56. Chapter 56

Chapter 56

J ax pulled the ring from his sock drawer and looked back at Layla's sleeping form.

He'd broken her. He knew that. And yet he couldn't reassure her about anything she had seen because they would kill her the moment she gave birth.

He sighed and walked over to the bed. She hadn't undressed, so he could still smell a hint of the rogue's blood on her clothes. The witch would pay for doing this to her. He would find her, one way or another, before he died.

Even if he had to give himself over to the Circle and their dark magic.

He gently took her warm hand, and the contact sent a jolt through him stronger than anything. It had been days since he had been with his mate the way he wanted, and Cain was still content to wait for her to be ready. But for how long? Lust and need constantly flowed between them; he wasn't sure how long he could hold it at bay.

He slipped the ring on her engagement finger and let her hand go. Layla didn't even stir. He hadn't tired her much with the run, so he knew this was more about her mental state.

He'd fix it. He'd do what he promised and make sure she enjoyed the rest of her time here before she had to go. If he managed to let her go.

But first, he had some hunting to do.

Dylan met him at the front door and walked with him to the side of the house that Layla couldn't see from her window if she woke up.

"What do you want me to tell her if she asks about you?" Dylan asked.

"Unexpected business trip. I'll be back tonight."

There was no way he would spend a night away from her. If he had to continue the hunt after seeing Chase, then so be it. His territory would be the safest place on earth for Layla by the time he was done.

Cain was right. He'd let people walk all over him long enough.

"Don't forget to find out more about her mother," he reminded his Beta. "And whatever you find, please keep it confidential."

"Am I going to find something?" Dylan asked, cocking his head as if to judge his answer.

Dylan wasn't the Beta just because he was his only friend. He'd earned that right. He was the second strongest member of this pack and had skills that had always put him a cut above the rest. Like him, Dylan could tell a lie a mile away. When he became Alpha, he would be able to stand toe to toe with the other Alphas.

If he stopped messing around and became more serious about the role, that was.

"Possibly," he answered before he walked into the woods. "I trust you, Dylan."

Did he? He would have to see when the time came. If Dylan deduced that Layla's mother was a wolf, then he would know straight away what Layla was.

He looked back at the house and opened his senses to find Layla. Her heart was still steady, but he knew that wasn't an indication of her mental state.

For a moment, the look that had flashed in her eyes as Cain approached her filled his mind. She'd been scared. Terrified. She'd watched him kill the rogue, so he shouldn't have expected anything less. But he was her mate. She should have been drawn to him in whatever form.

It was probably a good thing because he couldn't have her, anyway. But for the first time, the thought of letting her go filled him with an emotion he couldn't understand. It wasn't Cain's doing. The over-emotional, psychotic beast was still quiet after calling him a bitch, so everything he felt was all him.

He looked back at Dylan, who was still waiting for him to go.

"You have to take care of her, Dylan."

Dylan frowned, but he nodded. He'd also agreed to protect Layla with his life before, but he was still ready to kill her at any moment to remove her from the territory.

Trusting him again was going to be incredibly hard, he could tell.

"Go," he commanded.

He walked further into the trees where his Beta wouldn't see him take his clothes off if he happened to look back. He lifted his t-shirt and peeled off the dressing Diedre had applied. Even with her magical intervention, the bite still looked infected, even though it was barely an hour old. Diedre said it should heal in time, maybe at the speed of a human's wound, and she'd assured him he hadn't been infected by some unmentionable flesh-eating disease.

Still hurt like a bitch, though.

That was all he fucking needed on top of everything else. How was he supposed to explain any of that to Layla?

It wasn't going to happen again, though. As he took his clothes off and scanned his home, the place he knew like the back of his hand, he felt Cain's anger matching his own. There would be nothing left alive in there that wasn't supposed to be by the time he was done.

He rolled his neck and shoulders and let his beast take control. They were on the same page for now. These rogues and their master had to go.

He shifted, and his senses became amplified. The rogues could mask themselves all they wanted, but he would always be able to scent the dark magic. Maybe because his soul was as dark as they came. Like called to like.

As he ran through his woods, his domain, he picked up the faint trace of the Circle's dark magic. But there was more. Ahead of him in the woods, hiding, maybe waiting for their next commands, he sensed the presence of several rogues. They were so confident in their master's ability to protect them that they didn't realise he had caught them until he had the first head rolling from his jaws.

There were about six of them, all masked within the darkness that he ruled. Scentless, motionless, practically dead, as if only their master could animate them.

And animate them she did. As soon as he growled, they all turned to look in his direction, and their eyes glowed a bright blue. He could sense the evil around them as they stepped out of the shadows and started surrounding him. They were different sizes, but some were bigger than the wolf that almost killed Layla.

Rage started to fill him. It washed through his whole body until the need to paint the woods red with their blood was all that remained of him.

The demon of the forest.

He bared his teeth, and his hackles rose as he lowered his head and picked his second target. The wolf was down before the other realised he had moved. He had a chunk of his torso in his mouth by the time they started to attack.

Without Layla being too close to the fight for him to worry about, he let all his rage go. Limb after limb. Head after head. He didn't give the dirty rogues a chance to bite him again.

As the last wolf lay bleeding out at his feet, he looked it in its eyes, the eyes of its master and growled a warning. Whoever it was was too much of a coward to face him, so they used other wolves, and that pissed him off more than anything.

How could they claim to be any better than him when they were taking innocent lives, too?

He finished off the wolf and then stood quietly among the wreckage. There were more little groups like this scattered all over his land. They would all perish tonight.

By the time Jackson shifted and walked to his clothes in the middle of the night, he was bloody, scratched and only half satisfied. He'd become angrier the more wolves he had found. When had they all hidden on his land? How long had this plan been in motion? And worse still, what else would this witch throw at him?

When he dressed and walked out of the woods, Micah was waiting for him. His Head Warrior gave him a respectful nod before he gestured to some of his men to go and retrieve the last bodies so they could burn them.

His first stop was Layla's old room, where he threw his dirty clothes in the trash and took a long, soothing shower. A few times, he accidentally touched his bite wound and winced. Shifting hadn't sped up the healing at all as he had hoped. Once he was dry, he found another dressing in the first aid kit in the cabinet before he made his way to his room.

Layla's heartbeat was still steady, but when he opened the door, one of the bedside lamps was on, and she was wide awake, inspecting the ring on her finger.

Her mood changed when she saw him. That fear returned to her eyes. But he ignored it and dropped the towel around his waist before he slid into bed beside her. Layla's eyes widened, and she put some space between them.

"I can't..." she started.

"I know. I'm not a monster, Layla."

Debatable.

He fluffed his pillow and got comfortable, but he knew he would never really have a restful sleep again. He had months to live with this gut-wrenching fear that, at any moment, this half-blood mate of his would be taken from him.

"Goodnight, Layla," he said gently.

There was a brief pause before she answered.

"Goodnight, Jackson."