Babysitting The Amnesiac Lycan King novel Chapter 59

Chapter 59 

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5.96% 

I rush to the ends of the Mall where the limo has now stopped and my eyes widen to see the media fucking round it like bees. I swear the fucking universe has a personal vendetta against me 

“Alphat 

“Your Majesty, look here!” I can’t see him at all with all the people flocking around, though I doubt they’re going to get a good picture either. 

Shit, it was their car. 

I swear the unifverse has some personal vendetta against mm. 

It’s the only explanation at this point. 

Out of all the rich assholes speeding around the city, it had to be him. 

He’s here. 

Watching. 

Waiting. 

The Alpha King himself, lurking behind tinted windows like some goddamn puppet master, pulling strings while I stumble through life trying to piece together the mess he left behind. 

I don’t know whether to scream or laugh hysterically. 

Instead, I flip off the spot where his limo disappeared down the street, muttering under my breath like a lunatic while Zoe drags me toward another overpriced boutique. 

“Okay, simmer down, unhinged little gremlin.” She snickers, looping her arm through mine. “You’re officially one coffee away from committing vehicular homicide.” 

“I should’ve thrown the whole fucking cup.” 

“You did, babe. With terrifying accuracy, might I add.” 

I huff, brushing dried coffee stains off my shirt. 

It’s been hours since the limo incident, but my pulse hasn’t settled. 

I felt him. 

Even through layers of glass and steel- 

He saw me. 

I know he fucking saw me. 

But he still drove away. 

Like I’m nothing. 

Like I never meant anything. 

I gnaw the inside of my cheek, swallowing down the bitterness rising in my throat. 

1/6 

10:25 Tue, 25 Mar 

Chapter 59 

He wants to hide 

Fine. 

Let him 

But I’ll be damned if I let him ham me from the shadows. 

Not anymore 

By the time we finally get back to the spartment, my body feels like it’s been wrong cot and hung to dry. Zoe themes herself onto the couch, scrolling through her phone like her entire existerace depends on whatever trathy posip page the doom scrolling 

Meanwhile. I pace like a caged animal–staring at the coffee–stained photo of that fucking crest spread out on the kitchen 

counter. 

That stupid little emblem has been gnawing at my brain for days. 

It’s not just some crest—I know that now. 

It’s a thread- 

One pull, and the whole goddamn tapestry of my life is about to unravel. 

My fingers twitch to grab my phone and start digging, but Kallias’s warning keeps ringing in the back of my skull. 

“Be careful where you start poking, little wolf” 

I should listen. 

But curiosity has always been my fatal flaw. 

I’m my mother’s daughter, after all. 

Before I can stop myself, I grab my notepad from the counter and flip to the page where I sketched the crest last night. My hand moves like muscle memory–drawing out the sharp lines and interwoven patterns again and again, until the symbol stares back at me like it’s been carved into my fucking DNA. 

I don’t know how I know this- 

I just know- 

I’ve seen this symbol before. 

Not in a book. 

Not in some dusty archive. 

In my father’s hands. 

A cold rush prickles down my spine. 

I blink, clutching the pen tighter as fragments of an old memory claw to the surface. 

My father kneeling before me–his rough hands pressing something into my palm- 

“Never forget where you come from… and never let them find you.” 

2/6 

96%8 

Chapter 59 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

My heart jackknifes against my ribs. 

I stumble back from the counter, clutching the necklace around my throat like it might somehow anchor me to the present. 

My lungs can’t seem to expand fast enough. 

I know what this crest is 

I’ve always known. 

It’s the Imperial Pack’s sigil. 

The same bloodline that ruled the Lycans for centuries- 

The same bloodline that was slaughtered in one night. 

The same bloodline Enoch was born into. 

The same bloodline I might be tied to too. 

Holy fucking shit. 

I stagger back, knocking into the table hard enough to rattle the empty wine glasses from last night. My head spins–pulse hammering in my ears like a war drum. 

This whole time… 

I’ve been digging into my parents‘ deaths- 

Into the Riverstone Pack- 

Into the Alpha King’s return- 

And I didn’t even realize… 

I’ve been digging into my own bloodline. 

“Taryn?” 

Zoe’s voice breaks through the panic attack clawing at my throat. 

I barely hear her over the static rushing in my ears. 

“T-” 

“Shh!” I snap, my heart in my fucking throat. 

Something’s wrong. 

The air feels… off. 

Too still. 

Too heavy. 

3/6 

+45 

Chapter 59 

Like someone’s watching. 

I whip toward the window–half–expecting to see a pair of glowing eyes staring back at me from across the street. But there’s nothing there–just the flicker of neon signs and the low buzz of the city below. 

Paranoia is a bitch. 

But I’ve learned to trust it by now. 

Slowly, I inch toward the window, fingers curling around the curtain- 

That’s when I see him. 

A shadow–perched on the rooftop across the street. 

Still. 

Silent. 

Watching. 

A sick chill slithers down my spine, locking me in place. 

He’s not a wolf. 

I can feel that much. 

His scent doesn’t reach me–masked by distance or magic or whatever the fuck these bastards use to stay invisible. 

But he’s there. 

Waiting. 

Tracking. 

They’ve found me. 

The realization slams into me like a bullet between the eyes. 

I jerk away from the window, heart jackhammering against my ribs. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Okay- 

Okay- 

Think, Sinclair. 

They haven’t made a move yet. 

That means they’re watching. 

Waiting. 

4/6 

Chapter S 

For what?