Fucking

I'm locked in.

that matters. Not yet. Not when the truth is still staring at

itself into my brain.

force myself to breathe, my hands curling into

The war that tore his

too.

this is all

laptop when his steps began to retreat away

I can't breathe.

my brother's voice-Jesse's echoes in my skull, scraping against the inside of my

Pack did this. They killed him. They killed

on me, dragging me under. I

with both hands, trying to smother the scream clawing up

him. Brooke's father. The Prince Royal. That bastard. That power-hungry, cowardly son

for my father's death. He tried to kill Enoch, too. If he had succeeded, if Enoch had actually

violently repulsive that my body

Enoch killed him. It's

the hell does it still feel as if I'm

wrenches out of me before I can stop it, and then another, and another, until I'm breaking. Crying like I'm bleeding from the inside out, my shoulders shaking so

Chapter 88

like this-collapsed, hands tangled in

fucking child. It

hours.

when the tears

hollowed

My parents are dead.

Jesse is

now I know why. This is what

To know the truth.

the Imperial family. To the wrong fucking

died, and for what? For a bloodline that turned against itself? For a kingdom

the bile rising in my throat. There's nothing I can do. There's no one left

I should be relieved, although if I

I would have

to Brooke, his head hanged on

be as brutal as

feel relieved. I feel like I'm standing in the aftermath of a war I never even got to

And I lost everything.

shuddering when I force myself

swipe at my laptop's trackpad, pulling up

yet.

with the Alpha

My breath catches.