Babysitting The Amnesiac Lycan King

King 40 Chapter 40 Enoch is sprawled across my chest like a particularly heavy blanket, his face buried in the crook of my neck, his dow berabe warming my skin. His arms havelocked in place, and judging by the way he tenses at even the smallest sound, he's not fully asleep-he never really is.

I brush my fingers through his tangled dark hair, a useless attempt at soothing him, knowing damn well he'll wake up in tem minutes tops, muscles coiled like a spring, eyes darting for threats that aren't there.

He's been here long enough to know this house is safe-or, well, as safe as it gets when you're harboring an amnesiac Lacas King who probably has an army looking for him. But the paranoia runs deep, a survival instinct that won't let him go His grip tightens when I shift beneath him. A low growl vibrates against my collarbone.

"Relax, big guy," I whisper, easing his fingers off me. "I'm just getting up." Another growl, softer this time, then he finally releases me.

I slip out from under him, carefully lowering his arm onto the bed before tiptoeing toward the back door A smart person would stay inside, enjoy the quiet, maybe even try to get ssleep. But curiosity has been the death of many, and I, unfortunately, am not immune to its grasp.

This is a stupid idea.

The night air is sharp, biting at my exposed skin as I step outside. The packhouse is silent, the kind of silence that thickens the air, makes every tiny noise sound louder than it should be.

A breeze brushes past, rustling the trees. The smell of damp earth and old blood lingers in the air. I take another step, boots crunching against the dirt.

I don't know why I do this to myself-why I feel the need to visit the exact place I almost got torn apart by rogue as if I was skind of self-destructive idiot. Maybe I just want to prove to myself that I can. Maybe I need to know if I imagined the whole thing.

The laundry area is exactly as I remember it. The rusted metal sink, the stacks of folded sheets that somehow still smell like soap despite being exposed to the elements. Nothing out of place. Nothing lurking in the shadows.

I exhale a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

A bush rustles to my right.

Every muscle in my body goes rigid.

I turn, breath caught in my throat, fingers curling into fists.

Something moves.

My heart slams against my ribs as I inch closer. A shadow shifts behind the leaves. I brace myself, legs tensed, ready to fight or run. I know I should walk away. I know better than this. But knowing and doing are two different things, and before I can stop myself, I'm peering over the edge of the shrubs.

Then- A fucking raccoon scurries out, pausing just long enough to shoota judgmental look before waddling off into the darkness.

I release a breathy laugh, sagging in relief. "You little shit," I mutter, shaking my head.

1/6 10.3 Fri, 21 Mar Chapter 40 The relief lasts exactly two seconds.

Because the moment I turn around, an arm snakes around my waist, yankingbackward. A rough hand clamps over my mouth before I can scream.

I go rigid, my scream caught in my throat.

"Don't move. Don't scream. Don't look." A deep voice murmurs against my ear, the words barely more than a whisper, but they might as well be gunshots for how hard my body locks up. My blood turns to ice.

"Listen carefully," the voice continues, his grip tightening. "Release him. Send him back to the wild where he belongs. Or you'll pay the cost of saving him-and it won't be cheap," A second voice, this one a woman's, soft but sharp, like a blade wrapped in silk.

My breath stutters. I twist in their hold, trying to get a look at them, but the man jerksback.

"I said don't look." I grind my teeth, adrenaline surging, and wrench myself free with a force that surprises even me. My body whirls, fists clenched, ready to fight- But they're already gone.

The shadows stretch long and empty. The forest beyond is eerily still, untouched.

My pulse thrums in my ears.

I stand there for what feels like an eternity, waiting, listening. But there's nothing. Justand the quiet night.

Fuck.

No footsteps. No sound. No sign that anyone was ever here.

Just me.

Alone.

*** I don't sleep.

Not even for a second.

Enoch does, though, which is a first. He's got an iron grip aroundthe entire night, his breathing steady, unaware that my mind is eating itself alive, replaying those whispered words on a loop. I'm sure they mean Enoch, but what is it that they gain from havingletting him go? By morning, he's gone again. Just like always.

I don't even bother feeling surprised anymore. Instead, I drag myself to the kitchen and start preparing food for his training, my hands working on autopilot while my brain remains stuck on last night.

Who the hell were they? More importantly, how the fuck did they know about Enoch? 2/6 Chapter 40 My hands shake as I slice through an apple, the knife pressing too hard against the wood, 1 exude dowly, trying tw myself. Now's not the tto spiral. Not when I have a brooding Lycan Ying to feed, By the tI step into the hallway, balancing a tray of food, I'm still distracted. So much so that 1 almost now the way the Omegas I pass bow their heads ever so slightly.

My brows shoot up. Since when did that start happening? Oh. Right, The Alpha's announcement.

Guess they were all given strict instructions not to treatlike garbage anymore.

It still feels weird. Two weeks ago, they wouldn't have spit onif I was on fire. Now they treatlike I matter, thanks to the Alpha's decree which I'm pretty sure was just because Enoch was founded to be the Alpha King, Which, of course, doesn't sit well with Seraphina.

"I hope you're not getting too comfortable, Omega," she purrs, blocking my path. She flicks imaginary line off her deme, her lips curling with amusement, "You know how quickly things can change," she purrs, stepping closer, "One minute, you're safe in the pack, and the nex poof, Gone." I sigh, shifting the tray to one hand. "Real subtle, Seraphina" "Who said I was being subtle?" She leans in, dipping into something silkier, more poisonous. "You should've left the stray in the woods where you found him." My stomach twists.

My blood turns ice-cold.

Those words- The sfucking words from last night.

I school my face into something neutral, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. Seraphina's a lot of things-vain. annoying, desperate-but she's not smart enough to pull something like that off.

Right? No. Not a chance.

I study her carefully, searching for any sign of deception, any hint that she knows exactly what she's doing I shove past her without another word, pushing down the unease clawing at my gut. I don't let myself breathe until I'm back in my room.

Then I stop short.

My door.

A dagger-rusted, old-nailed straight through the wood.

A scrap of parchment dangles from it, ink scrawled across the påge in jagged, uneven letters." "Return what does not belong to you. Final warning." A shiver rips down my spine.

3/6 10.3 Fri, 21 Mar Chapter 40 I don't move.

I don't breathe.

I just stare, heart hammering, pulse roaring in my ears.

Because I don't think they're talking about Enoch anymore.

Someone wantsgone.

And I'm starting to think they might actually succeed.

89% I rip the note down so hard the parchment nearly tears in half before I even register what I'm doing. My fingers clutch it too tight, the words blurring as my vision tunnels. Final warning.

The pressure that's been building in my chest since last night detonates. My breaths csharp, uneven. The room feels smaller. The walls closer. My heartbeat thunders against my ribs, too loud, too fast.

It's fine. It's fine.

I just need to- Strong arms wrap aroundfro Enoch.

behind, and I nearly jump out of my own damn skin.

His warmth is instant, his weight grounding. He doesn't speak, just presses his chest into my back, arms locked aroundlike he's holdingtogether. And honestly? Maybe he is.

His nose nudges the side of my head, silent, questioning. Then he stiffens.

Shit.

The paper.

I move to shove it behind me, but Enoch is faster. The note is ripped from my grip before I can blink.

"Enoch, don't-" His eyes scan the words.

His face is unreadable.

Then, without a goddamn word, he strides to the fireplace, tosses the note into the flames, and watches it burn.

My stomach twists.

He knows. He fucking knows.

But he doesn't say a thing.

I stare at him, waiting-daring-him to givesomething. A reaction. An explanation. A single, damn clue as to what the hell is happening.

Nothing.

The only sound is the crackling fire, eating away at the warning like it never existed.

*** 10:35 Fri, 21 Mar Chapter 40 I don't sleep that night.

Enoch does. Or at least, he fakes it well. He's pressed againstagain, warm and steady, while my mind spirals into oblivion. The weight of the warning, the note, his silence-it all sits in my gut like lead.

Something is coming.

I can feel it.

And then the scream shatters the night.

Seraphina.

I'm moving before I can think.

89% +53) The dagger under my pillow is in my hand. My feet slap against the cold floor,

heart hammering as I sprint through the dimly lit halls. The packhouse is eerily empty-no patrols, no night guards, nothing. Just an unnatural silence clinging to the air like a thick fog. The scream rings out again, this tweaker.

I shove through the back door, the cold night air slappingin the face.

And then I see it.

Seraphina.

On her knees.

Two cloaked figures flank her, their grips hard as she thrashes weakly, her hair tangled, eyes wild with something I've never seen in them before.

Fear.

Her gaze finds mine. Just for a second. But it's enough.

I see it-the realization. The sick understanding.

The warning wasn't just for me.

A voice murmurs something I can't hear. One of the figures pulls out a small vial.

My stomach turns cold.

They yank her head back.

Force the liquid past her lips.

She chokes, gasping, clawing at their hands- and then her body goes still. Limp.

Like a puppet with its strings cut.

I don't think. I move.

The dagger in my grip is aimed for the closest figure, my body surging forward in a blur of desperation and rage.

A mistake.

Pain stabs through my neck.

Something sharp. Small.

My steps falter. My vision blurs.

I reach up, fingers closing around a thin, metal dart. I Tripitout, but it's too late. 5/6 Chapter 40 My limbs feel wrong. Heavy. Useless. The ground tilts, my thoughts scrambling, slipping through my fingers.

I hit the dirt hard.

The world is spinning. It begins to feel distant.

Above me, a shadow looms.

A voice, smooth and amused, murmurs in my ear- "You should have listened."