Babysitting The Amnesiac Lycan King

Chapter 129

His hands are rough. Not cruel. Not gentle. Just... desperate.

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Fingers digging into the backs of my thighs, Enoch hauls me up like I weigh nothing. "Ah!" My breath catches as my knees hook instinctively around his waist, heat flaring between us-between my legs, between our chests, between what the fuck we are and what we've turned into.

We crash against the edge of a wooden table, and the clatter makes me flinch. Old paint peels under my fingertips as I grip the edge behind me. The wood groans under our weight. Enoch stands between my legs, his chest heaving like he's been fighting ghosts.

Maybe he has.

Maybe I'm one of them.

His pupils are blown wide, green barely visible now. His jaw ticks, his throat bobs, and his fingers flex around my thighs like he's scared I'll vanish if he lets go. Like I haven't already been disappearing, piece by piece.

I reach for his face. My left hand lands first, the good one. My right is slower, trembling, bloody from earlier. I press the pads of my fingers to his cheekbone, and he flinches-not from pain. From restraint.

He's burning. I feel it under his skin, in the way his body vibrates with tension, his lips trembling slightly. He's definitely seconds away from losing control. He could snap my neck like a fucking twig and part of me thinks he knows it. Maybe that's why he's breathing so hard.

As though he's trying to hold back the monster

"You're coming back with me." He growls. It

A threat.

God, I almost laugh.

everyone swears isn't real.

question. Not really. But not a command either. It's...a tantrum. A plea.

The Lycan King, reduced to begging like a boy who doesn't know what to do with

a woman who keeps slipping through his fingers. The same fingers now tightening slightly on my waist though he's trying to imprint me into his skin.

"I am," I lie.

I fucking lie through my teeth and I hate how easy it is.

"I'm coming with you." I murmur with assurance dripping in my tone.

He nods once, jerky. His forehead drops into my palm as though gravity dragged it there. Like I'm some kind of anchor in this storm he hasn't named. He takes my bloody hand and presses his much larger one over it, sealing it there against his face.

My skin burns where he touches.

Everything burns.

I try to ignore the way my lower back throbs from being pressed into the sharp edge of the table. I try not to react to the heat blooming between us again, how my stupid, hormonal body reacts to the smell of him-earth and spice and war.

He's shaking. Barely. But I feel it. In his breath. In his grip. In the way his words tremble when he says, "You'll be my queen after this, right? I'll put you on the throne. They'll kneel. They'll all fucking kneel."

His voice cracks around the fantasy. Like he can already taste it.

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Chapter 129

He's already trying to believe that it's real. His queen? A woman that would rule beside him? Me?

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My stomach tightens-not just from nerves, but from the tiny life hiding inside me that he still doesn't know about. The secret I'm cradling under all this goddamn lying.

I nod as I lie through my teeth again. "Yes, baby. I'll be your queen" I murmur and his eyes close as I press my lips to his forehead.

One kiss. One trap.

Like we always do even back then and now.

Forehead.

Nose.

Mouth.

That's the ritual. That's how I soothe the beast. The routine that makes him calm enough to believe I'm still his.

He leans in again, nose brushing mine. His lips don't move for a while. I think he's scared to speak. And when he does, it's barely louder than a whisper.

love you so fucking

in his

breaks. "You're not gonna leave

hard. My throat clenches. And it happens without permission-one fucking tear

he didn't see it. But I know he did. I know he's always watching me more closely than I

comes out quieter than I intend. Fragile

you again."

Lies, lies, lies.

kiss him for the last time. Finally, on his

is slow, uncertain, and I force myself not to fall into it. Not to let it turn real. Because if

I pull away, his eyes are still

brief second, I think-maybe I should

should let him know I'm carrying his

I should stop

exhales, ragged. Hands still gripping my waist

I realize it's too late. We're too broken. Too fucked

He needs his queen.

can't

shiver. Every

Thu, 22

Chapter 129

cheeks and his lips brush over

and deliberate like he's

against my skin right before he presses a kiss there, and it takes everything in me not to flinch. Not because I'm scared-okay, I am scared-but because

he'll

But I know better.

let go of

I rest my palm on his cheek again, this time with less trembling. "It

fabricated, manipulated

Enoch fucking believes

Everything I say, he

second, his wolf instincts flaring as if he smells the lie but can't quite put a name to it. He stares

me that," he mutters, hand ghosting

I force a little smile. "I'm telling

studies me, and something

he knows I'm lying. Or maybe

I'm honest and his

protected. He likes me like this, in the palm of

far, just enough

mine, brutal and bruising, teeth scraping, tongue forcing a whimper from my throat I didn't mean to give. It's all lips

breathes

against me, his forehead resting against

"I won't spare anyone."

mean to

don't mean to clench

way he says it-as though I'm his personal apocalypse. That

just to smell

swallowing. My knees wobble as I whimper,

breath. Just

steps echoing, the door clicking shut

finality of

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Chapter 129

that door as

This is it.

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I run.

scrabbling along the wall until I find the emergency exit Seraphina mapped out for

narrow, the metal door creaks, and my heart's pounding so violently I

it between my teeth.

who aren't being hunted by a goddamn Lycan King with abandonment issues and claws that could rip steel. I just run. Down the stairs. Past the

even stop to put on my

don't need shoes

I just need distance.

as I hit the

uses for deliveries- shitty lighting, worse smell. My lungs are burning, ribs pinching under my bra. I press a hand to my stomach to cradle it, to cradle

"We're okay. I

But then-

BOOM.

The ground fucking shakes.

cement under my feet and echoes off the alley

second later, a

if someone flung a

my head

glowing. Pulsing. As though it's