King Novel novel Chapter 46

Chapter 46

Chapter 46

TARYN

Pain is a funny thing.

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You’d think after years of enduring it, you’d grow numb. That eventually, your body would stop responding to it, that the nerves would just call it quits. But no, pain is a stubborn bitch. It latches on, digs its claws in, makes itself at home.

I think I’ve been here for hours. Maybe days. The darkness makes time feel like a living, breathing thing, shifting and stretching until it’s meaningless.

Every inch of me is screaming. My wrists are raw, the skin split open where the rough restraints have rubbed them down to nearly nothing.

Blood has dried, crusting over the wounds, but every small movement sends a fresh ripple of agony up my arms.

My shoulders ache from being yanked back for too long, the unnatural angle straining muscles that have already been through too much.

The cold stone beneath me does nothing to soothe the bruises mottling my skin. If anything, it makes it worse. The damp chill has settled deep into my bones, a cruel reminder that I am well and truly trapped.

The scent of blood is thick in the air, metallic and nauseating. Some of it is mine. Some of it… isn’t. I don’t have the luxury of looking to confirm.

My vision swims in and out, black spots dotting my periphery, like my body is one wrong breath away from shutting down completely.

I try to move, to shift even a little, but my limbs refuse to cooperate. It’s like they’ve already given up before I have.

I swallow back the dryness in my throat, but it doesn’t help. My mouth is pasty, my tongue heavy like cotton in my mouth. I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Minutes. Hours. Days. Time stopped making sense after the first hit.

I squeeze my eyes shut. My ribs ache with every shallow breath.

I don’t know how much more I can take.

And worse–no one’s coming.

Seraphina. I thought she would help. I thought she would tell someone, that she’d be my one slim fucking chance of getting out of here. But that hope is dead, and its corpse rots inside me.

Because I know the truth.

No one is coming.

My lips tremble, but I bite down hard to stop it. I won’t cry. Not again.

The thought is short–lived. Even in my half–conscious state, I know better. Seraphina? Helping me? She’d sooner swallow glass.

The only thing that’s coming for me is more pain, and that’s if they decide I’m still worth the effort.

I choke out a laugh, but it’s dry, hollow. Useless. Like me.

No one’s coming.

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Chapter 46

That reality sinks in, wrapping its icy fingers around my throat. My chest tightens, breath hitching, but I don’t have the energy to panic. It takes effort to be afraid, and I don’t have any left.

I don’t even flinch when the sound reaches me.

That growl.

I know it.

A new kind of terror prickles at my skin, chasing the cold away. My heart thunders against my ribs as my body fights to keep up with the sudden burst of adrenaline.

It hurts. Fuck, it hurts. But I push myself up, or at least, I try. My muscles scream, my limbs sluggish, but I manage to roll onto my side, blinking against the dizziness.

Then-

The door explodes.

Not opens. Not breaks. Fucking explodes.

Wood shatters, splinters flying like deadly shrapnel, embedding into the walls. The force shakes the entire room, dust and debris choking the air, momentarily clouding my vision.

And through the chaos–through the destruction–he stands.

Enoch.

And for the first time since waking up in this hell, I don’t feel like I’m going to die here.

His chest heaves, his breath coming in ragged, animalistic snarls. His eyes burn through the dust, dark and furious, locked onto me like I’m the only thing that fucking matters.

His hair is wild, his face twisted into something primal, dangerous. He looks… wrong. Not because he’s hurt–though he is, streaks of blood painting his skin–but because he looks like something not entirely human.

And his gaze.

It’s not the lost, confused stare of a man with no memories.

It’s something else.

Something ancient.

Something deadly.

My body should be screaming at me to run. To get away. But all I feel is a deep, gut–wrenching relief so sharp it cuts me

open.

He came for me.

For the first time since they dragged me down here, I let out a broken, shaking breath.

“Enoch.”

He doesn’t answer. Just steps forward, his body coiled so tight I swear the air crackles around him. The growl is still in his throat, a rolling, guttural warning meant for whoever dared touch what’s his.

I don’t even have time to process what that means before he moves.

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05:54 Mon, 24 Mar

Chapter 46

Fast.

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One second, he’s across the room. The next, he’s crouched in front of me, his large hands cupping my face with a gentleness that doesn’t match the destruction he just left in his wake. His touch burns, radiating heat, stark against my freezing skin.

He looks at me. Really looks at me. His fingers ghost over my cheek, down my throat, hesitating at my torn wrists. Something dark flickers in his gaze, his jaw clenching so hard I hear his teeth grind.

“Who?” His voice is raw, Guttural. Barely more than a snarl.

I shake my head. My throat is too dry for words, my body too weak.

His breathing turns ragged. His hands tremble against my skin. And then, just as suddenly, he yanks me forward, his warmth swallowing me whole as he pulls me into his chest.

I don’t fight it.

1 collapse into him.

His scent surrounds me–woodsmoke, earth, something dark and uniquely him. It’s grounding. It’s safe. It’s the only thing tethering me to this moment, stopping the darkness from swallowing me whole.

“1-“My voice cracks. “I thought-”

He cuts me off with a low, rumbling sound deep in his chest.

“Mine.”

It’s not a question. Not a statement, either. It’s a claim. A promise. A fucking war cry.

And I-

I let him hold me.

For now.

Because whatever storm he’s about to bring down on this place-

I want to watch it burn.

Our cuddling didn’t take long.

“Shit! someone’s here!” The men steps out of the back door, they all stiffen when they see Enoch. “It’s him! The Alpha King! G–get him!” They refer to the man… The one I’m sure knows Enoch.

One of them mutters something under his breath–probably a prayer–before he lunges for a weapon and the other leaves.

That’s his first mistake.

Enoch moves faster than my eyes can track. One second, he’s across the room. The next, he’s tearing into them.

“Agh!”

The sound–God–the sound of flesh being ripped open, of bones snapping like dry twigs, is drowned out by the screams. One man barely has time to react before Enoch is on him, claws slicing through his throat in one clean motion. Blood sprays, hot and sticky, splattering across the concrete floor like a grotesque painting.

Another one tries to run. Enoch catches him mid–step, grabbing the back of his head and slamming it into the steel table so hard the surface dents. He doesn’t stop. He keeps smashing–again and again–until there’s nothing left but a mangled,

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05:54 Mon, 24 Mar CICA

Chapter 46

unrecognizable mess.

Holy shit.

I can’t breathe. I can’t even fucking move.

This isn’t just revenge. This isn’t just a rescue

This is a massacre.

Enoch is ruthless, methodical in the way he carves through them like they’re nothing but cattle. He does betase Dress flinch. His body is a weapon, his hands covered in blood as he rips, tears, daughters.

I don’t know how long it lasts–seconds, minutes? Time has lost meaning,

When the last man falls, gurgling on his own blood, the warehouse finally goes dern

And then, Enoch turns to me.

His chest rises and falls in deep, heavy breaths. Blood drips from his hands, his forearms, staining the once gale shirt he’s wearing. His golden eyes flicker, warring between something inhuman and something devastatingly broken