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 I grab

fucking listen to me-"

turns before he roughly yanks his arm free. And his

It's

beneath. "Is this what I deserve for not loving

nothing comes out at first. Then-"No. No, it's not like that. I didn't mean for

Hollow. The kind

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

file is not mine this time. I was going to show them the truth- about how much I love

let you in," he says.

hit the floor before

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

desperation. "I 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

For a long time.

into a line so tight it's white. He looks like he's two seconds from shattering or setting the

"Not anymore."

sound that leaves me

feel it rip from my chest, raw and

And leaves.

no pause. No backward glance.

marble, a ballroom full of jackals,

I just lost him.

And this time?

might not come

***

anymore. My breath is hitching, shaky, uneven. I press my fingers against the side of my neck as if that's gonna keep the pain from

He fucking

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

Or maybe someone was.

what Brooke told me. It wasn't

body's cold, but my chest burns like someone dumped gasoline in my

match. iSo this is what

west wing-nobody uses it this late. It's quiet, abandoned, with nothing but long windows and statues

need a fucking second

I don't

rustle. A shift

My whole body jerks.

"What the-?"

Then it happens.

CHAPTER 117

against air-and the flash of silver catches the

figure lunges from the shadows towards

move. Instinct, panic, training from

defend myself in this goddamn kingdom.

blade slices

"Ah!" I

blooming beneath my ribs. It's not

one hand clutching the gash, the other swinging

near their gut or groin, I don't care. They grunt, stagger,

knees hit the

tiles meet my

of my dress, and all I

breathing. And the faint, metallic scent of blood

into my nose.

video. The

know now. They all fucking know

video said, they know I'm the way to get

wound the King.

press my hand to my side,

iron and

anything-if he feels it

He has to.

down the hall, each step worse than

My palm slips off the wall, leaving

room-spins

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

it as I stare up the

A hollow, cracked sound.

held

weight when he kissed me as if I was the only

holds nothing

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

blankets. I wait.

door to slam open. For his voice to snarl my

help

hours and hours ticked