Chapter 95

Chapter 95

There's a second bouquet waiting for me this morning.

11

Dead. Again. Like someone plucked the petals straight out of a graveyard and thought, You know what? This'll brighten her day.

I squint at the shriveled mess dumped right outside my door. The flowers are even worse than the last ones-crunchy, blackened, curling like they're trying to retreat into themselves. There's a note tucked inside this time.

"Matches your loyalty."

My laugh comes out flat. No humor. No real breath. Just air scraping past my teeth like it wants to be something louder,

messier.

I bend down, pick it up, and stare at the rotting stems for a few seconds longer than I should. I pocket the note before I can think too hard about how it actually fucking hurts.

Because it does.

Which pisses me off more than the bouquet.

Phone's already in my hand before I'm back inside. I call Zoe.

She answers after one ring. "You still alive, corpse bride?"

"I think Enoch's trying to hex me. Second bouquet. This one's got a fucking note."

"Jesus Christ," she wheezes through the speaker. "Does it at least smell nice?"

"It smells like pissed ex-boyfriend who can't say what he actually means."

"Ugh. I swear, that man needs therapy. Like, several sessions a day. Electroshock, if possible."

I flop onto the edge of my bed, flinging the curtains shut because I feel like I'm

being watched. Probably am.

“Tell me something distracting,” I say, rubbing my temples.

"Oh, you're gonna love this. I overheard two guards talking about some underground werewolf fight club-"

"...What?"

"Alpha Combat Training," she says, full gossip-mode. "Top-secret, no staff allowed, not even the guards can get close unless they're part of it. Guess who's gonna be there?"

My heart slams once. Then twice.

I don't answer.

"Your growly murder crush," Zoe adds like she's narrating a daytime soap. "Apparently, no one at the palace can keep up with him, so they've started flying in actual Alphas just to keep him from breaking all the training bots. Sounds like the world's horniest deathmatch."

"You think they're really fighting?"

"You think they're braiding friendship bracelets in there?"

I'm already up, grabbing a jacket, not bothering with makeup or an actual plan.

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Chapter 95

Zoe's voice trails behind me. "You're insane. Fully unwell, I love it. Please don't die."

The combat field is deep within the royal perimeter. Forest on all sides. Mist lingers low, thick enough to blur outlines but not thick enough to hide the heat.

It smells like blood and dirt and sweat.

Also power.

The kind that buzzes along the back of your neck and makes your lungs feel too small. Every inch of my skin is prickling by the time I crawl under the old warding fence behind the clearing. I duck low, keeping to the trees. My breath fogs the air in front of me.

Then I see it.

Chaos.

Dozens of wolves-some mid-shift, some shifting back-are beating the shit out of each other. Limbs snap. Regrow. Snarls rip through the clearing, teeth flashing in the sun as jaws clamp down on flesh. It's... beautiful in the most unhinged, primal way. Like watching war ballet.

And in the middle of it all?

Him.

Enoch.

Blood on his chest. Hands. His throat. Some of it his, most of it not. His hair's slicked back with sweat, his chest heaving as he throws some massive Alpha clean across the field like he weighs nothing.

He's not even trying.

I know his face well enough by now. This isn't him fighting hard.

This is him... burning time..

Holy fuck.

I blink-and get yanked backwards by the collar of my jacket.

spin, ready to elbow whoever's behind me, but freeze

The Dowager Queen.

she caught me sneaking cookies, not breaking palace

your grandfather was during his courting years," she

shadows and right into

urge to sink

think she should observe how kings are made,

One foot pressing into some guy's

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Chapter 95

his eyes lock onto

forget how

100%

(+83)

shifted. Not all the way. His claws are still halfway there, teeth sharp, skin

He doesn't flinch.

growls, loud enough for the trees to shake,

fucking training ground freezes. Half of them turn to look. The other half pretend

out a faint, wheezy cough that probably saves my life,

Stark naked.

Fuming.

heartbreakingly beautiful it makes my chest

angry, he

I swallow.

then I clap. Once.

out of ten," I say, voice flat, fingers still slapping together. "Would

again."

He doesn't smile.

something flickers across his face.

I know this isn't

Not even close.

***

even know what to say. The door slams behind him, the sound

gunshot down

just stand

slung off one

ankles.

to be fucking

like maybe the universe will take it back

But no.

mine. Massive double

me. Like

about to

The Lycan King's room.

His. Enoch's.

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Chapter 95

this maze of a palace,

trying to forget. Or stab. Or kiss. Probably all three,

I should demand a room

+83)

and dry and bitter. I clutch the doorknob of my room, press my forehead against the cool wood, and laugh

amazing. Top-tier hospitality, ten out of ten,

I turn it.

big. Overkill, honestly. Bigger than my entire

to spiral, and a bed that looks like it

bag with a thud. Walk straight to the window. Press my forehead

the glass.

below is quiet. Too quiet. The kind

being watched even when

I am

turn around,

doorway to

Enoch.

like gravity has a personal vendetta. His hair is still wet from the

Just staring like he's trying to figure out whether I'm

crossing my arms and hating how

tilts his head slightly. His eyes drag over

or maybe my last shred

"You're loud."

jaw drops.

were laughing. It echoed.

just my will to live," I shoot

his face. Not a smile, exactly, but close.

one.

a single step into the

my room without thinking.

Fight or

you doing?" I ask, because I can't

"I live here."

"Not what I meant."

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My blood is

the the

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