King Novel novel Chapter 69

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Chapter 69

Chapter 69

As the day he lost me…

Right. He did lost me.

My mistake is pausing as I stare at him. Just for a second. Just enough to catch my breath, to feel the warmth of his hands on me before I remember exactly where I am. Who I am.

Shit.

The music stops.

Silence.

For a fleeting moment, I wasn’t a nobody. I was the woman wrapped in the King’s arms, with every eye in the room pinned on us like we were a goddamn fairy tale.

I need to leave. Now,

A thick, pressing quiet, shattered only by the rapid clicks of cameras and the murmurs slithering between the guests. A scandal is unraveling in real–time, and I’m standing right in the center of it.

My heartbeat pounds in my ears. I can’t afford another trouble. I’m on strike two on Liam’s list, I’ll be fired for another one.

I try to step back. His grip tightens.

I swallow hard, my throat burning like I just downed a shot of acid. “Enoch.”

His name feels foreign on my tongue, forbidden after years of avoiding it. Like saying it too many times might make it real.

His jaw clenches, the muscle twitching like he’s at war with himself. “Stay.”

The word punches straight through me, through the layers of this gorgeous dress.

And I almost do.

But the spell breaks when a reporter shouts, “Who is she?!”

That brief hesitation–the scrape of his thumb over my wrist, the unspoken resistance–uncoils something deep in my gut. But I rip myself away, breath hitching, forcing myself to move.

Now. Now, Now.

Run.

“Taryn-”

I don’t look back. I can’t.

If I look back, I’ll hesitate. If I hesitate, I’ll stay.

I can’t stay.

My heels hit the marble floor with sharp clicks, each step reverberating through the grand ballroom like a gunshot. The moment our dance ended, silence swallowed the room, only for it to be devoured by a frenzy of whispers, the murmurs slithering through the air, tightening around my throat like a noose.

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ས ཱཿ82

Chapter 69

Who is she?

Why did the King dance with her?

Who the fuck is that woman?

I don’t stick around long enough to hear the rest. My heart slams against my ribs, a deafening cadence in my ears as I shove past people, the weight of countless eyes burning into my back. The air feels thick, suffocating, and the last thing I want is to be cornered by the hungry, sharp–toothed press ready to rip me apart for breathing the same air as their untouchable King. My lungs protest as I reach the grand staircase, a monstrosity of white marble and gold, stretching down farther than I remember. Of course, this place is excessive even when you’re trying to flee unnoticed. I grasp the hem of my gown, my fingers trembling as I lift it slightly to keep from tripping and faceplanting my way into tomorrow’s headlines.

I risk a glance back.

Enoch is still standing in the middle of the ballroom, a statue carved from shadow and steel, unmoving except for his piercing, predatory, locked onto me with an intensity that should set me ablaze.

His jaw ticks, his hands curl into fists at his sides, and for a split second, something flickers in his gaze. Recognition. Possession.

Mine.

The thought slams into me like a sledgehammer, and I nearly miss a step. No. No, don’t look at me right now, idiot! Then he smirks. The bastard smirks, playing with me. Goddess, the media will see! Look away!

My thoughts is in haywire as crimson tints my cheeks.

eyes-

Panic coils tight in my stomach, and I push harder, descending the staircase as fast as I can without breaking my goddamn neck. The second I make it outside, the cool night air rushes to meet me, a cold slap of reality against my flushed skin.

I don’t slow down.

I don’t know where I’m running, only that I need to disappear before anyone figures out-

“Taryn.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

I whip around, still moving, and nearly slam into Jacob, who’s leaning against a carriage like he had nowhere better to be than waiting outside the grandest ball of the year. He looks me up and down, unimpressed, arms crossed over his broad chest.

“You’re running. Why are you running?”

I don’t have time for this.

His gaze sweeps over me, unimpressed. “You look like you’ve been caught doing something illegal.”

“Not yet,” I snap. “Change me back. Now.“~

He blinks. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb,” I seethe. “Make me unnoticeable. Before someone comes out here looking for me.”

Jacob exhales sharply, reaching into the carriage and tossing me a bundle of fabric. “Presto.”

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Chapter 69

I shake it out. My old dress. The same stained, wrinkled thing I arrived in, the one that screams I don’t belong here.

I stare at him. “Are you serious?”

“You said to change you back.” He shrugs, entirely too pleased with himself. “No specifics.”

I mutter a curse and yank the gown over my head, my movements frantic. The silky midnight fabric of my disguise crumples at my feet, forgotten. The second I’m back in my own clothes, I feel the weight on my chest ease–slightly.

Jacob surveys me with a critical eye, then nods. “Yeah. No one’s looking twice at you now.”

“Thanks, asshole.”

Anytime.”

I don’t bother with a reply. The last thing I need is for someone to realize the King’s mystery woman just made a fucking Cinderella exit. I take off, slipping into the growing crowd of guests leaving the ball. No one spares me a second glance. Perfect.

Inside, I can still hear the murmurs, the speculation, the desperate attempts to find the mystery of the woman who stole the King’s attention. The thought makes my stomach churn. I shove it down and keep moving.