Babysitting The Amnesiac Lycan King

CHAPTER 119

I didn't think I would see them here. Nor anyone or ever, actually. But here they are. The Goddess really do have a creative way of fucking with me.

"Seraphina?" Her name slips out like I've swallowed glass-jagged, hot, pointless.

And there she is.

I don't know how and why she's here but Italy hasn't humbled her. She's sleeker now, her hair is straightened into something sharp, her lips stained deep plum as though she's got places to be and men to kill. She's wearing a designer trench. Heels that click like accusations on concrete. Still walking like she's above everyone else, but now she probably is.

I cross my arms, mostly because I'm freezing and she looks warm and expensive in her tailored coat and those stupid chic sunglasses perched on her head like a tiara.

I feel like an airport rat in comparison-wrinkled jacket, bags under my eyes, adrenaline still dragging claws down my back after the flight and that almost- murder back home.

She looks at me as if I'm a ghost she didn't believe in. “Huh. So it really is you."

A pause. A heartbeat. I'm not sure if I want to punch her or collapse.

"I was told a new consultant was flying in," she says coolly, adjusting her

sunglasses on her head. "I didn't think I'd be scraping the bottom of that particular barrel."

My brow lifts. "Still a bitch. Thank God. I thought Italy might've scrubbed you clean."

She grins. It's not kind. "Please. The day I go soft is the day I die."

I hum. "Shame. I was hoping today might be the day."

She shrugs, a little too cool about it. "Italy's big, but the supernatural circle? Not so much." Then she gestures toward the waiting car like this is fucking normal. "Come on. We'll talk on the drive."

The silence between us is brutal-thick with all the shit we never said and probably won't.

But I follow her toward the waiting car anyway, because what the hell else am I supposed to do? Turn around and fly back to the ruins of my life?

She gestures with a flick of her manicured hand, and I climb into the backseat, spine stiff and fingers curled too tight around my duffel. Inside the car smells like leather and coffee. There's a half-empty bottle of sparkling water in the cupholder and some kind of EDM shit playing quietly from the front speakers. I settle in, tense, while Ser climbs in beside me and pulls the door shut.

This is the same girl who bullied the heavens out of me back then, yet also the first friend I thought I has when I first stepped in the Riverstone Pack.

She hasn't even asked why I'm here. But she knows.

CHAPTER 119

"You look like hell," she says, folding one leg over the other. "Rome's gonna eat you alive."

I shrug. “Let it try." I've had enough for the last week.

The driver doesn't say a word. He doesn't need to. He's paid to pretend we're not

sitting back here like two former enemies dressed in civility and secrets.

"So," she starts, dragging the syllable like it offends her. "You ran.”

I glance out the window. "I survived."

"And now you're here. Working for the same people who fund half the supernatural politics in Europe. Cute."

I turn my head, deadpan. "You done?"

She smirks. "Not even close. But I'll pace myself."

"So..." I say finally, dragging the word out. "You're a what now?"

She snorts, tipping her head back. "A lead secretary. Not exactly what I dreamed of when I was sixteen and delusional about becoming a Luna, huh?”

I glance sideways at her. "Didn't stop you from trying."

She shrugs again, a small wince tightening her face. "Fair. But after you... left, things between me and Kallias turned to absolute shit. Turns out status doesn't warm your bed when he won't touch you."

"Ouch."

her breath, bitter and amused. "Don't look so smug.

brow. "Which, by the way, is weirding me out." "Right? Same. I

peeling murals and sunburnt domes, and I let the scenery distract me from the fact that I'm sitting next to a girl who once tried to sleep with the boy I loved and almost got me killed for it. Time really is a sick

me. "So. What are you really

driver.

says,

in

start," I mutter.

Majesty?" she asks,

CHAPTER 119

answer. Which

whistles. "You really were mated to the Lycan King. I thought the

and King Ghost-Face-damn. You really like your men

same about you

"Touche."

after a beat, voice softer but no less dangerous, "I always wondered how it would

head, curious in that masochistic

She laughs, bitter. "You were always the feral one. I

guns blazing, not crawling back from the dead with a job and

across her face, and for the first time, I see it-the shadow of guilt. Real or fake?

she says quietly, "from those men-after the

My body tenses.

for you, you know. Enoch, that pet you saved. Like a madman. After the fire. After your scent disappeared. I thought he was going to

under my skin. I

already gone, and I figured maybe... maybe it was better

swallow hard.

doesn't answer. Just looks out the window like it's easier to face Rome

me.

you love him?"

that

I'm asking

pause. "He's not the kind of man you love quietly. He's a war

slow. "That's what I

shadows over the cobblestone street. I step

CHAPTER 119

divorce.

she locks the car. "Every fucking time I come home, someone's cooking pesto and blasting Andrea Bocelli

"Honestly? Vibe."

smile that barely reaches her eyes and leads me inside the building. It's older, but not in a creepy haunted-violin-music way. More like a

drunken pretzel and walls covered in faded floral wallpaper that

the doorman-a rapid, fluid exchange that sounds suspiciously like flirtation-and I blink at her. "You speak Italian now?" "One of the perks of being a corporate bitch," she smirks, swiping a keycard

That... sounds oddly appealing.

a sunlit living area with an open kitchen and a view of the city that could make an influencer sob. She gives me a half- tour with a lazy wave. "Guest room's down the hall. Bathroom's yours too-don't touch my retinol serum unless you want to lose a finger. Tomorrow I'll bring you to

"Sounds promising."

it up." She tosses me a pillow and blanket before disappearing into her

the adrenaline's finally leaving my system, leaving me raw and sore in all the places you can't see. I stare at the plain ceiling and imagine how my life would've looked if i hadn't met Enoch. Or

phone and shoot

am.

calling Zoe. She hasn't

clingy Zoe with her tea spills and love for conspiracy

Straight to voicemail,

I try again. Nothing.

myself, a sharp prick

panic. Not yet. Just...

CHAPTER 119

curse at the ceiling like it personally wronged

Still no sleep.

close my eyes.

some dreamscape bullshit way. She just appears in

fucking night for me to