Babysitting The Amnesiac Lycan King

Chapter 94

Chapter 94

I don't blink.

Can't.

His eyes are locked on me like I've crawled straight out of hell and dragged the devil's pitchfork with me.

And maybe I have.

Because standing here, in the Grand Dowager's room, her porcelain teacup halfway to her lips, while Enoch Blackwell- King of the fucking Lycans-glares at me like I just pissed in his holy water.

Yeah. This might actually be hell.

"Come in," she repeats, deceptively warm.

I step in. One foot, then the other. My heels click warning shots on the polished marble, all of last night still stitched into the seams of my blazer. The one I ironed this morning. As though I didn't sob for twenty straight minutes before pulling on my pantyhose:

But appearances, right?

I keep my chin up. It's not much, but it's all I've got.

"Grandmother," Enoch says, low and flat. That voice. It doesn't rumble anymore. It cuts. Cold and sharp, like winter air sliding down the back of your neck.

"Taryn," the Dowager croons, still smiling. "I'm so pleased you accepted my offer. The palace could use some fresh air, wouldn't you say?"

I don't miss the way her eyes flick toward Enoch. She's goading him. And I'm the bait she wrapped in satin and ribbon.

"Thrilled to be here," I say sweetly, glancing at the King as though he didn't throw me out just days ago. "Can't wait to get started."

Enoch's jaw ticks.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

His voice is pure gravel.

Okay, this is it.

I turn to him slowly, savoring the venom. "Aw. Miss me already?"

He takes one step forward. Big. Broad. Stupidly regal. Like the hallway bent itself to his will the moment he walked in.

"Did you break in again," he grits out, "or did someone finally lose their mind and let you through the front door?"

I raise my brows, smiling like a cat with a dead mouse in its mouth. "Neither. Turns out saving your grandmother's life buys you a seat at the palace table. Who knew?"

He opens his mouth, and the Dowager cuts him off with a clap of her hands.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Enoch. She's not here as a guest. I've decided she'll be my personal aide."

I blink.

Wait-what the fuck?

"I'm sorry-what?" Enoch and I say at the same time.

She just sips her tea like this is her goddamn telenovela and we're her favorite characters.

"She'll assist me with my correspondence, join me in meetings, and accompany me to my treatments. After what she did for me, I want her close."

Close.

Great.

I feel Enoch's stare boiling through my skin.

"She's a liar," he snaps, turning fully to face her. His voice is low but lethal. "She's

not here for you. She's here for information. For a story."

My throat burns, but I smile wider.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Do you own your grandmother now too? Or are you just mad I'm still breathing the same air as your royal ego?"

His nostrils flare.

"Taryn," the Dowager says, dabbing her lips with a napkin, "would you be a dear and take a short tour of the new wing? Your quarters have been prepared. Enoch will show you the way."

"What?" he growls.

My jaw drops. "Wait, hold up-what?"

She waves a dismissive hand. "You know it better than anyone, darling. And you could both use the time. I'm sure you've missed each other terribly."

I make a choking sound. Enoch just looks as though he's seconds from calling in a hit.

Still, when she stands and begins chatting with her head maid, I know better than to argue.

She's the Dowager. This is her game. And I just became her new pawn.

to execution. I follow,

corridor stare as if I'm carrying

Maybe I am.

anything until we're a good fifty paces from the room. I count every step just to stop myself

corner.

guard, Your Majesty," I say lightly. "But I get it. You've missed

doesn't look at me. Doesn't

going. "This place is bigger than your ego, which is honestly impressive. I didn't think that

Still nothing.

spy through your keyhole or anything. I'm more of

I almost

his face is

he asks, voice low and dangerous. "You think

in here like

the

I whisper. "But I'm not walking

eyes narrow. And for a second, I thought he might say something.

real. Something that burns.

then he turns and opens the door

it," he

I step inside.

the second I do, I realize something

across from

it fucking

to go back after Enoch's

plush couch before Brooke decides it's her fucking cue

goblin queen on her throne-of-a- chair, sipping tea while chatting up her

And in walks Brooke.

a smirk and

marble.

says, her voice like someone trying to sound sweet but choking on bile. "You're still here? How resilient of

it's the kind you give someone right before

make

eyes narrow just slightly. But she recovers fast-too fast-and strolls in as though she's

I sure hope not.

straight for him. Claiming him.

He's mine, you bitch.

fists clench, nails biting into

move. I don't flinch. I just watch her

wineglass.

really a wise appointment, Your Grace?" Brooke says, tilting her head toward the Dowager. Her hand stays on Enoch like it's glued.

brow, a glass of wine halfway to

Mic. Fucking. Drop.

but she's too polished

composure.

is stone, but his jaw ticks once, and I catch the subtle shift of

Good. Let him

long. Lingers as a fart in a sealed car

with some made-up excuse about wardrobe arrangements and

My ass.

she throws one last glance at me before walking out-like

planted a bomb and

corridor, muttering under my breath, when

my wrist and yanks me into a side

lights are dim. The air's thick. My back hits the wall, and he's there.

Way too close.

gets stuck halfway in my throat. His scent slams into me like a drug I swore I'd quit. Fuck. I

His eyes are black.

dark-black. His wolf is

my palace," he growls.

My fingers

touching me, but close enough that

a warning. "But I see

I'll treat you like

eye. My chin lifts, my voice sharp.

too fucking stubborn

his eyes. Pain. Guilt. Rage. I don't

backs up as if

Good.

***

Dinner is war.

yelling and throwing

Worse.

kind of war where the cutlery's too

screams louder than bombs.

looks like he's one snarky comment

a rage

sitting beside

the time of

she says, motioning between

and Ken. "Childhood sweethearts reunited by