Chapter 7 - Zander

Nightstar was a small town, and that was one of the reasons Zander and his other packmates had chosen it to make their home, but today, it felt too small. He could feel the eyes of almost every member of the pack on him as he went about his business.

Those who had not witnessed his and Layla's confrontation for themselves had clearly heard about it through the grapevine. Old Mrs. Locke at the general store was even brave enough to make comment as he tried to pay for the bottle of water and mints he'd only purchased as an excuse to get off the street for a little while.

"When will you young"uns realize life is too short to play hard to get?" she muttered, clucking her tongue against her teeth as she rang him up at the counter.

"Excuse me?" Zander blurted. She was the first to have actually said anything to his face, and he couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he might have imagined it.

The way the elderly she-wolf looked at him from beneath her hooded eyes said she had entirely meant to speak her mind.

"You'll learn one day," she commented without explanation. Shaking her head, she added, "I only hope it"s not too late."

"Uh…thanks."

Zander awkwardly took his bottle and mints and the slightly cryptic advice. Mrs. Locke was the eldest wolf in town. Nobody seemed to know just how old she was, but by the looks of her, she had to be well into her hundreds. Living to that age afforded her respect even when she was offering unwanted commentary about his business.

"Take care, dear," she croaked after him as he left. "And once again, thank you."

Those final words warmed his heart even if she had annoyed him a little. Each time he went in, she thanked him for having liberated Nightstar from their previous alpha. He had given up long ago trying to pass off the credit to Jack. The entirety of the old pack was grateful to all its new members. It had left them something of celebrities in town. Yet another reason Zander couldn't understand Layla's attitude towards him. Most of the she-wolves in town were still throwing themselves at him and his original packmates, but not Layla.

"You're welcome, again, Mrs. Locke," he said, offering a wave as he left the store. Maybe it was time to head back to the manor. Everything seemed quiet in town save for the looks he was getting. What he'd expected to find on his walk, he didn't know, but he and the others had remained on high alert since taking over, even if they didn't let on to the rest of the pack.

Their black ops training had made them wary over the years. And he had hoped a quick patrol about town would clear his mind.

It hadn't.

And so he began the trek back up the hill to the manor, swigging from the bottle of water he'd purchased from Mrs. L and chewing on mints until his tongue was sore.

No sooner had he walked into the manor yard than Eddie appeared in the doorway. Throwing his arms wide, he chuckled, "Well, if it isn't the man of the hour."

Zander bared his teeth and growled angrily. It appeared even his friends weren't about to give him a break.

He dashed his empty water bottle at Eddie and snapped, "Fuck off, would you?"

"What's the matter, heartthrob? Can't handle being rejected?" Eddie taunted, and Zander stopped dead in his tracks.

"I did not get rejected!" he blurted, his cheeks growing red-hot. He had responded too quickly, too emotionally. He saw it in the way Eddie's lips twitched upwards with laughter.

"Sounds like you hit a nerve, Ed," Will yelled from somewhere in the house.

Zander's hands tightened into fists. Nowhere was free of taunting and prying eyes today.

"At least I got some kind of action last night," Zander taunted back. "Proves how little the two of you got, if I'm all you've got to talk about."

"Actually, my date just left," Eddie shrugged his shoulders.

"And mine!" Kane said, appearing around the door frame with the most infuriating grin on his face.

"Mine's coming back after work," Will called from inside again.

"Good for you all!" Zander growled, and with that he turned and started off into the woods. If he couldn't get any peace in town, he'd have to find it elsewhere.

"Zand, come back! There's no need to be so touchy!" Eddie yelled after him.

"Yeah, we're only playing!" Kane added. Zander could feel them watching him and he knew if he stayed it would be a matter of minutes before they started tormenting again.

"I'm going for a run!" he yelled over his shoulder, stripping his clothes off one by one and leaving them strewn behind him. "Do not follow me!"

The final words were an order, and though he was only beta, he knew they'd listen.

He would run until he could run no more if he had to. He just needed to be alone for a while. And so, he shifted.

By the time he stopped again, Zander realized he was well outside the boundaries of the territory. Distantly, he remembered having crossed the scent markers at least fifteen minutes earlier.

He should probably head back. The sky was beginning to burn crimson, the sun going down for the night.

Nightstar was a safer place than before, but there was still no telling what lurked outside the boundaries of the town.

There had been a couple of reports from messengers on their travels that strange wolves had been scented closer to town than usual.

It was best not to get caught out alone so far from home.

Layla will be alone tonight, he thought grimly as he remembered Jack telling him she had volunteered to take a message to Pine Valley just that morning. He wondered if she had decided to stay the night or was on her way home.

No matter what he did or where he was, he couldn't seem to get the annoying little minx off his mind. And the thought of her being out there alone wasn't helping much.

He was just considering returning to the manor when he heard it. The sound of snarling set his fangs on edge.

He lifted his nose and scented the air.

At first, he could smell nothing but the woods, the rodents and the fresh air. Then it hit him. That intoxicatingly infuriating scent that plagued his dreams and lingered in his nostrils every time he was near her.

Layla!

So she hadn't stayed in Pine Valley. And she wasn't alone.

By the sounds coming from the direction of their scents, whoever Layla was with, they weren't having a good time of it.

When he heard her yelp, Zander didn't stop to think. Suddenly, what she had said at the bonfire didn't matter. The humiliation she had caused him to suffer was nothing compared to pack loyalty. And the other scents he could smell most definitely weren't pack scents.

He charged forward on high alert, only skidding to a halt in the shadows at the edge of the clearing to assess the danger he was about to face.

There, pinned to the ground by a huge black wolf, was Layla. He would have recognized that red-gold pelt anywhere. Slender, athletic and glossy-furred, her wolf was practically a prized wolf-dog pet in comparison to the two mean-looking motherfuckers she was attempting to fight off.

The one that circled around her as the other pinned her down, jaws dripping saliva over her slender neck, looked as if he was aiming to tear a lump of flesh for himself.

Layla whimpered, though the determination that blazed in her forest-green eyes suggested that she was going to fight to the last.

In that moment, Zander wasn't sure she had ever looked more beautiful.

All thought of the night before forgotten, Zander assessed the situation in the blink of an eye and burst into action, flinging himself at the wolf who had her pinned while the other had his back to him.

The whimpers of surprise that erupted from both Layla's attackers gave him a surge of adrenaline as he and the black wolf hit the ground and rolled over and over, locked by tooth and claw.

Claws scored along his flank, and he howled in pain as the second attacker grabbed at his tail. Fangs met the tip for a second before he managed to yank it free.

The pain seared up his spine but only made him fight harder. Smashing his head into the head of the first wolf to disorient him, he turned on the second, snarling angrily. Seeing his own fur sprouting from his opponent's jaws, he threw back his head and howled just seconds before charging once more.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Layla cowering where they had left her at the center of the clearing, her face a clear mask of distress and concern. For once, her expression didn't piss him off. In fact, quite the opposite. It riled him up further to meet the two wolves who came to stand together against him.

Lashing out with a forepaw, he struck first the one and then the other, giving him only a moment to place himself between them and Layla before they attacked again.

When he felt fangs meet the tip of his tail again, they were gentle. Layla tugged on him, urging him away from the fight.

He didn't listen. He had never fled a fight in his life, and he wasn't about to start now, not in front of her. She would never let him live it down if he did.

Again, the two enemy wolves began to circle. They appeared less confident now as Zander glared back at them, moving backward to stand over Layla's much smaller wolf. If they wanted her, they were going to have to tear him apart first.

And he would sure as hell like to see them try.

Come on then, you cowards! He thought, even as he growled a warning. They would only get to her now over his dead body. She might have been an annoying pain in the ass she-wolf, but she belonged to his pack, and that meant she belonged to him.

When the two wolves attacked again, Zander didn't give them a chance to get a single blow in. He met them blow for blow, knocking away claws and smashing at open jaws with the brunt of his head, battering them both back with skill and sheer brute force where necessary.

It was only as he started to tire that he began to worry. These guys weren't giving up. No matter how much blood he drew, no matter how many times he bit at them and clawed their faces, they just kept coming.

And when he heard the howls in the distance, dread filled him fit to bursting.

Those weren't the familiar sounds of his packmates. They weren't even the howls of the newer packmates that he had begun to recognize as his own.

The wolves that were coming were enemies. And he and Layla were viciously outnumbered. If he didn't do something fast, they were both done for.

Howling for help now would only alert the enemy wolves to their presence and draw them in even faster.

No, their only hope was to do what he had always promised he would never do. They had to run.

Having disoriented their current two attackers enough for a brief respite, Zander stepped away from Layla and dropped his head to nuzzle her to her feet. Encouraging her up, he shoved her in the direction of the edge of the clearing.

And when the shock finally appeared to subside and the seriousness of the situation started to sink in, Layla began to run.

Zander kept up with her, nose to tail, never stopping to look back.

And they ran on and on, leaving their enemies far behind, though he could still hear them in the distance, the howls remaining ever-present in his ears as they were hunted down like a pair of rats.

When Layla stumbled and tripped before him, making it almost impossible to avoid trampling her, Zander knew they were done for.

Exhausted, her wolf sank away, leaving behind a naked and panting human Layla trembling in the leaf mulch.

The energy of his own wolf sapped, Zander shifted too. Maybe the adrenaline spike that came with it would give him a much-needed boost.

"What happened?" he hissed under his breath as he came to crouch over Layla.

"I…I twisted my knee," Layla grumbled back, rubbing her bare knee. Zander tried his hardest not to be distracted by her nakedness.

This was no time for admiring her, even if her skin was as smooth and pale as cream.

"Not just now. Back there," Zander demanded, inclining his head back the way they came.

"They chased me all the way from Pine Valley. Whoever they are, they think I had something important on me."

Her every word was tinged by pain, and glancing down, Zander could see why. Her knee was already beginning to swell.

"Can you walk?" he asked. Layla's response was to try to stand.

Fuck! Zander thought silently when she sank back down with a cry.

"I'm sorry, I can't," she whimpered, shaking her head when she saw the grim expression on his face. "We need help."

Zander scoffed. He didn't need to be told that.

Standing, he prepared to howl for his pack. It was only then he realized the dangerous mistake he had made.

"What? What is it?" Layla asked as if she had sensed the realization on him.

"We're too far from town," Zander pointed out. In his desperation to get her out of the clearing and to safety, he had urged her in the wrong direction. It was a rookie mistake, one he hadn't made since training, and one that might well get them both killed.

Their enemies were growing closer with every second they wasted trying to figure out what to do.

If he called for help now, he'd only alert their enemies to their exact location. And with how far out they were and the direction the wind was blowing, there was no guarantee that Jack and the others would even hear him.

They were on their own.

Turning, he dropped back down onto the ground beside Layla and said, "Put your arms around me."

Layla scowled at him. "I'm naked."

"And? Would you rather me feel your naked breasts on my chest or have us both ripped apart by hell knows how many wolves?" he growled at her, holding out his arms.

"Breasts?" Layla grumbled, clearly delirious with pain if she didn't understand the gravity of the situation.

Without waiting for her to make a decision, Zander scooped her up into his arms and growled, "You're a messenger. You must know this place like the back of your hand. Is there anywhere we can hide out and lay low around here?"

The growing howling appeared to strike fear into her heart, and she wrapped her arms around him, pressing those very lovely breasts against his chest as she glanced around in an attempt to recognize where they were.

"That way!" she said, inclining her head in the opposite direction from town. "There's an old outpost cabin some of us messengers still use to rest overnight if we need to."

A cabin sounded better than nothing, so Zander darted off with her in his arms, trying his hardest not to think too hard of either their nakedness or the fact they had never been this up close and personal before.

It was only when they reached the dilapidated old cabin that Zander realized Layla had passed out. Her head lolled against his shoulder, and as he hurried up onto the porch of the cabin, he took a single second to admire her.

Unencumbered by consciousness, Layla was beautiful, astonishingly so. And without her usual look of disdain, Zander saw much deeper than he ever had before.

With her warm body still wrapped safely in his arms, he realized something that terrified him. This urge to keep her safe was more than pack loyalty. It was more than duty. It was fate.

Scared by the realization, he tried the door handle of the cabin and barely managed a sigh of relief when it opened.

Their enemies were still close. Though they had grown quiet in their search as he had zigzagged through the woods, going only off the weakening directions Layla had given him before she blacked out, he could sense them still.

He could only hope all the tricks he had learned during his time in the army would be enough to keep them safe. If they were gone long enough, Jack and the others would notice. They would come looking, because they weren't just his friends, they were his brothers in arms. He could only pray they would realize soon enough.

Holding Layla in one arm, he locked the cabin using the deadbolts and chains that decorated the inside of the door before he carried her over to the single cot on the far side of the small room.

The place was dusty beyond imagining. It was clear it hadn't been used in a while. But it might be just what they needed to live. The thick wooden walls would defend against teeth and claws and the windows were shuttered tight.

They were safe for now. At least, Layla was. Zander wasn't so sure that he was. Laying her on the bed, he crouched over her and brushed strawberry-blonde hair from her face.

Just looking at her again, he couldn't deny it. What he had felt out on the porch had been right. She belonged to him as more than packmate to packmate. His soul had connected to hers, and whether she knew it or not, she was his. She was his fated mate, and if he died in this cabin trying to protect her, so be it. He would never leave her side again.