Chapter 89

Chapter 89

I wake up on the goddamn floor

Shit, I fell asleep in here? Did someone find out I broke in?

Not my bed. Not my couch. Not even a fucking chair. No, my ass is spread-eagle

on the cold-ass, dusty floor of Liam's office, check stuck to a file folder, spine screaming in protest, and there's a pair of black dress shoes in my face.

Then there's a voice.

"Holy shit, Sinclair. You actually did it."

The words are muffled through my groggy haze, but I recognize that smug, too- pleased tone anywhere. Liam Calloway. My boss. My personal tyrant. The man I thought would fire me any day now for breathing wrong.

I blink, and he's crouching next to me, that rare smile of his stretching ear to ear like it's physically painful. Behind him, F see blurry shapes-people crowding into the room, some I recognize from the office, some I don't. All of them are fucking beaming at me like I just discovered the goddamn cure to death.

What the hell is going on?

"Get up, superstar," Liam says, grabbing my arm and hauling me upright before I can even say anything. "You're trending. Like, everywhere. The company's crashing from traffic. You blew the lid off the whole fucking thing."

"What-?"

But I can't even finish the question before someone pats me on the back. Then another. Then I'm getting a weird little applause circle. Laughter. Shouts. Somebody yells, "That's our girl!" and I blink again, heart rate still catching up to reality.

And then I see her.

Zoe.

She's not clapping. She's not laughing. She's just standing near the doorway, arms folded across her chest, her face unreadable except for one thing: disappointment.

A pit opens in my stomach.

"Wait, what did I-" I start, still half-asleep, panic starting to crawl in. "What happened? What blew up?"

Liam's already gone, barking something to an assistant. Everyone's celebrating like we just won the goddamn World Cup. I barely register any of it because-

Fuck.

Last night.

The file.

The truth.

My legs are moving before my brain catches up. I shove through the crowd of bodies like a lunatic, searching the desk, the floor, the scattered papers. Where the fuck is it? The file from last night-my mother's name, my father's face, the match...the match to Enoch's story.

I'm the girl.

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12:01 Sat, 5 Apr

Chapter 89

The one he's been looking for. The one he forgot. The one he loved.

1 grab the folder off the floor where I collapsed with it and clutch it to my chest like

it's the only thing anchoring me to the damn planet. My heart is jackhammering now, and it has nothing to do with whatever viral shitstorm I apparently started. Zoe steps forward.

"Tarya” she says, soft, but not friendly. "You didn't tell me you were gonna run that piece."

1-what piece?" 1 croak. "Zoe, 1-1 don't have time-"

"Yeah, you never do, right?" she bites back, stepping aside as I sprint out.

I don't have the mental capacity to deal with that right now.

I need to see him.

I have to see him.

+50

I'm already out the door, ignoring the shouted questions, the people trying to grab

my sleeve, my name echoing behind me. 1 don't answer. I don't stop.

I've got tunnel vision.

Because if what I read is true-if I'm her-then he has to know. Maybe it changes everything. Maybe he remembers. Maybe...

God, maybe he already knows.

My stomach turns.

The air is cold when I reach the Imperial Pack gates. My lungs burn as I double over, wheezing. Jason's standing there, like some kind of decorative, suit-wearing bouncer from hell. He doesn't look surprised to see me.

"You can't go in," he says.

"Bullshit," I growl, shoving past him. He doesn't budge.

"Taryn-"

“He's in there, right?" I shout, pointing toward the building like a maniac. "You just said he's here! Let me the fuck in, Jason!"

He moves to block me again, and I lose it. My hand connects with his arm, then

his chest, then I'm thrashing like a rabid animal. My voice cracks from screaming, my throat raw as I yell his name.

"ENOCH!"

arms. "You need to calm

"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!"

Like

recoils, and I sprint toward

the polished tile, not even giving a shit. My hands slam against

I throw it open.

Sat, 5 Apr

And there he is.

Enoch Blackwell.

The Lycan King.

My mate.

goddamn suit like a marble

facing the floor-to-ceiling window behind his desk, hands clasped behind him, the light pouring

I freeze.

Just for a second.

if

trembling with everything I'm trying to say all at once. I clutch the file against my chest, smiling

I whisper. "I finally... it's

He turns.

His eyes are empty.

worse. They're

He doesn't speak.

something to the

with a flutter and lands at my feet. A folded

then slowly crouch to pick it up.

unfold the front

My article.

In big, bold letters.

it... the

By Taryn Sinclair.

My chest squeezes.

My voice fails me as I look up at him. "You read

His eyes meet mine.

"You wrote it."

flat. It's

It's just...empty.

wish he would. I

and shattered glass

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12:51 Sat, 5 Apr

Chapter 89

things.

But not this.

he already decided I did

already made up his mind and now I'm just here

through his bloody wound.

I'm doing

+50

my throat burning. "No-yes-I mean, I wrote the original but this-this isn't what I submitted, hell I dind't even submit it... it's-someone changed it,

me jump. The entire mahogany slab trembles

tiny click that feels a fucking bomb going

this. I don't like us this

His voice rips through the

God, I caused

teeth.

"Let me explain-"

writing about me like I was some fucking freak in a zoo? While I- while I fucking worshipped the ground you walked on?" His eyes are bloodshot now as they stare

I've

seen him like

the Imperial border. Not

died.

This?

heartbreak breaking a man.

think I'd..." My voice cracks. I take a shaky step

Like I'm dirty. "You

low, "that I told you things

of me that don't even

fucking part of myself."

gestures to the paper in

gets to read it

like I'm

No. Worse.

being held underwater by his

didn't know they'd publish it under my name. Enoch, I'm trying to

I had

laugh. Cold. Ugly. His jaw clenches so tight I'm

snap. Please, please listen

sneers. "You're a journalist, Taryn. Isn't that

To know

He's right...

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50

Chapter 89

but nothing comes out. My body's too busy

made of fucking

you in confidence-" He throws his hands up, pacing now, jerky and fast like he can't stay still or else he'll combust. "I gave you my heart. In Maldives. Remember that? When I told you shit I've never said out loud to anyone? I gave it to

across the desk,

I thought he'd

Gone,

smashes to

crushed to a million miniscule, I could

my throat as

tear up.

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