11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

J ackson had already sent a message to Diedre, the pack witch, through his Gamma, so the woman was already waiting in the lobby when he walked into the packhouse.

"This isn't right, Jax. You'd have to confine her to her room or the basement because she would know the truth the moment she stepped out of the house," Dylan said as he followed behind him.

He refrained from rolling his eyes. Dylan had been mind-linking variations of that the whole drive home—he was giving him a headache. But he couldn't get mad at his Beta for repeating something he had enforced for years since he had taken the throne.

If they were lucky, it wouldn't take long to get her pregnant and maybe by then, Cain would accept sending her back to the hotel.

"You should have just let her run off. She's going to be a handful—"

"Enough!" he growled.

It was Cain who made that command. Dylan felt it and shut up, but even with that submission, he still had to push his wolf back down to stop him from going after his friend. He had to get his wolf under control, or he wouldn't be able to hide the truth from his pack.

When he opened his eyes, he found Diedre staring right at him. She was the only one in the whole place who could do that without looking away despite knowing who he was.

"You don't look injured to me," Diedre said.

Diedre looked like a human in her mid-twenties, but she had looked the same when he'd been a pup. She kept her hair in a short, trendy cut and usually coloured it with streaks of violet to match her eyes. And she was very short, but in this case, he knew not to judge a book by its cover. Diedre had more power in her little finger than most witches had in their whole bodies.

Which actually pissed him off because if Diedre couldn't fix him, there was no hope. But he had to accept that. It was too late to redeem his soul.

"Not me," he said as he walked through the entrance hall towards the back of the house where he had set up an infirmary. They had a hospital, but most pack members preferred to drop into the packhouse for minor issues.

The front door opened and slammed shut, and then Layla's scent filled the room as if she was marking this place, too, as she had done at the hotel. He hadn't thought of that. He wouldn't be able to escape her scent here. Fuck.

He stopped and turned to look at Layla. Her heartbeat was raised, and she had her back against the door as if blocking it.

"There's something out there," she hissed. "I think it's a wolf."

He didn't miss the pointed look Dylan threw at him.

"Then you'll have to stay inside where it's safe," he said firmly. "Are you coming, or will you bleed all over my floor, too?"

He didn't wait for a response as he turned and continued walking. Seriously, why was she bleeding so much? What kind of idiot threw themselves out of a moving car and intentionally injured themselves? She could have broken something or killed herself. How could he trust such a person to protect his unborn child?

He only had one shot at this. Just one.

Once in the infirmary, he stood by the windows to wait for Layla and Diedre. He could hear Diedre's gentle voice as they came up the hallway, introducing herself and reassuring Layla that everything would be alright. Her voice and words reassured Cain as well. The witch had a way about her; she could usually calm his beast down. Cain had always trusted Diedre, but after that night, after that battle that had changed everything and almost cost him his life, his beast had forged a stronger bond with the witch who had saved them.

He only turned from the windows when he heard Layla sit on the examination table as Diedre instructed. Her back was to him so he could see how much of her blood had stained her t-shirt and how much of it was dripping down into her jeans. His fists clenched as his beast's anger reared its head. He had to force himself to look away.

And when he did, he met the witch's gaze.

She knew.

He could see it in the way hope sparked in her violet gaze before she looked away and pulled out the equipment she needed.

Fuck.

"I'm just going to remove this dressing and see the extent of the damage," Diedre told Layla.

He couldn't help himself; his gaze was drawn back to Layla's wounds as Diedre removed the dressing Dylan had applied earlier on her lower back. Underneath that, the butterfly stitches had pulled open, and the deep cut was bleeding freely. It wouldn't have been bleeding so much if she hadn't slammed against the tree. There was an ugly bruise across her back from the impact and cuts on her hands and arms that hadn't been there before.

Cain howled in his head before he started pushing to come out.

"What happened, dear?" Diedre asked before she injected something near the cut.

Layla flinched briefly before she visibly relaxed. Diedre had human medication when needed, but her healing potions worked better. Layla would be fine by the morning.

"I don't know. I didn't see what cut me," Layla answered.

A sharp piece of rusty metal in the van. It wouldn't have happened if those bastards hadn't taken her.

And just like that, Cain pushed through and growled. He was ready to run back to the city to finish what he started. He wanted to paint the whole town red to avenge his mate and fix all the wrongs done to her.

Until the scent of Layla's fear penetrated his rage and made him retreat.

He turned to look back out the window before Layla could see his eyes. They were blood red with all of his beast's emotions.

"I told you there was something out there," Layla said. "Did you hear that? Do you see it?" He heard her come off the examination table and back away.

"Don't worry. You'll hear that often, but you're perfectly safe inside, Layla," Diedre said. "Let me fix you up so you can go and rest."

Even when Layla did as Diedre told her, he could sense her elevated emotions. He knew she would try to run again the second she got another chance.

‘And I will catch her again,' Cain growled. ‘She's my mate.'

He ignored the wolf because it was pointless arguing about it. They couldn't change their destiny, no matter how pigheaded Cain was about that.

As always, Diedre worked quickly, and when he turned back around to watch her redress the cut, he saw that her bruise was already healing.

"We'll change the dressing tomorrow, but you'll be fine," Diedre said as she helped Layla off the table. "It's waterproof, so you can shower if you want one before you sleep."

"I'll take you to your room," he said gruffly as he walked to the door.

"May I have a word with you after your guest has settled?" Diedre asked.

He looked back at the witch and saw all the questions she had in her eyes. All the hope. If he talked to her, he would get sucked in again. Hope was a very dangerous emotion to have right now. Diedre had to accept that.

"It's been a long day. Maybe tomorrow," he said as he continued out of the room.

Layla followed quietly behind him until they returned to the entry hall, where Dylan talked to Jon. Instead of catching up on any news of things that happened while Jon had been in charge as his Gamma, the two were gossiping about Layla. He could tell, even though they weren't speaking out loud. Jon turned to look at Layla with pure hatred, putting Cain on edge.

He could stop all this bullshit. He could tell them the truth that Layla was his mate, and they had to accept that. But what good would that do when the last thing he wanted to explain was why he couldn't mark her?

Yet he needed to say something. He needed a good enough reason to have brought a human among them and put their whole pack at risk.

‘We'll meet in the morning before training,' he said through their mind link.

He continued up the stairway to the top floor, ignoring Layla's breathlessness as she tried to keep up. He'd asked someone to prepare the room next to his for her; in hindsight, that had been a stupid move. He would never get any rest. A room in the dungeons would have been better.

"You'll find everything you need in this room. Don't leave your room without me. I'll show you around after breakfast," he said as he opened the door.

Layla eyed him warily before she entered the room. She looked around briefly before she turned back to him.

"Why does it feel like I'm a prisoner here?" she asked softly.

"Maybe because you are," he admitted before he closed the door and turned the key.