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!"

to a side chamber when I

Just fucking listen to me-" I

before he roughly yanks his

It's worse.

this revenge?" he asks, his voice flat but wild beneath. "Is this what I deserve for not loving you

No, it's

Hollow. The kind of sound that doesn't belong in

gesturing toward the ballroom. "Again. In front

"That file is not mine this time. I was going to show them the truth- about how much I love you and-and everything we went through. The Maldives, the

in," he says. "And now

the floor before I

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

don't know what the fuck I'm doing, or who's behind that video, but I love you. Please, baby." I look up at him as tears began to slid out of my eyes. "Isn't that worth

stares. For a long

into a line so tight it's white. He looks like he's

"Not anymore."

leaves

feel it rip from my chest, raw and hoarse, as he

And leaves.

pause. No

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

I just

And this time?

not come

***

know anymore. My breath is hitching, shaky, uneven. I press my fingers against the side of my neck

left. He

smear under his boot. Like none of it meant shit. The Maldives. The cave. Every whispered

Or maybe someone was.

what Brooke told

chest burns like someone

this is what she meant. She

through the west wing-nobody uses it this late. It's quiet, abandoned, with nothing but long windows and statues too ancient to feel real. The silence

need a fucking second to

I don't get

A shift

My whole body jerks.

"What the-?"

Then it happens.

CHAPTER 117

zing-steel against air-and the flash of silver catches

from the shadows towards me. Holy

move. Instinct, panic,

myself in this goddamn kingdom. My arm comes up, but not

blade slices across

"Ah!"

dress tears, and blood spills, warmth blooming beneath my ribs. It's not a nick-it's deep, raw,

hand clutching

near their gut or groin, I don't care. They grunt, stagger, and then they're

hit

meet my

of my dress, and all I can hear

And the

into my nose.

The ballroom. His

all fucking

what that video said, they know I'm

wound the King.

my hand to my side, clenching my teeth.

word tastes like iron and shame

bond still means anything-if he feels it like I do-he'll

He has to.

myself down the hall, each step

slips off the wall, leaving a red

room-spins into

the bed, face-first, dress sticking to my skin. The sheets are

too soft. I land on it as I stare up the ceiling. Before I

A hollow, cracked sound.

held

arms. His weight when he kissed me as if I was the only fucking thing keeping

holds nothing but

Full-body trembles that won't stop, no matter how tightly

blankets. I wait.

open. For his voice to snarl my name, worried

Maybe help me

and hours ticked and