Babysitting The Amnesiac Lycan King

CHAPTER 117

Silence.

Fucking silence.

The kind that doesn't ring in your ears, no-that'd be merciful. This is the kind that weighs, presses, crawls up your skin like mold and shame and exposure. The kind that tells you you've just made a god bleed in front of his kingdom.

And I didn't even touch him.

The projector flickers once and then it goes black. No final credits. No music. It's just that goddamn hum in the air and all those wolfish, hungry murmurs slithering up from the crowd.

"He's weak."

"She has control over him."

"Is this who we follow? Someone who dies with a woman?"

A tight breath lodges itself in my ribs and doesn't leave. I feel like I'm breathing

through a straw jammed down my throat. The murmurs grow teeth.

"He's a liability."

"The Lycan King is ruled by a woman's tears."

"Kill him now while he's soft."

I glance at Enoch before I try to step forward, maybe say something, scream, tackle the fucking screen, anything-

"That wasn't the video I-"

He doesn't even flinch.

Enoch stands on the dais as though he's carved out of glacier rock. No twitch, no eye shift, no indication that the walls are cracking behind his eyes. Not even a flicker of acknowledgment.

He's gone cold. My mate has gone cold.

His jaw ticks once. His hands are fisted at his sides, but the rest of him is still. Unreadable. Unreachable. Untouchable.

Then he turns.

I wish he hadn't.

Because when he turns to face me-those forest-green eyes, eyes that used to soften when they found mine, even in the dark, even when he forgot my name- are nothing now. It's just... empty. As if I was a dream he forced himself to wake up from.

He doesn't yell. That would've been easier to take.

No. He speaks. One word.

"Twice."

It slices through me and I immediately try to step forward.

"Enoch, I-" My voice cracks like glass. "I swear, that wasn't-"

"Twice now," he says, stepping forward, "you've fed them pieces of me."

The ballroom stretches and sways, too bright, too sharp. I feel it closing in. All the eyes, all the whispers. None of them matter. Just him. Just his voice-quiet, but heavier than any scream.

"It wasn't intentional-"

"Does it matter?" he says, and this time it's not a question. It's a sentence. A fucking death sentence. "The result is the

same."

I try to move. My legs are moving-I think. But he's already stepping off the dais,

the sound of his steps trailing behind him like a funeral shroud.

He's leaving.

He's leaving as if I'm nothing but smoke he's done breathing in. "Enoch, wait-"

Successfully unlocked!

I shove past a group of nobles, ignoring the way the people sinks as though they are already composing the article in her head: 'Lycan King Brought to His Knees by Omega Whore.'

I follow him. Into the side corridor off the ballroom. I don't even know where I'm going, I just chase the scent of him-warm pine and ash and destruction.

1/5

CHAPTER 117

"Enoch!"

a side chamber when

fucking listen to me-"

turns before he roughly yanks his arm

not angry. It's

this revenge?" he asks, his voice flat but wild beneath. "Is this

No, it's not like that. I

off when he laughs. Hollow. The kind of

a fool," he says, gesturing toward the ballroom. "Again. In front of the very

mine this time. I was going to show them the truth- about how much I love you

Taryn. I let you in," he says.

the floor before

marble, and it scrapes against the thin fabric of my dress, but I don't care. My palms press

I'm doing, or who's behind that video, but I

For a long time.

line so tight it's white. He looks like he's two seconds from

"Not anymore."

that leaves me isn't

from my chest,

And leaves.

No backward glance.

my knees on cold marble, a ballroom full of jackals,

I just lost

And this time?

might not come

***

marble floor as I walk, or stumble-fuck if I know anymore. My breath is hitching, shaky, uneven. I press my fingers against the side of

left. He

his back on me like I was a smear under his boot. Like none of it meant shit. The Maldives. The cave.

Or maybe someone was.

what Brooke

my chest burns like someone dumped gasoline in my

is what she meant.

abandoned, with nothing but long windows and statues too ancient

a

don't

A shift of

My whole body jerks.

"What the-?"

Then it happens.

CHAPTER 117

the flash of

lunges from the shadows

I fucking move.

this goddamn kingdom. My

slices across my

"Ah!"

and blood spills, warmth blooming beneath my ribs.

hand clutching the

groin, I don't care.

hit the

tiles meet my

under me, staining the satin of my

my own ragged breathing. And the faint, metallic scent

into my nose.

video. The ballroom.

They all fucking know

said, they know I'm the

wound the King.

hand to my side, clenching my teeth.

word tastes like iron and shame

bond still means anything-if he feels it like I

He has to.

down the hall, each step worse than

slips off the

room-our room-spins

sticking to my skin.

I land on it as I stare up the ceiling. Before I knew it, I'm

A hollow, cracked sound.

held his

kissed me as if I was the only fucking thing keeping

it holds nothing

shake. Full-body trembles that won't stop, no

blankets. I wait.

slam open. For his voice to

right now. Maybe help me bandage it

hours and hours and hours ticked and