Chapter 12 - Layla

Being stuck in Nightstar as Jack had insisted made it exceedingly difficult to avoid Zander as she had intended to.

Everywhere she turned, he was there—in the grocery store, the bar, the I, at the park. Whether he intended for it to be that way or not, Layla wasn't sure, but the more he made excuses that it was mere coincidence, the less she believed him.

And then there was the possessiveness. It was subtle at first, so much so that she barely noticed it.

It had started with him jumping in at the grocery store before the clerk could pick up her bag to hand it to her.

"Let me carry this for you," Zander had offered, and Layla had just barely noticed the warning look Zander had given the man behind the counter.

"I can carry my own groceries," Layla had insisted and yanked the bag from him. Her own warning glare told him to leave her alone. He hadn't followed as she headed back home, but she had felt his eyes on her all the way out of the shop. Her insides had been in turmoil, waiting for him to say something taunting as he would have done back before they mated. But those days seemed to be gone.

The old Zander had been replaced by this new and improved Zander, the one jumping in to carry her shopping and hold open doors for her, offering to walk her home from the bar late at night with a protective look in his eye.

And Layla wasn't sure whether she wanted to fight him or fuck him for it. He was infuriating, even more so now than he had been before, and yet her wolf clawed at her insides to just be with him. Every time he was close, she felt herself torn between tearing off his claws or ripping him a new one.

His protectiveness when it came to attention from other wolves was bad enough, but she found he was even worse when it came to the humans in town.

Poor Jason had approached her two days after her return to town, asking if she had thought any more about his offer to take her on a date. Zander had appeared practically out of nowhere, looming like a giant, angry storm cloud, glowering at Jason until he had gotten the hint and scurried off like a frightened mouse.

Layla was most angry with him for that. Humans—the general population, at least—were pretty harmless. She actually kind of liked Jason, and she had been considering accepting his offer. What harm would a date do?

But that was before all of this with Zander. Now, the thought of dating or fucking anyone else made her feel physically sick. And even that made her furious with him.

She had hoped that just one fuck would get whatever the hell this was out of her system—and his—but it appeared that wasn't the case.

She had to physically be on her guard for what felt like twenty-four-seven to stop her wolf from luring her into his warm embrace. And it felt like everywhere she turned, he was testing her, protecting her, obsessed with her.

It wasn't even as if she could really blame him, but she did anyway. She needed somebody to blame. If he had just let her handle everything herself that night, none of this would have happened. At least, that was what she told herself.

She refused to believe the centuries-old tales of fated mates and how it was impossible to deny such a connection. There was no way she was going to be connected to an asshole like Zander Mallox for her entire life.

When she started to feel unwell almost two weeks after her return to town, Layla was almost relieved. Being forced to stay home and rest because her body was making her was far better than being cooped up in town because the alpha had commanded it.

Besides, Zander at least hadn't turned up on her doorstep trying to make up some excuse about how he had been passing by and needed to borrow something or that Jack had asked him to come and check on her.

Maybe being ill for a while wouldn't be such a bad thing. It was likely all the stress she had been under, anyway.

Her body was exhausted. She felt it in every limb like a lead weight dragging her down. All she wanted to do was sleep, and whenever she wasn't sleeping, she felt sick to her stomach, queasily hungry yet unable to stand the sight of food. Her stomach was cramping and her back ached. Whatever this damn illness was, it made her head spin.

And just when she thought it couldn't get any worse, she started to throw up. The first day it happened, she hoped that her body was finally removing whatever was making her sick. She was almost certain of it when she actually started to feel better again.

When it happened again the next day, her fears started to grow. What if…she couldn't bring herself to think about it, and so she forced the thought away.

It just wasn't possible.

But on the third day when she puked her guts up for the third time only to feel remarkably better afterwards, she decided enough was enough.

She'd had enough scares during her relationship with Christian to know it was always best to be prepared, and so, with a shaking hand, she pulled out a pregnancy test and her pee cup from under the bathroom sink.

She was shaking so badly by the time she'd managed to pee that she almost spilled the entire cup, just trying to place it on the counter so she could stick the test into it.

"Get a grip, Layla," she told herself out loud, holding the test in one hand and holding that hand with her other to steady it as she dipped it in the urine.

Then, she dropped down onto the floor next to the toilet. For once, she was starting to feel sick again after having thrown up. Maybe she really was just ill?

Putting a timer on her phone, she placed it and the test on the floor beside her before hanging her head in the toilet. Whether it made her feel better or worse, she wasn't sure, but she didn't dare to move.

Even when the timer went off, she could barely bring herself to sit up straight. Holding her breath, she did so, glancing down at the test for only a second before she screwed her eyes shut.

It was too late. She had already seen it. The two pink lines that blazed on the test told her everything she needed to know. Maybe it was wrong, but she doubted it. She had never had a positive in her life.

Picking up the test, her hands shaking even worse than they had been before, she looked at the test properly. Maybe she had been seeing things?

She wasn't. And she started to sob. So much for not being connected to Zander Mallox for the rest of her life.

This can't be happening! she cried, the test clutched in her hands as she rested her head on her knees. She had been trapped by the Nightstar pack for years, only finding freedom in her messenger duties, and now those had been taken away from her and she was trapped all over again.

She had been a fool. She never should have slept with Zander thinking it could be a one-and-done thing. All the stories that had seemed so far-fetched and untrue now made more sense than ever. But if they were meant to be, why did she feel so damn messed up?

Just when she felt as if she were starting to regain a grip on her emotions, the doorbell sounded.

Her heart skipped a beat. She had been so lost in her own problems she hadn't sensed whoever was at the door. Ordinarily, she would have sensed them the moment they placed foot on the shingle path that led up to her door. It was the reason she had shingled in the first place.

Why couldn't she seem to catch a break?

Forcing herself to her feet, she shoved the pregnancy test back into the box and onto the counter before making her way to the stairs.

She was barely at the top before the hammering of fists started to pound on the door. Stopping dead in her tracks, she listened, trying to sense who was on the other side. It was hard to decipher the heartbeat or the breathing from the pounding of fists until she heard his voice.

"Layla! Open up! I know you're in there," Zander yelled. "I need to know you're alright."

Layla flinched. The concern in his voice was terrifying. Had something happened? Was Nightstar under attack?

A flashback to being pinned down by that hideous black wolf shot through her mind, and she hurried down the stairs toward the door.

"Zander? What is it? What's happened?" she asked as she opened it.

She was startled when he practically fell through the door as if he had been leaning on it in an attempt to get inside. No sooner had he done so than he grabbed Layla, kicking the door shut with his foot as he looked her up and down.

"What's happened? What's the matter?" he demanded, looking deep in her eyes as if she hadn't just been the one to ask him those very things.

"You're the one who came barging in here like a bull!" Layla snapped back at him, shoving him away. His closeness was too much. The warmth of his body pressed against her own was too inviting.

She stepped away down the hall and crossed her arms over her chest to stop from reaching for him. The fluttering in her stomach was no longer just her desire for him. It was something else, the life beating within her, and she pursed her lips to keep from imparting the knowledge on him.

Zander ran his fingers through his dark blonde hair, looking more than a little flustered. He paced from side to side, the small hall giving him little room to do so.

When he stopped, he loomed over Layla once more, though this time, he didn't try to touch her.

"My wolf went crazy. I just knew something was wrong. I had to get here to be sure you were okay. Are you okay?" he blurted the words as if he had no control over them, and Layla noticed just how pale he was. His eyes were wide with terror.

"I-I'm okay," Layla said, though it was most definitely a lie. She couldn't have been further from okay. She would much prefer to be facing down those two enemy wolves again than this.

"You're not," Zander protested, and he closed the distance between them, just barely gripping hold of her forearms. "Something is wrong. No, not wrong, different."

The way he corrected himself made Layla quiver. Her heart stopped and she held her breath. The way Zander's nose flared, how he breathed in deeply as if drawing the scent of her into his lungs, made her more than a little nervous.

"You smell different," he said, his gaze darkening. He furrowed his brow, looking down at her with his grip tightening on her forearms. "What has happened, Layla?"

He ground the words out as if through gritted teeth. A shiver ran down the length of Layla's spine. She opened her mouth to speak, unsure what to say, but before she could get a word out, he tensed.

The knowing look in his eyes terrified Layla almost as much as the growl that erupted from his throat. "You're pregnant."

The heat drained from Layla's body, first from her face and arms and then from everywhere else, seeping into the ground with the quickest of shivers like nothing she had ever felt before.

She gulped hard past the sudden lump in her throat and again attempted to speak. But she couldn't find the words. Instead, she nodded.

She saw the emotions that rushed through him, felt them as if they were her own, and in a way they were. They were intertwined in a way she had never been with anyone before. She could practically feel his heart beating in her chest.

But when he next spoke, nothing could ever have prepared her for what he said.

"Marry me?"