Babysitting The Amnesiac Lycan King novel Chapter 121

CHAPTER 121

CHAPTER 121

ENOCH

The fucking paper won’t stop shaking.

It’s not my hands. It’s this cursed, pathetic excuse for a goodbye. Thin and too clean–smells like her. A whisper of lavender, something floral and too soft for the mess she left behind.

I don’t blink. I don’t breathe. Not until I tear it open.

The letter’s inside–folded neatly like she gave a shit about presentation. Typical Taryn. Even when she’s leaving, she does it with a ribbon and a bow.

I’m not ready to read it.

But I do anyway.

Something small slides out and hits the table. Tink. A black microchip. I stare at it for a second, my heart already punching through my ribcage as though it’s trying to escape the moment.

I unfold the letter. My eyes scan the page first. Her handwriting is still goddamn perfect. I fucking hate that I recognize her curves before her words.

Enoch,

If you’re reading this, it means I’m already gone. And no, not because I betrayed you–I never could. You know that. Deep down, past the rage. You know that. I never meant to hurt you. Not when I left, not when I hesitated.

The video that played at the Unity Ball wasn’t me. I was going to stop it–I did stop it. But someone took the file. I don’t know who, but I’ll find out. I promise.

This chip has something that belongs to you. To us. The real story, the one I wanted to tell. Not for the world, but for you.

I loved you. God, I still do. I don’t know how to stop.

I don’t expect you to believe me right now. Maybe not even ever. But one day, when it stops burning–when the bloodlust fades and your silence doesn’t sound like war drums–I hope you’ll play it.

Loving you was never the mistake.

And if there’s a next life–I’d choose you again. Even if it ends like this. Even if it ends bloody.

But we need space. You need time. And I… I need to stop bleeding for people who won’t stay.

If this is goodbye, then know this-

I never stopped choosing you.

-Taryn

My fingers curl into the edge of the letter until the paper creases hard enough to tear.

“You fucking liar,” I whisper. But my throat burns. My jaw tightens. Muscles strain until I taste iron on the back of my tongue.

Fuck.

Fuck her.

No, no. Don’t lie to yourself, Enoch.

You’d fucking burn down every kingdom for her.

I shove the letter aside and grab the chip. Plug it into my laptop. If this is another trick, another dagger dressed in silk–I swear to the fucking moon-

The screen lights up, cold and clinical, too modern for how raw my chest feels right now.

The video boots. Buffering.

And then–her face.

My world doesn’t just shift. It cracks.

There she is. Auburn eyes bright like she’s just told someone a dirty joke and got away with it. Her lips are curled into that

smug half–smile that used to get her out of everything–including my temper.

And her voice–fuck–I forgot how it wraps around you like barbed wire and honey.

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The video opens with her giggling. Blurry footage. It’s handheld, shaky as hell.

“Okay, this thing’s on, right? Ugh Enoch, you better not be watching this naked, or asleep, or naked and asleep because I swear to God-”

A blurry flash–camera pans too fast–my face shows up for half a second. I flinch at the light. Scow! She laughs behind

the screen.

“Shit, sorry! Flash! Okay, no flash, got it.”

The image steadies. We’re in Riverstone. That rundown cabin. My hair’s longer, sofy. She pans across the tiny room, all wooden floors and peeling paint. Then back to me.

I’m shirtless

Of course I am.

“I present to you, the grumpiest patient of all time,” she says in a fake posh accent. “Zero out of ten bedside manner. But, hey, look at those abs.”

I scoff under my breath. Fucking hell.

Another clip loads.

We’re on the beach. The Maldives. That night.

I recognize the sheets–white and kicked halfway off the bed, her legs tangled with mine. My arms are around her waist, and she’s giggling so hard the camera shakes again.

“Enoch–no, stop! I’m recording–baby-!”

A low grunt from me as I reach for the camera. She squeals, holding it above her head like it’s some national treasure. “Put that shit down,” I growl in the background.

She laughs harder.

“Just say hi to future–you. C’mon. This is for memories. For-”

The camera shakes as I snatch it. It falls sideways into the sand. Her giggle fills the speakers.

“Give. It. Back.”

“Make me.”

She squeals. My arm comes into frame. And then–There’s a snap. The frame cuts mid–tackle.

Jesus fucking Christ.

My hands curl into fists.

Third clip.

She’s lying in my bed. I’m still passed out beside her, arm flung over the sheets, hair a mess, mouth slightly open like I’m mid–growl.

Her fingers trace over my back.

And her voice is soft.

“This is my mate. The grumpy, hot, king–of–the–underworld bastard that somehow puts up with me. I’m so screwed.”

I clench my jaw so hard it cracks. “So hot. I mean, who gave him the right? Look at that jawline.”

She giggles again, stupid and soft.

“Anyway, if he ever sees this–hi, babe. You’re welcome. I could’ve drooled on you but didn’t.”

I press pause.

My chest is… fuck.

My hand balls into a fist.

I can’t breathe.

But I press play again.

Next scene. Silver glitter. Everywhere. She’s filming the ballroom–half decorated, total chaos.

“Oh my Goddess, this is a disaster,” she says. “There’s literal glitter in Enoch’s hair right now. And he’s gonna lose his shit-” “Sinclair,” I bark offscreen. “What the fuck is this powder all over me?” She zooms in on my scowl. “He hates this,” she says

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sweetly “So naturally, I’m going to throw more glitter”

I roll my eyes on screen, and two seconds later I’ve tackled her into the floor, both of us choking on laughter. The camera shakes violently

All you hear is screaming, taughter, bodies crashing into boxes. Then her voice again, breathless and breathy and rest

“Okay, okay! I give up!”

Then the clip changes one last time

The final video.

It’s her

Just her

She’s alone. In my office

Wearing that dress. The deep navy one that made my throat close the second I saw her in it. Her hair’s curled Lipstick smudged like she did it fast

The background hum sounds like the Unity Ball, muffled downstairs.

“This is probably the only time I’ll get to say this,” she says quietly. “Everyone’s at the ball, and you’re probably downstairs too. Or maybe still sulking. I don’t know.”

She twirls in place, the dress catching the light.

She looks like a goddess. No–like something mine.

She looks straight at the camera.

No smile this time. No jokes.

“This was supposed to play tonight. I thought it’d be fun. Maybe embarrassing. Definitely chaotic. But it was… everything burned.”

Her voice cracks, but she keeps going.

1. us. Before

“Enoch Blackwell,” she says. “My mate. My King. If you’re seeing this, then somehow the world saw something else. But this–this was the real story. You. Me. In glitter and sand and early mornings and late–night kisses and almosts and forevers.”

She swallows. Her chin lifts. “If this ever plays,” she whispers, “Enoch Blackwell, you are my long–destined mate. My longtime boyfriend. And if it’s not too much trouble… would you maybe, possibly, grant this girl a dance?”

Silence.

The screen goes black.

I close the laptop.

I can’t fucking move.

I lean back in the chair like something just cracked inside me. Maybe it did. Maybe she took it with her when she left.

I stand so fast the chair skids across the room. My claws rip through the desk before I even realize I shifted.

“FUCK!”

I slam my fist into the wall. Again. Again. Until the bones crack and blood splashes down the surface.

I stare at the ceiling. My jaw clenched so tight it feels wired shut.

She didn’t betray me.

She fucking loved me.

Even if I have to burn the world to do it.

I can’t fucking breathe.

There’s blood under my fingernails. Not real blood. Not hers.

Her voice’s still playing in my head like it was looped and embedded in the lining of my skull.

“I love you… isn’t that worth anything to you?”

I should’ve answered her.

I should’ve answered her.

I should’ve-

CHAPTER 121

“Fuck!” I roar, slamming my fist into the side of the stone column, fracturing the surface and splitting my knuckles open in

one go.

The palace shakes unde my grief. Or maybe it’s just me–fracturing, again.

My breathing turns harsh. I lean forward, both palms pressed against the cold stone, sweat dripping from my jaw

It’s not sweat.

It’s fucking tears.

Pathetic.

I wipe my face with the back of my hand and stare at the crimson spots dotting my skin. The screen behind me has gone black, her face gone with it.

But I still see it.

Taryn looking up at me, soaked in hurt and tears, begging me to see her. Hear her. Pick her

And I fucking turned my back like a goddamn coward.

My wolf hasn’t said shit since I shut him down hours ago. But he’s stirring now.

Pissed.

Raging

“You don’t deserve her.”

My wolf’s voice slices through my skull.

“Shut up,” I mutter, jaw locked.

“You walked away. She begged. And you fucking walked away.”

“SHUT UP!” I slam my fist into the mirror. Glass bites back, tearing open my knuckles.

Blood drips down the porcelain sink in thick, lazy trails.

Good.

At least something’s bleeding.

I barely get two seconds to suck down air before the mindlink slams into me.

“Enoch–Taryn. Her room. Now.”

Jacob’s voice is sharper than usual. There’s no bullshit tone.

I don’t wait for more. I storm through the hallway, blood still dripping from my hand.

The guards scatter like roaches as I tear through the hallway, my bare feet pounding against the marble floors. I don’t stop when I turn the corner. Jacob’s eyes flick to me. “Don’t lose your shit.” I shove past him. I slam my shoulder into her door and bust it open-

And then the fucking world goes still.

Blood.

Everywhere.

Fuck.

No. No, no-

On the sheets. On the pillows. On the goddamn floor. It’s soaked into everything. The room reeks of it.

My lungs stop working.

My wolf snaps the chains I put around him and surges forward, clawing at the walls of my skull with a snarl that makes my bones crack from the inside out.

“No,” I mutter, stumbling to the bed. I fall to my knees, grabbing at the sheet with shaking hands. It’s sticky. Still warm. Still fresh.

“What the fuck happened here?!” I roar, teeth bared, voice no longer human.

Jacob’s behind me, his chest heaving. “We don’t know yet. She was fine earlier. But this…” He doesn’t finish. He doesn’t have to. His eyes are locked on the blood–soaked sheets like it’s a fucking crime scene.

Because it is.

“She’s not here. Which means she might still be alive,” Jacob adds quickly, trying to calm me, to pull me back from the ledge I’m about to fucking swan dive off. “She’s gone,” Jacob says behind me, low and tight. “She fled. After the Unity Ball. Probably thought we’d come for her after the leak-”

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CHAPTER 121

“She didn’t leak it.”

My voice is guttural. Almost inhuman.

“I know that now.”

Too fucking late.

Too fucking late.

I’m already past the point of no return.

My eyes sting, heat burning through them until my vision shifts–green to gold to red.

Blood–red.

The Lycan King is fucking awake now.

And someone’s going to die.

My nails lengthen. Bones crack. My wolf pushes, angry, starving, wild with guilt and rage. My irises flicker from emerald to bloodred.

“You abandoned her.”

“You let them touch what was ours.”

My wolf’s voice overlaps mine. I can’t tell which one of us is breathing heavier.

A heavy thud behind us makes me turn. My Gamma drags in a figure–a man dressed in dirt–caked clothes, hood pulled over his face, body limp and half–dragged.

“We caught him at the borders,” He says. “Running like hell. Thought he was one of ours, but-”

The man jerks, thrashing, trying to break free. “I didn’t mean to-”

Jacob grabs him and yanks off the hood. The guy’s face is pale, blood on his cheek, sweat drenching his forehead. He reeks of fear.

“You know her?” I growl.

“I–I was just following that bitch. The girl–she fought like a fucking savage–bit me. I got her once in the side-*

That’s all I need to hear.

I don’t blink.

Don’t speak.

I move.

My claws are out and shoved through his ribcage in half a breath. My fingers curl around something warm and pumping- his fucking heart.

He doesn’t even get to scream before I rip out his heart with a snarl.

Jacob yells. “Jesus fuck, Enoch!”

I chuck the organ to the floor, where it lands with a wet thud.

“You listen to me,” I say, voice low and coiled with the kind of rage that shakes kingdoms. I wipe the blood from my hand on the bastard’s shirt as I face them both.

“Find her.”

The Gamma doesn’t breathe.

“Bring her back to me. I don’t care if you have to burn every pack between here and the fucking moon. FIND. HER.” The walls vibrate with the force of my power.

“She’s mine.”

And I’m not asking again.

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