I Bought A Male Escort, Turns Out He's The Lycan King novel Chapter 66

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**Leaves Falling Like Promises**
**By Amara Grant**
**Chapter 66**

**HUNTER**

As I stood by the side of the highway, a sense of exhaustion washed over me like a heavy fog. My contact, Harding, rolled up in his decrepit vehicle, a rust bucket that had seen better days. It was a far cry from the sleek cars I was used to, but in this moment, it was a lifeline. I had little strength left, and Harding was the only person I could rely on, though even that trust felt as delicate as a spider’s web. After everything with Elijah, the idea of trusting someone again sent a chill through my bones.

I slipped into the worn sweats and T-shirt Harding had brought, the fabric clinging to my skin like a second layer. I settled into the backseat, feeling the weight of my body pressing down against the upholstery. Harding started the engine, his eyes flicking to me in the rearview mirror, a silent question hanging in the air.

“Where are we heading?” he asked, his voice steady despite the chaos that had unfolded.

My instincts screamed at me to go to Kitty immediately, to seek solace in her presence. But I was battered, bloodied, and barely able to keep myself upright. There was no way I could navigate the barrier around the cabin in this state. I needed to tie up the loose ends of the case before I could even think about healing.

“My car is parked at the gym. Just send out a notice that there’s an update regarding the serial killer case,” I instructed, my tone clipped.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he replied, a hint of sarcasm lacing his words, but I could tell he understood the gravity of the situation.

The roads had reopened, and the remnants of the chaos had been cleared away. The drive was surprisingly smooth, but the ache in my chest was relentless, a constant reminder of the bond I had severed. It felt akin to tearing off a part of my very being. As I stumbled out of the backseat and retrieved the clothes I had hastily discarded, a realization struck me: I had to keep Elijah’s death under wraps. My uncle would be the first to exploit my vulnerability.

Once I was behind the wheel of my car, I drove slowly back toward the Bureau, each mile feeling like a monumental effort against the fatigue that clung to me like a shroud. But just outside the gate, I had to pull over. A swarm of reporters had gathered at the entrance, their presence overwhelming even at this ungodly hour. How had they gotten here so quickly? Cursing under my breath, I fished my phone out, ready to call my deputy. I didn’t care if he became the face of the case; I just wanted it to be over.

“Send a team to the bottom of the cliff, but keep it discreet,” I ordered, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “Harding will provide you with a file containing all the details, including a witness sketch. Elijah confessed.”

From the sounds in the background, I could tell he was already en route. I shared the location for retrieving Elijah’s body, urgency lacing my every word.

“You’ll need to make the statement. Just tell them we apprehended him, and that more information will come soon.”

After hanging up, I turned my attention to Kitty’s apartment, my feet dragging me toward her door as if they had a will of their own. My body was on the brink of collapse, but I pressed on until I found myself in her bed, enveloped by her familiar scent. I exhaled deeply, a sense of relief washing over me as the burdens of the last five years began to lift, even if just slightly.

I had avenged the fallen, though the satisfaction was bittersweet. I had also sought justice for those still grappling with the aftermath of Elijah’s heinous actions, like April and her family.

When I opened my eyes again, night had settled in, and my phone buzzed incessantly on the floor. My beast was restless, pacing within me, urging me to act. But I couldn’t bring Kitty home in this state; I could still smell Elijah’s blood on my skin.

After a quick shower to wash away the remnants of the day, I opened the closet and chose one of my suits, which hung next to the clothes Kitty had left behind. The fabric felt foreign against my skin, but I needed to look presentable. Once I was dressed, I silenced my phone and stepped out, determination fueling my movements.