I Bought A Male Escort, Turns Out He's The Lycan King novel Chapter 65

**Leaves Falling Like Promises**
**By Amara Grant**
**Chapter 65**

**KAT**

An unsettling sensation clawed at my chest, a sharp pain that felt like a vice tightening around my heart. It jolted me awake, and I shot up in bed, the room swirling around me, pulsating in sync with my racing heartbeat. My vision played tricks, blurring and sharpening in a disorienting dance. I could hear the faint whispers echoing through the house, the kind of murmurs that shouldn’t have reached my ears, and the eerie stillness that enveloped the outside world felt like a warning. And the scents… they were all wrong.

With unsteady legs, I stumbled out of bed, desperate to find the bathroom. I tried to move quietly, but the floor creaked under my weight as I yanked open the cabinet. My fingers wrapped around the familiar bottle of vitamins I had stashed away, and without a second thought, I popped two pills into my mouth, swallowing hard.

Six pills in one day, when just one a week had sufficed before this madness began.

I gripped the sink tightly, staring into the mirror as my reflection flickered in and out of focus. Once the world around me settled, I sank down to the floor, my body trembling as I pulled my knees to my chest, trying to find solace in the smallness of my frame.

Yet, an insistent nagging sensation gnawed at me. My hand instinctively moved to the dressing on my neck, and I couldn’t shake the thought that something was terribly wrong. Surely, I couldn’t be that unfortunate.

When I finally mustered the strength to stand again, I approached the mirror for another look. My complexion was ghostly pale, and the contacts felt like sandpaper against my eyes, a stark reminder of how often I’d neglected to take them out while Hunter was around. With deliberate care, I peeled them away, blinking furiously until the gritty sensation faded. My eyes remained the same brilliant blue, but they seemed to glow unnaturally, almost predatory.

I lifted my hand, cautiously peeling back an edge of the dressing.

A sharp intake of breath caught in my throat as I beheld the sight beneath. The wound had healed astonishingly fast, leaving only a small scab and the faint outline of teeth marks. Panic surged through me, and I hastily pressed the dressing back down, stepping away from the mirror as if it were a portal to my darkest fears. I had been trying to ignore this all day, but it was becoming increasingly impossible.

The ache in my chest persisted, a constant reminder that sleep was a distant hope. The knowledge that my enemy was lurking somewhere nearby had made drifting off nearly impossible. Dawn was creeping in, so I shrugged on a cardigan over my tank top and shorts, slipping into the hallway, drawn by the murmurs emanating from the kitchen.

As I reached the doorway, I froze at the sight before me. Mal and Mr. Rivers were huddled close at the kitchen island, their voices low and urgent, eyes glued to the flickering television screen.

Mal had been tight-lipped about why he’d allowed that man into the car, whisking him away to the cabin without a word of explanation. I had been sent to my room with the promise that he would clarify everything in the morning. Yet here they were, still awake hours later, their shared intensity revealing a bond I couldn’t quite comprehend.

“You’ve got to tell her,” Mr. Rivers urged, his tone laced with urgency.

“Not with that going on,” Mal whispered, gesturing towards the screen. “It’s pointless.”

Curiosity tugged at me, and my gaze drifted to the broadcast. A wave of nausea washed over me as I recognized the man’s face staring back at me. My stomach twisted at the unsettling familiarity of his gaze, even through the screen.

I gasped, the sound escaping my lips before I could stop it. Both men turned to me, surprise flickering across their faces, but I knew Mr. Rivers must have heard me the moment I woke. Ignoring their startled looks, I focused on the caption scrolling below.

“Breaking News: Serial killer caught after five years.”

Panic surged through me, a tidal wave of fear. He had been following me. He knew where I lived, where I worked out. Had I been the intended target? Had Shelly lost her life in my place?

My limbs felt like jelly as I pulled a stool out next to Mal, my eyes glued to the screen. The reporter announced the man’s name: Elijah. A Lycan. Was that why Mr. Rivers had insisted I ask Hunter about him?

I turned to look at Hunter, who was studying my face with a seriousness I had never seen before.

“Is that who you were protecting me from?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

He nodded, his gaze shifting back to the screen.

Mr. Rivers was a wolf. The thought struck me like a bolt of lightning. How could he possibly protect me from a Lycan? It was a reckless gamble, risking his life for mine. I was left grappling with the complexities of my feelings towards him.

“Why was he following me?” I pressed, needing answers.

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