Babysitting The Amnesiac Lycan King novel Chapter 115

CHAPTER 115

The next morning feels as though someone shoved a sock down my throat and dared me to sprint a marathon. It was thee total contrary of what had happened last night’s break down.

I don’t know what the fuck is in the air today, but it feels lighter. Almost… buoyant.

‘You were a bitch just a few hours ago.‘ Eris murmurs in the back of my mind and I internally roll my eyes at her. As if I was the only one who lashed out. I walk over to the guest room of the palace where Zoe has been staying since Jacob invited her to help with the Unity Ball.

“We need to move,” I called out and I hear her murmur ‘bitch‘ as she wakes up from her

slumber.

It took a couple of minutes as I stare straight into the vanity mirror, staring at the auburn eyes of the woman in front of me. A smile spreads on my face, remembering my mate’s words last night.

“If we’re gonna burn, then we’ll burn together, baby.” A grin slips past my lips as I swipe my lip balm before fixing everything else.

Get a grip, Taryn, tomorrow’s the big day.

I drag myself into the giant ballroom with a now chattering Zoe at my side, arms full of

decorations, glitter, fake snow, and enough ribbon to strangle a damn elephant.

“Smile, Taryn!” Zoe chirps, almost dropping a box of glass ornaments on my foot. “It’s a decorating day, not a funeral.”

“Same thing,” I mutter, shoving a chair into place with my hip. My hands still feel raw from last night–clutching too tightly, holding onto someone who wasn’t mine to keep.

“Move your ass, Sinclair,” Jacob barks from across the room, grinning like a hyena.

“Eat shit, Wyatt,” I shoot back automatically.

He smirks.

We start the decorating with all the pack members‘ eyes on the four of us. The Alpha King, his Beta, an Omega, and a clueless human. A bunch of people you would not expect to be helping with the decorations.

Most especially Enoch.

Zoe moves to one of the cabinets and drags a plastic crate bigger than her entire body, bitching under her breath about how “they always make the hot girls do the heavy lifting” while Jacob leans against the nearest pillar like he’s posing for a goddamn. magazine cover.

And Enoch.

Of course,

CHAPTER 115

Enoch’s stalking around the ballroom in that lazy, predatory way like he owns the entire fucking place–which, technically, he does–but today he’s decided to ‘help.’

Which apparently means sabotage.

Black Henley stretched over his chest, jeans hanging low on his hips, forest green eyes locked onto me like I’m the last drinkable thing in the desert.

I pretend not to notice to which I absolutely fail miserably. Last night was both our hearts raw on each other’s hands. I sure as heck know it was the most intimate we’ve

ever been.

Nothing would separate us now. I just need to announce to the whole world who I am. A daughter of the Lancasters—one worthy to be Queen. His Queen.

Zoe and I are wrapping the massive support beams with silk ribbons, trying to make the ballroom look less like a haunted Victorian murder house, when it happens.

“Don’t even think about it,” I snap without looking.

“Think about what, Omega?” Enoch’s voice practically purrs from behind me.

I turn just in time to catch him mid–smirk, a thick ribbon looped casually around his fingers like he’s already imagining me tied up in it.

“You tie me up and I’ll shove that fucking ribbon so far up your ass, they’ll have to surgically remove it,” I warn.

Jacob actually snorts from across the room.

“Hot,” Enoch says, and before I can blink, he lunges–fast as a goddamn viper- snatching my wrist and spinning me like I weigh nothing.

The silk wraps around me quick, a blur of forest green and muscle and a wicked grin.

“Hey–HEY!” I shriek, trying to fight him off, but my arms are pinned to my sides, the ribbon circling me like a boa constrictor on meth. I yelp, spinning, but it’s too late- Enoch’s behind me, laughing under his breath, yanking the final knot tight.

“You son of a bitch!” I wriggle, glaring over my shoulder. The pack members

immediately look at me and I swear one of them gives a disgusting look. Jokes on you, I’m the only one who gets to call him like this.

Your powerful King kneels in front of a lowly woman.

“Language, Omega,” he murmurs, smirking as the absolute bastard he is.

Across the room, Jacob is tying Zoe up like a holiday roast while she shrieks.

“We’re being attacked!” Zoe shouts to the rest of the pack members, who are just standing there blinking as if someone dropped acid in the water supply. “Help! Tyranny! Abuse!”

Nobody moves. Some are even laughing. Actual warriors. Useless.

“You’re all children!” I bark out, half–laughing, half–plotting murder. “Literal, grown–ass

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toddlers.”

“I prefer ‘fun–loving entrepreneurs,” Jacob says, tossing Zoe over his shoulder as if she weighs nothing. She screeches like a kettle boiling over.

I finally break free by jerking my elbow into Enoch’s ribs, practically dislocating my shoulder in the process,. He grunts–satisfyingly, might I add–and I lunge for the nearest weapon I can find.

A bucket of glitter.

1 snatch a fistful of it, hurling it straight down his shirt collar. He immediately rears back as if I just dumped acid on him.

He freezes, looking down in horror at his now–sparkling torso.

“You dared,” he growls.

I cackle so hard I double over, clutching my stomach.

“And I’d do it again,” I grin, breathless and giddy. “Suffer, bitch.”

He stands there stoic, covered in white shines, blinking slowly like he’s reconsidering all his life choices.

“I

“You’re shiny now, Your Majesty,” I wheeze out between giggles. “You’re welcome.”

Jacob isn’t safe either. Zoe dumps an entire bag of fake snow on his head like a vengeful elf.

“You two are dead,” Jacob mutters, spitting out fake flakes.

Goddess, it feels good to laugh. I didn’t realize how much I missed it–this lightness in my chest, even if it’s all temporary.

Even if deep down, that cold, slithering fear still lingers. Brooke’s words are still stuck

my head that it’s not over.

in

But today… today, I’m choosing not to drown in it.

***

The chaos doesn’t stop there.

By noon, we’re all seated at a long table with glass ornaments in front of us for the Unity Ball auction tomorrow, and I’m still finding glitter in Enoch’s hair. We’re supposed to create dedication paintings, ones that the guests would want to invest into.

The four of us, for fun, decides to vote which are the best paintings and I’m already waving my white flag.

Goddess, I am definitely not blessed at art. “What are you doing?” I demand, peering over his shoulder.

He covers it protectively. “No cheating.”

I turn to Enoch, “If you keep scowling,” I tell him, dabbing a tiny brush into silver paint,

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your face is gonna stick like that.”

“I’ll make sure it’s the last thing you see before you die,” he deadpans.

“Swoon,” Zoe sighs dramatically beside me.

I roll my eyes but back off, grabbing my own ornament and a brush. I paint a tiny

Goon Enoch–big green psycho eyes and exaggerated wolf ears–crying. Like a little

bitch. Underneath it, I scrawl: King Baby.

When Enoch finally reveals his masterpiece, it’s a tiny wolf, a silver one… with ” Property of Enoch” scrawled underneath in aggressive black letters.

‘That’s me.‘ I hear Eris mumble and my heart leaps a million miles. Okay, he’s done it.

He shoves it in my face proudly like a goddamn caveman showing off his kill.

“Subtle,” I say dryly. “Really nailed the ‘creepy obsessive boyfriend‘ vibe.”

He winks. “Not a boyfriend, baby. Mates.”

Enoch leans over, eyebrow raised, flashing me his own ornament.

Voting time comes, and to nobody’s shock, Zoe wins. She painted a masterpiece of me punching Enoch in the face.

A good one, honestly.

“You’re all blind,” Enoch grumbles, tossing his brush down.

“And you’re just mad I didn’t paint your abs,” I say sweetly.

“You think you’re funny,” he mutters.

I flash him a grin that says you love it, asshole.

***

Later, we’re dragged into a dance practice from hell. Jacob’s barking waltz steps like some deranged drill sergeant. I can definitely see him being one.

Enoch’s mind is still trying to process out his dancing experience. It’s been wiped off with his amnesia but he’s still so good at it.

“One, two, three, one, two–Taryn, you’re killing him.”

I smile, deliberately grinding my heel into his expensive shoes.

“Oops,” I say with zero remorse.

“You’ll pay for that,” he warns low, grabbing my waist harder.

“You trying to cripple me before the Ball, Omega?” he murmurs low against my ear, the bastard.

I grin sweetly. “You’d still look hot limping.”

Instead of sticking to the steps like a normal person, he dips me so low my hair brushes the floor-

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and kisses me like he doesn’t give a single fuck about anything but me.

Heat explodes in my chest, pooling lower, making my knees go weak. His kiss deepens and my knees melt as his tongue explores my mouth.

“Jesus Christ,” Zoe groans loudly from the sidelines. “Get a room before I puke glitter.”

I flip her off without breaking the kiss. Priorities.

***

That night, it’s just me and Zoe in our room, giggling like idiots as we film the dumbest, most reckless video known to mankind. We’re stringing together last–minute footage for the giant projector tomorrow.

I’m staring into the camera, heart hammering, and I say, “Enoch Blackwell, will you be

mine?”

Zoe squeals. We watch the video back three times, giddy and high off adrenaline.

“Are you sure you want to show this video?” Zoe asks, biting her lip as we watch it again–me on video asking Enoch if he could be mine, cheesy as fuck.

“He’s mine whether he knows it or not. Plus, tomorrow’s his birthday, this is my gift.” I say, tossing a pillow at her.

We both collapse into giggles, the kind that hurts your ribs and waters your eyes.