Babysitting The Amnesiac Lycan King

Chapter 90

Chapter 90

The palace gates slam shut behind me.

0

Not metaphorically. Not in a poetic, symbolic way. No, they literally fucking slam. Cold iron. Loud clang. And me, standing outside as some kicked-out groupie who dared to dream too high.

Fuck.

My ears are ringing too loud from how hard I was sobbing just seconds ago. My knees are shaking, gravel biting into my skin. as I finally stand. I don't even brush myself off. What's the fucking point?

Sobbing on the palace steps though a goddamn idiot while two oversized wolves watched with blank expressions. One of them finally tells me, "Your things will be sent to your company. You should leave before you draw more attention."

Right. Because getting thrown out as a piece of trash wasn't humiliating enough-I should also worry about how I look.

I wipe my nose on the back of my hand. I taste blood in my mouth-I must've bitten my lip when I hit the ground. My throat's raw, as if I swallowed glass, and there's still that lump in there that won't go away no matter how many times I swallow.

I push myself up. My palms are dirty. Dress wrinkled. I'm trembling, but I smile like I'm not dying inside. Because that's what we do, right? We perform. We survive. We fake it.

Inside my head, something shifts.

I hear her.

Eris.

My wolf, the only one who's ever stood by me, the one who let me cling to her when I had no one else. She's quiet for a beat, and I stupidly think maybe she's gonna comfort me or say something vaguely helpful.

She doesn't.

"I can't believe you did that to him."

Her voice is laced with disappointment so sharp I flinch.

"Eris-"

"He was right,” she says bitterly. "Mates don't do that shit to each other."

And just like that, she's gone. Her presence flickers and disappears as someone

shut off a switch. Nothing. Not even static. She's blocked me out.

I'm alone.

Again.

More alone than I've ever been.

I swallow the lump in my throat so hard it burns.

I take a taxi back. Not even sure how I remembered to call one or where I found

the goddamn strength to climb in. I must look like shit because the driver doesn't talk. Good. I'm not in the mood to pretend I'm holding it together.

"WolfNet Media HQ," I whisper.

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God, I should run. Hide. Dig a hole and rot in it. But I don't. Because I'm a journalist. And journalists show up-even when their world is burning.

The moment the automatic doors to the company building slide open, I get hit with-

Confetti.

Fucking confetti.

“YOU GUYS! SHE'S HERE!” someone yells from the other side of the lobby. I blink, confused, as a bunch of my coworkers flood toward me as though I'm some war hero returning from battle.

There's champagne being poured, cupcakes on desks, and a big-ass sign that says CONGRATS ON GOING VIRAL, QUEEN!

My blood runs cold.

No. No fucking way.

Liam appears in the middle of it all, his tie loose around his neck, blazer half-on like he got dragged into the celebration five minutes before I arrived. He spots me

and smiles, the first genuine grin I've ever seen on that man's face.

"Well, well," he says, raising a glass in my direction. "The star of the show arrives."

I don't move.

I can't.

Liam's voice cuts through the chaos. "The genius behind the most talked-about exposé of the year." His smile is smug, arms wide like he's about to hand me an Oscar. "Taryn fucking Sinclair. Holy shit, you've made us a fortune."

I'm frozen there on the welcome mat while coworkers I barely know start crowding around, clapping me on the back, handing me drinks, spewing praise as though I didn't just burn down my whole life.

I barely catch the glass of champagne someone pushes into my hand. I don't drink it.

My fingers are numb.

"That article," one guy gushes-Josh, I think? From finance? "It's fucking everywhere! Front page on three national werewolf outlets. Hell, even some

are reading it. We've got interviews lined up, brand deals sniffing around, ad revenue tripled overnight.

I can't breathe.

The Lycan King's camera trauma? His media blackout? The meltdown at the Maldives hotel? All of it. You gave the world the story it didn't know

mouth is dry.

I nod.

am I supposed

actually, the King you're all dragging is the man I love, and I didn't

version of the article, and I would give anything-anything-to take it

Yeah. Didn't think so.

glance across the room and spot

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Chapter 90

pressed into a thin, disapproving line. Her eyes seet mine, and at feels as though someone just shoved me down a

sanile. She doesn't

her

it guts t

Because she knows

jaw and trand to build me a damn blanket fort. She saw how he looked

now she thinks 1

Maybe I did

with the article on the screen.

the Crown: The Lycan King's Media Terror

By Taryn Sinclair.

is burned into the front like a fucking

should've deleted this

should've never written it in the first

all to shove their viral metrics and champagne up

asks, awe in her voice. "It's like you knew him

I don't answer.

I can't

camera flashes because they reminded him of the explosion that wiped out his family. I knew he couldn't sleep unless he

And I used it.

if the version I sent was different-they

words to destroy him.

stare down at the tablet. The words blur.

to throw

the champagne down,

air. I

Fuck.

need

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city can be until I'm

apartment.

it yet. I'm just standing in front of the damn door like

Liam

My sad, thrown-out-of-the- palace belongings. The final nail in the "Taryn, go fuck yourself" coffin. "Here," Liam says, not even winded, as he drops the last duffel bag on the welcome mat of my tiny apartment unit. His sleeves are rolled up, his hair

trauma.

good?" he asks, watching me like I might disintegrate right there

through my

you're about to crawl into that

Not the worst idea

inside

daddy."

my palm, and I

Same creaky floorboard by the kitchen counter. My welcome mat still

time I was here, I was still stupid. Still hopeful. Still wanting

with his stupid bed hair and his warm

was the

everything except how to

inside, ignoring how my throat

at the top-black, oversized, the one he

like a goddamn blanket

God, I'm pathetic.

blink up fast,

the day smiling at me

was quiet the whole damn day. Probably scared I'd snap if she said the wrong

to talk either. Just sat there like a

Liam offered me the promotion of a lifetime like it was

about it,” Liam had said, voice too

more

he mutters now, stepping in behind

your bill while you were off

busy being emotionally manipulated and

with one hand while the other rubs at

I once thought was an absolute dick when

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Chapter 90

my bags and staying late and not saying I told

why I'm

doesn't do nice. He does sarcasm

of him- quiet,

off.

and stumble to the fridge, opening it just

Empty. Of course. Just

"Wine?" Liam asks.

I need

the bottle. "Too bad.