King Novel novel Chapter 73

Chapter 73

The moment Enoch steps into the room, the air shifts.

Silence clamps down so hard it’s suffocating. Even Celeste, ever the performer, straightens as if instinct tells her to shrink under his presence. But Enoch doesn’t spare her a glance. His dark eyes sweep the room, landing on me.

There’s no recognition. No warmth. No hesitation.

Just cold, imperial authority.

“Clean it up,” he says flatly, not even directing it at anyone specific.

Celeste twitches like she just got slapped. “Enoch—”

His head tilts, the slow movement an unspoken warning. “Now.”

Damn. It’s as if the man getting beaten by Kallias back in the Riverstone pack has disappeared. This guy is on another level. He’s a king.

The Lycan King.

She swallows. Her face remains poised, but the tension in her jaw betrays her. Slowly, she turns and signals one of her women to fix the mess.

A sick sort of satisfaction curls in my stomach. For months, I imagined this moment–seeing Enoch again, throwing all my anger, pain, and questions at him. But now that he’s here, so close I could reach out and touch him, all I can do is stare at the stranger in front of me.

Because he is a stranger.

This isn’t the man who once pulled me against his chest in the dead of night, whispering secrets he didn’t even understand yet. This isn’t the broken boy I cradled in the forest, patching up his wounds and feeding him soup like some stray.

This is the Lycan King.

And I’m nothing to him.

I lift my chin, refusing to cower. “Always so charming,” I say, forcing my voice to stay even. “I missed that about you.”

A muscle in his jaw ticks, but his expression remains unreadable. Then, without another word, he turns and walks away.

I don’t know what I expect–maybe for him to say something, acknowledge that I’m here–but the dismissal stings sharper than I care to admit. He’s already heading down the hallway when he speaks over his shoulder.

“Come with me.”

I blink. For a moment, I think I imagined it, but no–his voice is firm, commanding.

He doesn’t wait to see if I follow. He just expects me to.

Prick.

བ ེ ེ་ བ

I glance at Celeste, who is staring after him with barely concealed rage. Her hands are curled into fists at her sides. I smile sweetly at her as I pass. “Guess I do belong here after all.”

Then I follow him.

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The walk is silent. The palace corridors stretch endlessly, dark and grand. I reallyy think this place is aklive. There’s only so much the modern renovations have rwached, and they kept its ancient look at some of the most restricted areas.

Like where we’re going right now. Each hallway is flickering with torches and casting long, eerie shadows. His strides are toc long for me to keep up as I stumble around, hitting drawers. He doesn’t look back.

Asshole.

Finally, he stops at a large wooden door and pushes it open, stepping inside. I hesitate. The room beyond is dimly lit, the glow of a fireplace casting golden light across towering bookshelves and dark leather chairs. His study.

exhale and step inside.

The door clicks shut behind me.

For a long moment, neither of us speak. He stands by the desk, arms crossed, head tilted just slightly as though he’s waiting for me to break first.

Not fucking happening.

“You know,” I start, forcing a casual tone, “if you wanted a private moment with me, you could’ve just asked nicely. No need for the silent treatment.”

His lips press together. “You shouldn’t be here.”

I arch a brow. “Funny. The guards let me right in.”

“Because they didn’t know better.”

“Well, they do now.” I lean against the desk, matching his crossed arms. “You gonna throw me out yourself?”

Fucking eat my attitude Enoch. You abandoned me like a whore and I’m not gonna cry about it like a bitch.

A flicker of something–amusement? Frustration?-crosses his face. Then, he exhales sharply and runs a hand down his face. “Taryn.”

And just like that, my bravado cracks.

Because that’s the first time he’s said my name in months.

I bite the inside of my cheek, locking my knees to keep myself from moving toward him. “I go by Miss Sinclair now. More professional.”

His gaze darkens. “You don’t belong here.”

I shrug. “I’m just a journalist. Reporting on the illustrious Imperial Pack, that’s my purpose of being here. Completely innocent.”

“Innocent?” His lips curl. “You’re lying.”

“Oh? So now you do remember me.”

Something shifts in his expression–something dangerous. He steps closer, and I hate how my body reacts. Iate the way my pulse stutters, the way my fingers twitch at my sides.

“You have no idea what you’re stepping into.” His voice is lower now, quieter. More dangerous. “Leave, Sinclair.”

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Chapter 73

I lift my chin. “Make me.”

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His nostrils flare. He takes another step, caging me between him and the desk. The scent of him–smoke, leather, something deeper and more primal–wraps around me like a noose.

If I were smart, I’d back down.

But I never fucking learn.

Instead, I smirk. “What’s wrong, Your Majesty? Afraid I’ll find out your little secrets?”

His jaw clenches. He lifts a hand, and for a split second, I think he’s going to grab me.

He doesn’t.

Instead, his fingers curl into a fist, and he steps back.

A win.

Or maybe not.

Because when he speaks again, his voice is quieter. Colder.

“If you get in my way, Sinclair, I won’t be gentle.”

A chill rakes down my spine, but I don’t let it show. I force a mock gasp. “Oh no. The big bad Lycan King might not be gentle with me.”

He doesn’t take the bait.

His eyes just bore into mine, unreadable and void of the warmth they once had.

This is the part where I back off. The part where I let it go and walk away before I dig a hole too deep.

But I can’t.

Not when there’s something else behind that mask he’s wearing. Something that flickered when I pushed just a little too hard.

Curiosity curls in my gut.

“What is it you don’t want me to know, Enoch? Why did you fucking leave me?”

For the first time, something flickers–hesitation. Regret. But it’s gone in a blink.

His smirk is slow, empty. “It’s not something you should know.”

A challenge.

I lean in, my breath brushing his jaw. “Then neither will I be gentle.”

His eyes darken.

My pulse skitters.

And then-

A sharp knock rattles the door.

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Enoch steps back instantly, mask slipping back into place. “Come in.”

The door swings open, and Jacob stands there, his sharp gaze bouncing between us. His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t

comment.

Instead, he says, “There’s been a breach.”

Enoch’s face hardens. “Where?”

Jacob’s jaw tightens. “North wing.”

Enoch nods once, then turns to me. His expression is unreadable. “Stay here.”

raise a brow. “You really think I’m just going to sit here and-”

He’s already gone.

The door slams behind him, leaving me alone in the flickering firelight.

And despite everything–the anger, the pain, the distance–one thought hammers in my skull.

That wasn’t just a king.

That was my mate.

And something tells me I just stepped into something much bigger than I was ready for.

The palace at night feels like it’s breathing. The air is thick, the corridors dimly lit by sconces, casting flickering shadows along the polished floors. Everything about this place is meant to intimidate, to make anyone who doesn’t belong feel that much smaller. And guess what? I don’t belong. Not even a little.

Celeste is right.

I should be asleep. I should be locked in my ridiculously oversized suite, getting comfortable with the fact that this is my new reality.

But my brain won’t shut up, my body won’t settle, and the second I realized how many locked doors I passed on the way to my room, curiosity latched onto me like a parasite.

I don’t overthink it. I just move.

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Barefoot, I creep through the corridor, following nothing but instinct and the occasional whisper of wind that slips through the cracks of this monstrous castle. It takes me through the east wing, a place no one directed me toward. No guards, no staff -just dead silence and doors older than my entire bloodline.

Then I see it.

A tapestry, larger than life, draped along the stone wall at the end of the hall. It’s thick and velvet, depicting some grand battle with wolves and Lycans, but the bottom edge is slightly curled. Like someone forgot to pin it down properly.

I move closer, pulse spiking.

The second I brush the fabric aside, I see the outline of a door.

Hidden.