Chapter 96

Chapter 96

The silence is the first thing that pisses me off.

No scratchy paper petals crumbling under my shoes. No sickly-sweet rot clinging to the base of my door. No reminder that someone out there has a death wish and thinks I'm dumb enough to play scared little Omega about it.

Huh.

I stare at the floor outside my quarters. Just polished marble. No bouquet of shriveled-up flowers this time.

Guess whoever's been leaving them finally got bored. Or they're cooking up something worse. Because that's what silence is here-it's not peace. It's the inhale before the scream.

I rub my eyes and glance across the hallway. His doors are still closed, like the pompous Alpha King is too fucking royal to wake up before noon. Must be nice. I mutter, "Still sleeping off that bitchy little tantrum, huh?"

No response. Of course.

I drag myself into the bathroom, splash water on my face, stare into the mirror like I'm waiting for her-the version of me that's supposed to be over this. Over him. Over the way his voice still cracks like thunder in my bones.

Yeah, she's not showing up today either.

Whatever. I've got shit to do and coffee to drink.

The dining hall is halfway across the palace, but I've walked longer stretches with

a twisted ankle and a leaking heart, so I put one foot in front of the other and try not to think about anything except how empty my stomach feels.

I'm almost at the hall when I hear them.

Maids. Whispering. Like they always do. But this time...

"Poor Lady Camille, I remember her." one says, voice low but clear enough to knife through the air. "I really thought she'd be Queen by now."

My body freezes mid-step.

Another maid scoffs, her tone heavy with regret. "They found her body in the-"

Footsteps. Heavy ones. Clean. Confident.

They all shut the fuck up at once.

I already know who it is.

Enoch enters from the far end of the dining hall, and it's like every breath in the room gets sucked out of the ceiling.

The maids practically break their spines bowing, and one of them drops a tray. Clatter. Awkward laughter. Silence again.

I step forward like nothing's wrong, even though my brain's glitching. Camille. Her name's not a ghost anymore. It's a

corpse.

And apparently... she's a real one.

Enoch doesn't look at me when I sit. He just stabs his eggs like they insulted his bloodline and chews like he's punishing

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Chapter 96

them for it.

Typical.

+50

I pick at my toast, but it's like chewing ash. My mouth's dry. My fingers won't stop twitching. And the words are clawing their way up my throat before I can even stop them.

"What happened to Camille?"

I say it quietly. Too quietly.

His fork halts mid-air. His jaw ticks once.

"Eat your food."

The way he says it-it's not a suggestion. It's an order.

I don't move. "Last time I saw her was before the Maldives. I just thought... she was still... around."

He slams his fork and knife down so hard the porcelain cracks.

"She's dead."

His voice is flat. Like he's reading it off a fucking script. Like it doesn't matter. "Her body was found in this palace after we got back from that fucking island." Everything inside me goes cold.

I don't even blink.

if I blink, I'll fall apart. And I don't fall apart for men who lie to me, fuck with me, and then act like I'm the problem. for not being

stands. The chair drags back with a sound that makes my ears want

at me like I'm the thing that ruined

And maybe I did.

not wasted my time there-with you-while you wrote about my life like I was

Then he's gone.

Just like that.

out and leaves me at the table with nothing but cold toast, broken silence, and the worst fucking ache

full minute. Maybe two. Staring. Breathing. Not breathing. Thinking of her. Camille. The maybe- fiancée I never

and head to the Dowager's wing before

bed, eyes closed, skin pale against the cream-colored sheets. The room smells like lavender oil and lemon balm. I grab a bowl of cold water, dip the cloth, start wiping her

week. "She just likes pretending

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450

leverage."

I believe it.

ass," I mutter as I wring the

Dowager cracks one eye open. "My grandson thinks

breath escapes me-part laugh, part

girl. That's rare in this

"No shit."

like she knows it's the only thing holding me together right now. Then the air shifts. I

turn, cloth still dripping in

doorway. Silent. Arms

No cruel smirk. Just

he doesn't even believe

pats the bed

"You. Come here."

Doesn't hesitate. Doesn't challenge

hand and stares up at him. Her voice

an idiot. Don't

smacks the back of

he's five years old and just got scolded in

fucking court.

snort. "Guess she's

eyes snap to

Enoch glare. It's meant to be scary. It's

work this

the bowl, and sit

he left behind

I sure as hell won't be the one he

lips as I hover in the hallway, debating whether I should wait or just disappear into the nearest broom closet and

"LET ME CRASH THERE

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Chapter 96

told me not to worry about

groan, slapping, my head against the

it's not a sleepover. It's a palace. With guards. And paychotic

Lycans.

than attending his

each him screwing her in my

night. No drama. No chaos. No lingerie, 1 mean

"No promises. Be there in an

chance to argue before

emotionally stunted Alpha, Might

goblin to

into my back pocket and turn-straight into a wall of muscle wrapped in a suit. "Ow, what

hallway. He doesn't

wearing a bell?" I mutter, stepping back and rubbing my nose. His

with me,"

"Where?"

can't make it. You're going in

at him. “I'm

a journalist, right? Take notes.

do it. Like, say, Brooke. I'm sure she'd love to be seen as the King's representative." Jacob smirks, deadpan. "Exactly. You're the only woman in this

jaw drops. "Wow, Compliment of the year. Put that shit on

Majesty's journalist. You've

shoved into the back of a sleek

mess, my boots don't match, and I'm 90% sure there's toothpaste on my

beside me without a

like secrets, jaw tight

glass.

at

wall of broody rage beside me. "Why aren't

Wouldn't that be faster?"

driver answers instead. "It's in the city,

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