I Bought A Male Escort, Turns Out He's The Lycan King (by lg savage) novel Chapter 12

**Leaves Falling Like Promises**
**By Amara Grant**
**Chapter 12**

**HUNTER**

Damn it.

What on earth just happened?

My inner beast roared with frustration, straining against the confines of my control as I fought my way through the throngs of people outside her apartment. I could feel the grip on my sanity slipping away.

How could a mere human wield such power over me?

I pushed past bodies, my damp hair clinging to my forehead, clothes plastered to my skin like a second layer. I cursed the day I had crossed paths with that cunning enchantress. My reputation for maintaining a firm hold on my beast was well-known throughout the kingdom, yet here I was, teetering on the brink of transformation in a crowd of unsuspecting humans.

How dare she toy with me?

This was my game to control. Moving in had been my strategic move, my calculated plan. I had caught her in her first blunder—the vacant apartment she had just taken residence in, devoid of any traces of her past, no breadcrumbs left behind. Yet, somehow, I had allowed her to invade my thoughts and emotions.

The cacophony of traffic screeched like metal being torn apart, and I could hear the faintest breaths of those around me. The headlights of passing cars blinded me, disorienting my senses. Scents I had long since mastered assaulted me—perfume, sweat, exhaust fumes, the mingling scents of humans and wolves.

What the hell was happening?

A half-hour later, I slammed the door of my hotel room shut and leaned against it, my chest rising and falling rapidly. The water from my shower had evaporated, but I was now drenched in perspiration. My heart raced as if I had just sprinted a marathon.

Damn that woman.

I clawed at my clothes, stumbling deeper into the room until I collapsed onto the couch. The fabric still held her scent, and I snarled in frustration, launching myself off the couch and hitting the rug with a thud.

They were aware of my identity. They knew I was hunting them. Yet, they had the audacity to strike at me? To bring my beast to heel as if it were nothing more than a common animal? What kind of twisted game was this?

Rolling onto my back, I focused on regulating my breathing, attempting to calm the raging storm within. No matter how strongly my beast urged me, I would not return to that apartment tonight. I refused to allow her to witness me in this state. I needed a strategy.

As my heart began to slow, and my beast settled, the sounds of the city dulled to a more manageable hum. I glanced out the window, noting the sun beginning to rise. Kitty had robbed me of an entire night’s sleep.

Clenching my jaw, I pushed myself off the floor and retrieved my phone from the discarded suit lying nearby.

“Sir?” Elijah’s voice came through on the first ring, sounding as if he had been awake for hours, alert and ready, without a hint of questioning my early call.

“I won’t be coming in today. Please send me the footage from Friday and reach out to the girl’s family again. There has to be another connection, something beyond their youth as college wolves.”

“Yes, sir.”

The Bureau had been on the trail of this killer for years, but it had turned personal the moment I realized he was playing games with me. Each murder felt like a message etched into my very being.

How could Kitty allow herself to be manipulated by someone like that?

After a quick shower, I packed a bag. It was still early, and I had several hours to observe Kitty before I returned to her apartment. I needed to know everyone she interacted with, everyone she smiled at, everyone she brushed shoulders with. I couldn’t afford to overlook anyone.

I slipped into a pair of jeans, a simple T-shirt, and a baseball cap before making my way to the Bureau’s security room. Their records were limited, but they confirmed that she was indeed Watson’s prodigy.

Kathrine Munroe. Paralegal. Twenty-one years old. Second-year law student. Limited security clearance—and I would ensure it remained that way.

“Pull up the legal department cameras,” I commanded, turning my attention to the array of screens, then sending a message: ‘Monitor Kathrine Munroe in the legal department.’

Who had orchestrated this to keep her so close to me?

Should I have consulted Elijah? I dismissed the thought immediately. They would be watching him as well.

On the screen, Kitty emerged from the elevator, clad in another alluring suit and heels that accentuated her figure. A man walked beside her, and I could see her bright smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement even from a distance. The man smiled back, and my fists clenched instinctively before I forced them to relax.

I was not jealous. I could have her whenever I wished. I needed to keep my focus on the task at hand.

By the end of the day, I had compiled a list of names. Potential victims or suspects? I would determine that if I stayed close to Kathrine. I left the Bureau before she did and hailed a cab to her apartment. I barely leaned against the wall outside when I saw her stepping out of another taxi.

“Did you wait long?” she asked, hurrying up the steps, her expression flustered.

“No, I just got here.”

Our eyes locked for a brief moment, and I noticed her cheeks flush before she quickly averted her gaze. Was this the same woman who had boldly demanded a night with me?

“I don’t require much.”

I didn’t plan on staying long, especially after what had transpired the previous night.

She flicked on the lights as we entered her apartment and turned to face me.

“We’ll order something and talk after dinner,” she said. “You can shower first if you’d like.”

Her message was unmistakable. She wasn’t going to let me touch her again until she established her rules.

“Sure,” I replied, heading toward the bedroom. Then I paused, a teasing smile creeping onto my face. “Since you brought me here last night, I’ve been meaning to ask—there’s only one bed. Will you require my services every night, Kitty?”

Her cheeks turned a deep shade of crimson, and she looked away, fiddling nervously with the straps of her bag.

“I’ll order something tomorrow,” she said hastily.

“What a pity. I was rather looking forward to that.”

I noticed the color deepen in her cheeks as I walked toward the bedroom. If I didn’t know any better, I might have believed her innocent act.

As I closed the bedroom door behind me, I could hear her moving around the apartment, her heels clicking softly against the tiles, and the gentle hum of her voice as she placed an order for food. I dropped my bag on the floor and surveyed the room, just as I had done the night before before I succumbed to her invitation to shower together.

Shopping bags were strewn about, and a pile of clothes lay haphazardly next to them. Either she was juggling two lives or simply didn’t care for tidiness.

Keeping my ears attuned to her movements, I cautiously opened her closet. There weren’t many clothes hanging, but something caught my eye—a helmet and riding gear.

Her footsteps approached the bedroom, and I quickly shut the closet door and slipped into the ensuite. My fists clenched as I leaned against the door, frustration boiling within me. I hadn’t found much at the crime scenes—no DNA, no blood.

But always, there were motorcycle tracks.

And now, this woman, the one who had the power to ensnare me and unsettle my beast, possessed riding gear in her closet.

My beast stirred to life, a low growl rumbling deep within me. My enemy was near. I had unwittingly stepped straight into his lair.