Chapter 13 - Zander

It took more than a week for Zander to convince Layla that it was the right thing to do. At first, he himself had been unsure about it. The words said in the heat of the moment had shocked them both, but there was no denying their connection.

At every twist and turn, Layla was there, and Zander's urge to protect her was almost maddening. Even a bird flying too low overhead left his hackles raised and fangs bared. But with the life growing inside of her, it made far more sense to Zander. He wasn't just protective of her. He was protective of their child, too.

Our child, he thought with an odd sense of happiness he had never felt before as he awaited his bride beside the full moon bonfire.

A month—that was all it had taken to go from practically enemies to betrothed, expecting their first child. It was insane to Zander, and clearly to the rest of his friends, for they had teased him enough on the matter. Kane had reminded him over and over how much he hated Layla's guts, and Jack had made comment on how he never expected they'd be raising children together, especially when Zander hated kids.

The fact was, Zander didn't hate kids, he just didn't entirely trust that he wouldn't hurt them. Babies were so small and vulnerable. He preferred to leave them to the women. And besides, cooing over children wasn't exactly the manliest of things to be doing.

Will's jokes were the hardest to stomach. Whenever he joked that if only he had gotten there first, he might be the one getting married, it made Zander's insides twist with the desire to claw out his friend's heart. It was an odd feeling to have for someone whose friendship meant so much to him, and yet he knew it was something he would have to get used to.

He had seen what the mating bond had done to Jack and Bonnie. Their love for each other was pure and true. He only hoped that he and Layla could be half the couple they were. So far, her stubbornness to admit the truth and enter into marriage in the first place didn't leave him with much hope.

"Are you sure about this?" Eddie asked, clapping him on the shoulder. Zander jumped. He had been so busy awaiting his bride, wondering whether maybe this was all a little too fast, that he hadn't heard him approaching from the woods where he had been doing a final check of the border before the ceremony.

The last thing they needed during a wedding was for a rival pack to come and cause trouble.

Zander straightened up, clasped his hands before him and sucked in a deep breath before nodding. "It's fate."

He prepared himself for the teasing that was sure to follow. Big, burly army men discussing things like fate was definitely laughable. And yet, Eddie seemed the only one not to tease him for it.

"I'm almost jealous," Eddie said, squeezing his shoulder again before he slipped away to take his place among the others.

Zander got the sense that Eddie was, indeed, jealous. He had seen the way he watched Jack and Bonnie and their children, the way he acted as if he were the favorite uncle, and he knew that one day his friend would be the perfect father. He only hoped he could be half as perfect as Eddie would be.

As if he mistook Zander's expression for nerves at the wedding, Jack approached to take his place to perform the ceremony and whispered, "It's too late to turn back now."

And when he inclined his head down the aisle that was little more than an empty space between two congregations of standing werewolves strewn with white rose petals catching the silver moonlight, Zander's stomach almost bottomed out.

There, at the far end of the aisle, was Layla, arm in arm with Darwin, who had offered to be the one to stand in for her late father.

A mixture of emotions ran through Zander as he saw the two of them. He was awed by her beauty, her strawberry-blonde hair turned silver by the moon, cascading down over her simple silken gown that flowed like water off her shoulders and narrowed only at the waist, like a Greek goddess's gown. Her eyes sparked with feeling, not all of which he could read, and that left him nervous.

Just seeing her with Darwin made Zander realize something. He had spent the last week trying to convince her to marry him because they were fated, yet he barely knew anything about her. He had no idea how she had come to be so alone in the world that her only option to walk her down the aisle had been a distant cousin.

He was going to have his work cut out for him in order to learn about her. Even now that she had agreed to marry him, she seemed to have kept her distance.

Though he desired her even more than ever, they hadn't slept together since that very first time, and it was almost all he could think about as she walked toward him to the howling of all their pack. The emotional song of their packmates was enough to bring a tear to his eye, and he quickly wiped it away as she came to stand before him.

The ceremony was a small and intimate affair with Jack presiding over the entire thing before they went about their celebrating around the full moon bonfire.

And Zander found he was enjoying every moment, save for the fact that Layla did not appear to be the joyous bride he might have hoped for.

She sat beside him at the head table Jack had erected for the special wedding feast, leaning back in her chair with her hand on her stomach and a sullen look on her face as all manner of celebration went on around her.

"Are you still struggling with morning sickness?" Zander asked, breaking the silence when he could no longer stand it. He had hoped that her finally agreeing to marry him meant she had accepted him as her fated mate, that she would finally allow him in, yet she remained the same stubborn she-wolf that had made his blood boil when he first met her.

Still, his hopes for the future made him determined not to be the same man he had been when first they met. He remembered Jack's advice even to this day. For her, he was going to be better.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "It's passed."

"Are you tired, then?"

Layla shook her head and continued to stare out at the merriment before them.

"Would you like to dance?" Zander asked, holding out his hand.

"Zander, we don't have to pretend as if this is what either of us wanted," Layla said through gritted teeth. "Not all fated mates get along."

Her words cut him to the bone, and yet they only made him more determined.

He leaned over and whispered in her ear, "I will not allow you to be miserable. Not on our wedding day."

He felt her shiver, heard her breath escape her, and he knew that his own breath upon her neck had the desired effect.

Pulling away, he saw the need in her gaze before he forced his eyes from hers and looked again at the dancing in front of them.

"You know, you should be happy. You might have been stuck with Eddie," Zander said, flicking his index finger in the direction of Eddie, who was dancing in the most absurd manner. His friend had never been very good at dancing, though the women close by seemed to be having fun laughing at him.

Layla followed his gaze and pursed her lips as if she were determined not to laugh. It only made Zander try harder.

"Do you think Hanson will ever get the hint that Penny doesn't like him like that?" Zander asked, seeing the way Hanson leaned over the table to talk to the attractive she-wolf across the way.

"Sometimes, especially now that Karl is gone, he's too nice," Layla said, shrugging.

Zander scoffed. "I didn't realize there was any such thing as being too nice."

At that, Layla did laugh. "I can tell."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Zander demanded, taken aback.

"It means you don't have to pander to me just because I'm carrying your child," Layla said. She rubbed her stomach as if protecting the little life growing inside her.

Zander growled low in his throat and leaned in to whisper in her ear, "I can be less nice, if you want me to be."

Again, he felt her quiver, and this time she leaned against him. Zander's stomach twisted, and he knew that this might well be the most receptive she had been to him since that night.

He kissed her delicately on the neck. "I can be whatever you want me to be, wife."

Layla's hand snaked up to cup his face and she drew his lips to hers. He might have been wrong, but this felt like as good a time as any to whisper, "By the way, I shall be moving my stuff out of the manor tomorrow."

Layla pulled back then, her eyes widening. They had been so close to kissing it pained him. Yet he couldn't stop from smiling when he saw the horror playing out on her face. "Moving it where?"

He smirked, already sure of the kind of rise he was going to get out of her. For one second, he was the old Zander as he tormented her by replying, "Your place."