Chapter 10 - Layla

That was odd. Layla couldn't understand where the gentle, caring, even protective Zander had come from. But she knew one thing—her wolf had reacted in the most surprising way of all.

Though she had been dead set against whatever game he was playing, her wolf had lapped it all up. And what the beast had decided, Layla didn't like one bit.

He can't be…

It was impossible. What her wolf was suggesting couldn't be. She and Zander loathed each other. Being forever connected to someone like that would drive Layla insane.

Her ex had been bad enough. He had played these games, acting all kind and sweet to get what he wanted, but it ended the same way every time, with cursed words and bruises.

Zander has never hit me, Layla reminded herself as she tried her hardest to sleep.

It couldn't have been more than half an hour since Zander took himself over to his makeshift bed on the floor, but Layla had tossed and turned the entire time. And every time she turned in his direction, she couldn't help but stare at him and watch the way his body moved up and down as he breathed.

From the sound of it, he was long asleep, and that only infuriated Layla more. How could he sleep after the confrontation they'd just had?

Stop it, Layla, don't lose any more sleep over a man! She snapped at herself. She had done that one too many nights already.

She forced her eyes closed, slipped her hand beneath her head under the pillow in an attempt to make it a little more comfortable, and tried to force herself into sleep.

That's when it happened.

The pounding on the door made Layla almost jump right out of her skin. She sat bolt upright in bed, heart hammering in her chest.

A glance sideways told her she was alone. Shit! Where is Zander?

Her knee was still throbbing. She had nowhere to run. She wasn't even sure she could properly defend herself with such a banged-up leg.

But she had little choice but to clamber, naked, to her feet when the door caved in, practically bursting right off its hinges.

Layla recognized the man who came flying over the threshold all too well.

"Christian!" she exclaimed as he rushed at her, his hands outstretched.

Bile rose in Layla's throat as her ex gripped hold of her by the face and turned her gaze up to his. "Here you are, Layla, I've been so damn worried about you!"

Before she could stop him, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. A confusion of emotions ran through Layla. She hated her ex, but the smell of him was like home. It was almost comforting.

That was, until his hands dropped from her face to her upper arms and his claws started to dig into her flesh. He shook her aggressively as he demanded, "How dare you worry me like that? Where have you been?"

Layla tried to pull away, but Christian's hands were like vices on her arms. He held her there fast, and she knew from past experience there was no escape.

When his nostrils flared and he started to scent her, she knew she was done for.

"Where is he?" Christian demanded. "Where is he? Don't try and lie to me. I can smell him on you!"

That's when his hands moved from her arms to her throat.

This was worse than ever before. In all the years they had been together before he had left Nightstar, he had accused her multiple times of cheating, but never in their relationship had she actually been caught with another man.

Sure, Zander had only saved her life. They hadn't actually done anything, even if she had imagined the naughtiest of things. But Christian wasn't a level-headed man. He wouldn't listen to reason. He wouldn't believe her, even if she could get a single word past his hands around her throat.

"Where is he, Layla? I'll rip him apart!"

Layla opened her mouth to try and scream but nothing came. His hands choked tighter.

"I'm right here, fucker!"

Zander appeared out of the darkness behind Christian and punched him clean across the back of his skull.

Layla sucked in a breath the moment that his hands were gone from her throat. And that's when she started to scream, "No, Christian! Don't! Don't hurt him! Nothing happened."

But Christian had already turned on Zander. The two locked eyes and Layla"s stomach twisted. The look in their eyes said that neither of them would stop until one of them was dead.

"No!" Layla screamed as Christian flung himself at Zander. Shifting in midair, he caught him by the throat, and Zander's eyes flew wide with alarm.

It would all be over soon. Layla watched helplessly, screaming at the top of her lungs as she watched the light fade from her mate's eyes.

"Layla! Layla! Wake up!"

The shaking sensation on her shoulders wasn't nearly so alarming as her dream, but instinctively, she sat bolt upright, fighting the arms of whoever was holding her.

"Let go of me! Get off me!" she cried out, her dream still all too real in her mind. What if she hadn't dreamt it? What if she had blacked out at the sight of Zander dying and now Christian had come to claim her once more?

No, she couldn't be trapped by him again. She lashed out, claws extended.

"Fuck!" the voice that growled out as the man on the edge of the bed retreated away from her most definitely wasn't Christian's. "Jesus, woman!"

Shit! Layla cursed silently, gripping the edges of the bed as she realized what she had done.

Zander stood before her, hand clutched to his face, blood dripping between his fingers where she had clawed him.

She flew to her feet and grabbed his hand to pull it back and take a look. "Fuck, Zander, I'm so sorry."

At that, he smirked. It was an odd thing to do, considering he was bleeding.

"What's so funny?" she demanded, taking a step back.

"I never imagined I'd ever hear an apology from the lips of Layla Keely."

The way he said her full name made her shiver. It wasn't at all an awful sensation. In fact, it was quite the opposite. But it left her feeling uneasy.

Realizing she was standing entirely butt naked before him, she wrapped her arms around herself.

In true gentleman form once more, Zander leaned down and grabbed the blanket from the bed to hang around her shoulders and cover her up.

Why is he being so kind to me all of a sudden? Layla wondered, her insides still shivering. What if he was just another Christian?

"Are you alright?" Zander asked, stepping away as if he sensed she needed space.

"I think I should be the one asking you that," Layla said, pointing at his face.

Zander shrugged and shook his head, wiping the blood from his hand on his shorts. "It's just a scratch. It'll be healed in a few minutes. You were screaming in your sleep."

Layla's face grew hot, and she guessed it was almost as red as his bloodied one.

"I…umm…I guess I was having a bad dream."

"You think," Zander scoffed, cocking a brow at her. "What about?"

Layla shook her head. "I don't remember."

There was no way in hell she was going to open that can of worms.

Zander looked unsatisfied, and she half-expected him to demand she tell him. Instead, he gestured to her leg. "Well, it looks like you're all healed up."

Layla glanced down and stretched her leg. It no longer hurt. Slipping it out from beneath the blanket, she saw the bruising was gone.

"I guess so," she shrugged, almost disappointed, knowing what it meant even before Zander spoke.

"You should get washed up and then we'll be on our way," he said, gesturing toward the bathroom. Layla noticed the way he averted his gaze from her bare leg as if it made him uncomfortable.

Maybe she wasn't the only one having inappropriate thoughts. A part of her wanted to drop the blanket again to see if he might act upon it.

She imagined doing so, letting the blanket fall slowly, caressing her body on the way down. His hands would feel even better as they covered the areas of her flesh she had revealed to him.

She breathed a slow and frustrated exhale, gripping the blanket a little tighter around herself. She was frightened to see where it might lead if she allowed herself to follow through on such thoughts.

"Maybe we should just go?" she suggested, biting the inside of her lip. The longer they remained, the greater chance there was for her to do something she might regret.

Zander shook his head and turned toward the door. "Shower. You still stink of the enemy."

The way his nose wrinkled made Layla's insides tie in painful knots, but he glanced back over his shoulder with what she was sure was a longing glaze in his eye.

Before she could say a word, he unlocked the door and gripped the handle. "I'm going to give the area a quick scout while you freshen up, make absolutely sure the coast is clear. I don't want you running on that knee if we can help it."

His concern for her touched her all over again, and she pursed her lips to keep from commenting on it. Zander seemed like the type to clam up if she did.

"Hurry up," he growled at her when she made no move toward the bathroom. "I don't want to spend a minute longer here than necessary, and we need to get home and report this. The pack is likely worried sick by now."

"About you, maybe," Layla grumbled.

Zander turned on her then, an angry glower plastered on his face. He looked about ready to tear her a new one for saying such a thing, but then he grabbed the door handle, yanked it open and was gone, leaving Layla standing there more flustered than ever.

"Bye then!" she grumbled after him, turning to storm into the bathroom. She winced as she realized her knee was healed, but definitely still tender.

In a huff, she entered the bathroom, unable to believe how easily Zander had gotten under her skin. He was infuriating, annoying, and damn, he smelled good.

The smell of him lingered in the bathroom, and Layla realized he must have been in there before she had started screaming in her sleep.

Flicking on the shower, she hoped the water might wash away some of his scent, but dropping her blanket on the floor only seemed to make it worse. The scent of him wafted so powerfully into her nostrils that she almost turned the shower off again and headed to find him.

No, if she did that, he would tell her off for not washing, and they'd end up in an argument again. There was no telling where that might lead.

And so, she stepped into the shower, the hot water almost scalding her skin.

Soon the steam was caressing her, so thick she could barely see her hand in front of her face. Grabbing the bottle of soap she had restocked a while back, she started to lather up.

That's when she heard the door click open. Her heart raced, but she didn't freak out. She smelled him immediately. It was intoxicating.

The sound of his shorts hitting the floor made her quiver. And when he slipped in behind her, wrapping his arms around her to cup her breasts, she breathed a sigh of relief.

It felt good to be touched, oh so good. She leaned back against him, enjoying the feel of his large, muscular body pressed against her back.

When his face came down to nuzzle the side of her neck, kissing and nibbling at her throat, she quivered.

"Layla! Are you done in there?" Zander yelled suddenly from the next room, banging on the bathroom door.

"Shit!" Layla exclaimed as she slipped backwards, leaning against nothing but empty air.

Her back hit the tiled wall of the shower painfully and she gasped as the air was knocked out of her.

"Layla, what's going on in there? Are you alright?" Zander called again and the sound of the rattling doorknob told her she'd at least apparently had the good sense to lock the door.

"I'm fine! Don't come in!" she yelled back at him, feeling utterly embarrassed at the fact she had been daydreaming about him again.

He had gotten under her skin far more than she realized.

"Hurry up!" he yelled. "It's clear, but it might not stay that way."

"I'll be out in a second."

Hurrying to wash off the soap, she gave her hair a quick rinse and grabbed a towel from the cabinet nearby.

Leaving the shower running, she looked at herself in the mirror, wiping away the condensation so that she could look herself in the eye and say, "Get a grip!"

Then, after giving her teeth a quick brush with the spare toothbrush she left in the cabin, noticing Zander had opened a new one from under the sink, she finally turned off the shower and headed back into the other room.

"Get dressed," Zander ordered practically the second she appeared. "We don't have much time. Those guys could be out there still."

Or maybe they found my bag and what they were looking for, she thought, not daring to say the words out loud.

She crossed the room and grabbed some of her old clothes from the trunk.

"Wouldn't we be quicker in wolf form?" she suggested as she yanked on an oversized t-shirt and some shorts. She had failed to leave any shoes the last time she stayed, so her bare feet would have to do.

"Yes, but after your injury, I wouldn't like you using so much energy on a shift. Besides, you'll be easier to carry in human form," Zander responded. Layla gulped. He wasn't even looking at her. In fact, he hadn't looked at her since she came out of the bathroom. How was he supposed to carry her if he couldn't look at her?

What was that all about, anyway? Was he just being a gentleman again or was it something else?

"Who said anything about carrying?" Layla blurted, her cheeks hot.

What she could see of his face grew about as red as hers felt.

"I just meant if it comes to it," he snapped, apparently not liking the sense of embarrassment. "Let's get going."

Layla was all too happy to obey that order. She followed Zander from the cabin, her nose turned to the air to scent for their enemy. If they were attacked again, she didn't want to be caught unaware. She had been shown up in front of him one too many times already.

Luckily for her, it appeared Zander was right. The coast was clear, and for much of the way back to town, they were both silent, their bare feet barely making a sound as they walked. The tension between them was palpable. It left Layla restless and irritated, especially when at every fallen tree Zander offered his hand to help her over or brushed back thick undergrowth for her to walk through, ever the gentleman.

They were just within the borders of Nightstar when Layla realized she couldn't handle it anymore. The change in him, practically overnight, was too great, and she was fed up with waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Enough," she snapped, stopping dead in her tracks. She closed her eyes, tightened her hands into fists at her sides and demanded, "What the hell is going on?"

Zander stopped a little further on, and she felt him looking at her. Yet she couldn't open her eyes to meet his gaze, fearing what she might see.

"What do you mean?" he asked in a tone so confused it only riled her more.

She opened her eyes to glower at him, then, and wished she hadn't the moment she saw the concern in his gaze.

"Layla, are you alright?" he asked, closing the distance between them.

Layla snatched her hand out of the way when he made as if to touch her. She couldn't bear it. Was this another of her daydreams?

"No, I am not alright!" Layla snapped again, pinching herself discreetly on the leg. It hurt and she blinked, opening her eyes to find he was still looking at her with concern. She wasn't daydreaming.

Instinctively, she slammed her palms into his chest to shove him away. "You don't get to be concerned about me. Not after everything you've put me through!"

Zander barely stumbled backwards, almost immovable, though he did gape at her with an incredulous expression.

"What I have put you through?" he stared at her. "What about what you have put me through?"

Layla bit the inside of her lip. "I didn't ask you to come to my rescue."

"Like I said before, you'd be dead if I hadn't," Zander said, cocking his brow. She hated it when he looked at her like that. It was an arrogant yet handsome expression that did all kinds of things to her insides—things she struggled to ignore.

"Don't look at me like that, Zander Mallox!" she hissed. "Fuck! I hate it when you look at me like that!"

"Like what?" Zander asked, closing the distance between them again as he intensified the look. There was a challenging glint in his eye that made her shiver.

She slammed her palms into his chest again, but this time he appeared prepared. He grabbed her hands and pinned them to him, locking her forearms into place.

"Don't you know better than to lay hands on your beta?" he growled at her. His gaze trailed from her eyes down to her lips and lingered there, making Layla's heart race.

He wouldn't dare! She thought, almost disappointed when he didn't kiss her.

She wanted to pinch herself again to be sure she hadn't fallen into a daydream, but her hands were stuck fast in his grip.

Instead, she bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted just a little blood. This was no daydream, she was sure of that, and it only made her heartbeat even more erratic.

"What are you going to do about it?" she growled through gritted teeth.

That's when the unspeakable happened.

His hands released hers only seconds before he gripped hold of her face and planted his lips upon hers.

Melting into him, into the kiss, her arms dropped to her sides just long enough for her to pinch herself again.

Still, she wasn't dreaming or daydreaming. She was very much wide awake, and as Zander's tongue possessively slipped into her mouth, she lost herself to his kiss, realizing her anger was gone, but her frustration remained. She wanted him. She needed him. And she would be damned if she didn't have him.