Babysitting The Amnesiac Lycan King

Chapter 92

The second I hear her voice-soft, velvety, and full of fucking pity-I'm gone.

I don't wait for confirmation. I don't need to see more than the back of Brooke's head practically glued to his chest.

That bitch could've been breathing his air and I still would've turned around.

I don't wait. I don't need to. My body does the thinking for me.,

+68)

I take a step back and shit-my heel knocks into a vase, the goddamn thing wobbles, and I watch it in slow motion like that will stop it from crashing.

It doesn't.

Clatter. Shatter. Echo.

Fuck.

I bolt.

God. My lungs burn.

My chest-fuck, my chest aches like someone cracked me open and dumped acid inside.

My eyes are leaking even before I've stopped moving, hot and heavy tears blurring my vision as the corridor splits into two and I pick one on instinct. Or maybe on pure delusional hope that I can outrun this.

My legs don't ask for directions. They just run. Left, then right, then through a hallway I swear I've never seen before.

My boots slap against marble. I catch glimpses of stunned maids, confused guards. Someone shouts my name, maybe, but it's muffled behind the roaring in my head.

I don't know where I'm going. Don't care.

All I know is I need to get out.

Away from him. Away from the sound of her whispering things I was supposed to hear.

"She made her choice."

No, fuck you. I might have write the article, but I didn't write it and whoever published it better count her last days.

But Enoch... you lied, you let me fall, you fucking left me for... for her? And now you're back with... that?

My vision's tunneling, and everything stings. My throat's tight. My chest's worse. Like something's inside, thrashing against my ribs, trying to claw its way out.

I don't stop until I do.

My foot slips on one of the polished steps. I grab the railing, barely catching myself. My breath's coming in short gasps now, stupid, humiliating hiccups choking the sobs that won't stop clawing up my throat.

Goddess... tears begin to blur my vision again.

Shit. I can't do this.

I can't-

1/7

Chapter 92

<392%

My shoulder hits a door,

I don't even check if it's locked-1 shove it open and stumble inside, slamming it shut behind me with a final, satisfying thud.

Silence.

My hand's shaking as I turn the old-fashioned lock. I don't even know where the hell I am, but it's quiet. Dim.

I wipe at my face, but it does nothing. My cheeks are wet again ten seconds later. My breathing sounds too loud in here. Like the walls are listening.

Great. Now I'm going insane.

I look up.

Dusty, but not forgotten. There's a thick maroon carpet under my feet and the air smells faintly of roses and linen, like someone's actually been taking care of this place.

It's not abandoned. It just feels like it's been... waiting.

I wipe my face with the back of my sleeve, blinking through the wetness. My chest still feels like a collapsing lung, but at least I can breathe in here.

Sort of.

There's a bed at the end of the room. A real one. With a carved wooden frame, lace canopy, and a bunch of decorative pillows. The kind of bed that makes you feel like you're intruding just by looking at it.

And then-

Holy shit.

There's someone on it.

My hand shoots to my mouth as I take a cautious step back, immediately regretting busting into random-ass rooms in a palace full of secrets. But the figure isn't moving aggressively. She's just lying there, her back propped up against the pillows like she belongs here.

An old woman.

Like... really old.

White hair pulled back into a braid. Wrinkled hands folded over a pale-blue knit blanket. Her eyes are open, but not alarmed.

She looks at me like I'm a squirrel that wandered into the wrong tree.

"Why are you crying, sweetheart?"

Her voice is smooth. Raspy, worn down by decades, but not unkind.

I freeze. My lips press together like maybe if I stay silent long enough, she'll just... disappear.

But she doesn't.

"Come here," she says. "Come sit. There's no shame in a girl's heartbreak."

I almost laugh. Or sob. I'm not sure which one's clawing its way out first.

2/7

92%

Chapter 92

fuck it—at this point, what else

hurt?"

because what the fuck else am

here on a

mission?

(+68

crawling out before I even know they're coming. "No. I'm just...

to my face. There's no hiding how much of a

1. it.

fine," she says gently, like it's

side of her bed like it's

And you know what?

Fuck it.

bottom in the royal palace. Might as well

that she can hear me

dips slightly as it down. I don't get to clos anything

eyes on the floor. "Like you knew they

old

new job, new apartment, even fucking flirted with someone else. I told myself he didn't want me. That

here you are," she says

am," I mutter, laughing bitterly. "Stupid, huh? I had one glimpse of him and it's like my heart forgot the last few months even

cracking. "He disappeared like he

And sure I did something bad but-but... she

poor thing." She just lets me sit there and let the pain leak out of me one shattered piece at

doing the right thing. But I think I just made it

her hand, paper-thin and warm, lands gently over mine. I flinch but she

a stranger.

belonged to me," she says, her voice low. "He carried the weight of a kingdom on his back." she murmured, eyes on the window yet her hand is on mine. She's reminiscing. "While I... I

She's really not looking at me. Her eyes

3/7

0

92%

455

Chapter 92

maybe that's what we both need right now. To

a son. He inherited that same burden. Responsibility is a curse, my dear. Especially when love is in

I go quiet.

husband needed to carry for him to

her here?

again, softer now. "Sometimes love doesn't die. It gets

so deep, you

Something inside me clenches.

hurt like that. Maybe because they sound too

afraid of. What

I ask,

looks at me, and her

never left," she says. "But he was

I swallow. Hard.

there. Two women in a room that doesn't

a silence that

Maybe love isn't enough.

the

long. I

She should be my therapist for goodness'

She's really warm.

like lavender, mothballs, and expensive soap.

open down

with duct tape

did was wrong," I whisper, voice so thin I almost miss

didn't publish it, and he still threw me

the back of my head, slow, gentle, though

she's just used

I choke. "I fucking hate him, and I miss him. What kind of dumb bitch logic is

her

is steady, grounding, a goddamn

to do with a stranger

don't know.

says

kind

is peaceful, but not comforting. My thoughts are

ends. Brooke. Enoch's face.

4/7

Chapter 92

breath stutters.

Once,

Twice.

And stops.

My whole body jerks.

say, sitting up, heart flipping so violently it

"Hey-hey, are you okay?"

slack. Her

something tight and sharp.

Oh fuck.

Oh freaking fuck.

She clutches her chest.

11

echo of Dr. Lisa's voice

She taught me this,

this.

on her shoulders, easing her

Shit-Granny, can you hear

gasps, nods weakly, then winces. Sweat dots her upper lip. Her skin's

Lisa's clinic. Heart attack. "Fuck, okay. Okay.

rug, heart hammering in

-thready. Breathing-shallow. "You're gonna

little decorative pillow and shove it under her knees. My hands are shaking

someone," I mutter, snatching my phone out

pocket.

hand clamps around my

barely more

stare at her, mouth open. "Granny, no