King Novel novel Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I can still hear the sickening squelch of flesh tearing apart, the image of Enoch’s blood–covered hand pulling at the rogue’s throat replaying on a loop in my mind. My hands won’t stop trembling

The rogue’s body is gone now, dragged away by park warriors who looked just as disturbed as I feel

Kallias stormed off after barking orders, but I couldn’t care less about him. My focus is on the man–no, the thing–that’s still standing in front of me.

Enoch

He’s holding one of my shirts, using it as a napkin to wipe the blood off his hands. My clean laundry. The one chore 1 actually had under control today.

He doesn’t look bothered. In fact, he looks like he just discovered a fun new game.

His green eyes flick to me, and he tilts his head slightly, the way a dog does when it doesn’t understand why you’re upset.

He leans his head forward, eyes hopeful like a golden retriever waiting for a treat.

“Pat,” he says softly. “Good?”

1 blink, my brain short–circuiting. The guy is covered in gore, smiling like he just won a prize, and now he wants a freaking head pat?

“Enoch,” I start, my voice shaking as I push myself up on my elbows. “You just-” I stop, because I don’t even know where to begin. Murdered a rogue? Saved me? Traumatized me?

His smile falters when I don’t respond, and my chest tightens at the slight droop in his shoulders.

“You’re asking if that was good?”

He nods again, smiling like he’s waiting for a gold star.

The sight of that smile–the same one he wore when he tore out the rogue’s throat–makes my stomach churn. I step back, my foot slipping on the wet grass, and 1 fall hard on my ass.

Of course, I do,

Enoch crouches down in front of me, his massive frame somehow looking both intimidating and harmless at the same time. His green eyes lock onto mine, and his smile falters when he sees the tears I didn’t realize were streaming down my face.

“Bad?” he asks, his brows knitting together in confusion.

I shake my head, unable to form words,

He reaches out, his blood–streaked fingers hovering near my face before pulling back, not sure if he’s allowed to touch me.

“Sorry,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

That one word breaks something inside me.

I let out a shaky laugh, though it sounds more like a sob. “You’re sorry?” I say, my voice trembling. “You just… you killed at wolf with your bare hands, and you’re sorry?”

He nods again, his expression earnest.

1/5

Chapter 7

Idon’t know whether to scream or hve him

Oh, for fuck’uotr.

“Okay, okay.” I mutter, reaching out hesitantly. My hard hovers over his head and huhulish Ba

I swear he bis

Finally, I give in, placing my palm lightly on his hair til jeton ne getting killed ble my were barely

inne me I meble,

audible.

His entire face lights up like I just handed him the moon.

“Good,” he echoes, leaning into my touch. His hair is surprisingly soft despite the ordered as his temple and 1 have to fight the urge to jerk my hand away

This is weird

Beyond weird. But it’s also not the worst feeling in the world?

No. Nope. Not going there.

“Alright, that’s enough,” I say quickly, pulling my hand back. I scoot away from him, trying to put some distance between us, but he follows, crawling forward on his knees like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he doesn’t ing

“Stay,” he pleads.

I freeze, my stomach twisting, “I’m not going anywhere,” I say softly. “But you–I gesture vaguely at the blood smearing his arms and chest. You need to clean up. Like, now.”

Enoch doesn’t seem to notice–or care. He’s focused entirely on me, like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

Whispers ripple behind us like ripples in a pond.

Everyone’s talking, but none of them know the truth. The Omegas who stumbled upon the aftermath have already convinced themselves it was Kallias who killed the rogue.

“That rogue’s dead?”

“Kallias must’ve done it. He’s so strong–so cool.”

I want to roll my eyes, but I don’t even have the energy. Of course, they’d assume it was Kallias.

Sure, because he wasn’t the one elbow–deep in blood and guts Enoch pulled out from that corpse.

Kallias finally shakes himself out of his daze, barking orders at the pack warriors behind him.

“Make sure to investigate the body.”

He voices out more orders and the warriors snap to action, dragging the rogue’s mangled corpse toward the treeline. The sight makes my stomach churn again, but I can’t look away.

I’m still sitting on the ground, my legs too wobbly to trust, when Kallias turns to me. There’s something almost human in his eyes–concern, maybe,

But then that would be impossible. It’s Kallias, after all.

“Taryn-” he starts, but he doesn’t get any further.

Enoch moves before Kallias can take another step toward me. He’s a blur of muscle and blood, standing up in front of me as though some kind of shield.

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Chapter 7

“Mine,” Enoch says quietly–steady but full of warning.

Kallias stops dead, his jaw tightening.

“What do you mean mine? Move,” Kallias snaps, “I need to check on my mate”

But Enoch doesn’t move. His eyes narrow, his shoulders squaring as he stands to his full height.

I’ve never seen Kallias hesitate before, but now he does. His gaze flicks between me and Enoch, frustration tightening his

features.

“You” Kallias wasn’t able to continue his words as Enoch steps forward.

Not just steps–blocks. His massive frame cuts Kallias off entirely, and then all of a sudden, without so much as a warning. Enoch turns back to me, scooping me up like I weigh nothing.

“What the hell?” I yelp, squirming in his arms. “Put me down!”

Enoch doesn’t even blink. “Taryn is scared.”

I freeze, staring up at him. His face is blank, but his eyes are focused on mine, trying to figure out if he did the right thing.

“I’m not scared,” I lie, my voice quieter now,

He tilts his head, totally unconvinced.

I sigh, giving up the fight. “Fine. But I can walk, you know.”

“You are safe,” he mutters, as if that’s explanation enough, and starts walking toward the pack house.

The murmurs grow louder as we pass, every pair of eyes glued to us. I can feel my face heating up, but Enoch doesn’t seem to notice–or care. His focus stays entirely on me, his grip firm but not uncomfortable.

When I dare to glance back, Kallas is still standing there, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. His expression is unreadable, but something about the way he looks at me makes my stomach twist.

for it.

Regret? Guilt? Whatever it is, I don’t have time f

Enoch carries me all the way to my room without a single complaint, his silence oddly comforting.

But when we get there, my sense of relief is immediately replaced by horror.

Blood.

Blood.

So much blood.

It’s smeared steps on my floor, on my sheets, on the edges of the doorframe where his hands must have brushed

“Enoch!” I snap, wriggling out of his arms. He sets me down gently, his brows furrowing at my tone. “You’re covered in blood! You’ve ruined my room!”

He looks down at himself, then back at me, tilting his head again like he’s trying to figure out what I’m so upset about.

“Okay, you need to wash up, I say, pointing to the tiny adjoining bathroom

“Wash,” he repeats, his voice soft.

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