Babysitting The Amnesiac Lycan King

Chapter 108

I feel his hands before I hear his voice.

One's splayed across my thigh, the other anchoring me against his chest as though I might float away if he lets go. His grip tightens when one of the older councilmen starts talking logistics about border surveillance on the northeastern ridge.

I don't even know what that means. I'm too busy trying not to pass the fuck out.

This damn drug.

It's still in my system, softening my brain like a cotton-stuffed pillow. My eyelids droop even as the meeting continues around us. I should move. I should get up. But Enoch's warm, steady heartbeat against my back makes me feel like I could fall asleep right here and not give a shit.

Why did I come here again?

'You're an embarrassment, Taryn.' I hear Eris murmur inside of my head. I groan in frustration. 'It's your mate who drugged me!' I argue at her and she puts up a wall so I couldn't talk right back.

I look up at Enoch. Underneath him is the perfect place to look at that paper- cutting jaw moving as he's saying something yet I can't seem to read his lips.

He hasn't said anything to me directly since I walked in and straddled his lap like some drunk bar wench claiming her man at a tavern. Not that I care. He's the one who growled like an animal and declared to a room full of old bastards that I'm to

be respected. So I guess it's justified.

Still, I don't move. Neither does he.

Before I knew it, my hands moved on their own, raising to his bobbing Adam's apple. I can't move on from the fact that this man... is definitely a god. An arrogant, annoying god. But most definitely a god. I trace his Adams apple down with my index finger, and the next thing I knew, his body vibrates with a growl. "And that should strengthen the ... Your Majesty?" The man stopped talking as Enoch released a hearty warning. He looks down at me with a playful smirk edging on his lips his eyes raised in a smile. I immediately scrunch my face in annoyance. What is he so happy about? I wouldn't be in his arms had he not anesthetized me, that's for sure.

"Are you flirting with me, sweetheart?" He asks, causing his chest vibrates from his low voice and my wolf purrs in my head.

Slut.

I glare at him and with a slurry voice before I slowly raise my middle finger at him without a care to the men in the room. Jeez, it's definitely the drug. I'm not usually like this.

"Get fucked, Blackwell." I murmur and contrary to what I was expecting for a reaction, his smile widened even more,. making my blood boil.

I could almost smell the satisfaction leaking like pheromones from him just from what I said. Those orbs are shifting from their forest hue to his wolf's crimson, telling me how he's having a hard time grasping for control right now.

He leans in close to my ears, his warm breath tickling my skin as he whispers, "Say that again and I'll bend you on this fucking table and show these men exactly how I take what's mine."

My eyes widen and slowly, begrudgingly I put my hand down. The temperature on my face rose to a boiling degree as I purse my lips shut. I certainly do not want such a sight.

"That's my girl." He smile in satisfaction, planting a kiss on my forehead. I close my eyes to savor it. It's definitely the drug and not me. Certainly not me.

Everyone murmurs about the language I had spoken in front of His Majesty not being lady-like, my presence overall is

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Chapter 108

unlady-like.

What's the point of being a lady if they have an asshole for a King?

"Next phase of the eastern reconstruction begins in five days," someone says. "They are short on builders and guards."

Enoch's voice rips through the air-deep, rough, commanding. "Shift the Silvermane warriors to oversee it. Bring in trade laborers from the outpost. Pay double if you have to. I want it done before the moon turns."

Jesus Christ. The way he says it. It's like everyone in this room was born just to follow his orders.

Someone on the table from a few feet away from Enoch and I coughs nervously. "And the Omega... Miss Sinclair... Will she be attending the upcoming Imperial..."

The room shakes with a violent roar, and the temperature drops down when Enoch finds the man across the table. I stare up at him as he spoke, "Speak her name again like she's an afterthought and I'll decorate this floor with your jawbone."

Silence.

My mouth twitches. Okay, psycho.

shuffle. Bows are exchanged. I think someone even mutters "long live the King."

I even register the movement.

"No."

Of course.

carries me through the doors like a damn bride, and I hear them-the voices. The ones they don't think I can hear.

absolutely stupid considering their

must have a

making

enough, "I wouldn't be surprised if Enoch killed Lady Celeste himself just to

My breath sticks.

his muscles

I can open my mouth to tell them to fuck

Enoch stops walking.

turns to

low. Not yelling. Worse. It's

"You better pray she stays asleep.

mouth about

head just barely,

won't be the only things I

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on like nothing happened. As though he didn't just threaten castration in the palace hallway. I have a feeling it's not anything new though. I wouldn't be shocked if the maids here are all used to cleaning blood from every nook and cranny

that thought, I slowly... drift under in Enoch's

old, barefoot, knees scraped,

I'm sitting on sways a little as I lean back, craning to look down

itching on the tree trunk

giggle, swaying my legs. "You're too big to climb

growls, low and

and catch you." he

"You wouldn't dare."

forest, the scent of honeysuckle and sweetgrass hanging in the air. In the distance, I hear voices.

mom and dad with the King

do

thoughts gets cut off when a voice mutters again, "My birthday's next week," he says, still

grin down at him. "Then I'll

mostly wolf, but his eyes burn red back

Possessive

me," he

with a sharp inhale,

blurry. "I forgot," I whisper. "I forgot about you..."

hands are shaking.

was

early-morning golden light cutting through the curtains. I sit

work to

days, and apparently, it's

Perfect.

my cheeks, and stalk down the

chaotic mess-maids rushing back and forth, florists arguing over centerpieces, guards hauling crates of imported wine as if

likes deep reds,"

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Chapter 108

the King

Of course he does.

the corner and shove open his office

And stop.

Holy. Shit.

He's wearing glasses.

He's hunched o paperwork, sleeves rolled up, veins popping on his forearms like sin incarnate. His dirt's unknetoned &