66. Chapter 66

Chapter 66

E verything hurt.

Jax opened his heavy eyelids and winced against the brightness in the room. Even his eyeballs hurt. For the first time in his life, he felt disoriented and weak.

His head was swimming, and it felt like someone had hit him continuously with a sledgehammer. His limbs felt too heavy to move, and the bite on his side made his whole body feel like he was burning from the inside. Normally he healed faster than other werewolves because of his royal blood, but that witch must have done something to prevent that. He could feel the dark magic in his blood, trying to get a hold of him again. Whatever spell or poison she had used had to have been very strong because he hadn't sensed it until seconds before he passed out.

Even Diedre, the strongest witch he knew, had not sensed it.

He pushed that worry away because he was in no shape to make sense of that. The only thing that soothed him was the weight on his chest and the scent of his mate. Since the day he'd met her, he'd tried not to get addicted to it, but he couldn't stop it this time. The scent of amber laced with warm cinnamon filled his body with every breath. It gave him life in a way he couldn't explain. He could feel it binding to him, mixing with his blood like a drug and soothing him from the inside as it doused the fire caused by the bite. He didn't want to resist it.

When his life had been slipping away, that scent kept him from giving up. Layla had saved him.

He moved his head slightly to look down at the woman asleep on his chest.

He had not marked her, yet she was already bound to his soul. When he died, the repercussions would be more significant than he'd imagined.

"I fucked up, mate," he whispered.

His voice scratched his throat, and his mouth was dry. Maybe this was what being human felt like.

Layla stirred and then tightened her grip on him. Her leg was hooked over both of his as if she was trying to fuse herself to him. To keep him from leaving her. His poor mate. He could only imagine what the bond had made her feel. What urges had pulled at her because of her wolf blood. She knew the truth about what he was, so her human side wouldn't have wanted to be this close to him.

He focused on Layla while her closeness soothed him. Her red curls were everywhere, but they looked silkier than the day he met her. Smoother, too. Was that another side effect of their bond besides her better vision? The steady beating of her heart was like a balm as he continued to breathe her scent, and something tightened in his chest. He wasn't getting rid of her now. It would be impossible.

But that realisation didn't scare him. Not while she was on him like that. Maybe when he wasn't so weak, he could process the consequences of what had happened.

The pain in his body lessened enough to allow him to move the arm she wasn't sleeping on. He gently moved her hair so he could see her stunning face better. The smooth, blemish-free skin. The long eyelashes that cast a shadow on her cheeks. The high cheekbones and full, soft lips. Just stunning.

If he weren't dying, he would already have marked her, half-blood or not. He'd already spent too much time with Layla that what happened to his father would not have stopped him. He would have marked her the first time she'd screamed his name.

It was funny, though. His father had gone insane because his mate had point-blank refused him. His cruelty had preceded him. Everyone knew women didn't last very long in his bed. And then karma bit Alpha Richard hard in the ass. He'd found his mate in a territory he had been raiding—he'd already obliterated half the pack before he caught her scent.

And then the one woman who should have wanted him above all else had chosen to kill herself rather than be bonded for life to such a dick. He didn't blame her.

But because Richard's wolf had already caught the scent, he had pined for his lost mate until the mighty king had eventually lost his mind. His father had already treated them all like crap before that, but it had gone so much worse after. Pining for a mate did that to wolves. It had taken his father years before he snapped completely.

He had only been around Layla for weeks, but the urge to bite her was already unbearable. It would take much less time for him to reach that point.

But he still lay there and soaked in his mate's essence. Still touched her. Still listened to the sound of her breathing.

When she finally opened her eyes, he looked straight into the emerald eyes of the woman who owned his soul and felt complete. Despite all the shit he had done and all the shit he knew he had to do to make sure she was protected after he died, he saw her feelings in her eyes. Unhidden. Pure. Raw.

His half-blood was attached to him, too.

Her eyes widened, and she lifted herself off his chest.

"You're awake!"

He gave her a weak smile as she touched his forehead and checked the dressing on his side.

"I'll get you some water," she said quickly, turning to her nightstand where a jug of water was.

He tried to sit up, but he didn't have the strength to lift himself for more than a second. Layla noticed but didn't comment. Instead, she leaned over him to hug him to her chest and lifted him while she put more pillows behind him. He didn't have to ask her to be careful of his wound.

Once he'd had a glass of water, his throat felt better. Layla had put some distance between them but she was still close enough. Was she not scared of him anymore? Maybe he'd been too quick to assume her human side didn't want to be close to him.

"How long was I out?"

"I don't really know. I made it two days before I passed out," Layla said with a frown.

Two days? He was surprised Dylan hadn't taken the chance to drag her away from him when he'd been unconscious.

"You stayed up that long for me?" he asked with a smile. "Thank you."

"I had to. You said you have the best doctors, but it didn't look like that to me," Layla grumbled.

Dark magic was hard to fight. Diedre's magic hadn't worked the night he'd got bitten, so he'd already known, even before his whole world went black, that she wouldn't have been able to heal him. But he could explain that to Layla. He'd already revealed his nature, he couldn't tell her anything else that could cost her her life.

"Well, I'm grateful you were here to care for me instead," he said.

He used all his strength to move his hand and put it over her knee. Layla didn't move away even though he was sure she felt the sparks.

"Are you okay? I dumped a lot on you before I passed out."

Layla looked away. Her emotions were all over the place and his head wasn't right enough to make sense of them.

"We'll talk about that later. I think I need to get you into the tub," she said as she moved his hand away and slipped off the bed. "We smell kind of ripe."

"We do," he chuckled.

Layla paused and looked back at him. She looked shocked for a minute before she carried on walking.

"I don't think I'll make it that far, Layla. I'll have to wait until I'm stronger."

Layla stopped again and looked back at him. As she inspected him, something flashed in her eyes but he still couldn't pinpoint what it was. The dark magic had messed him up beyond anything he had ever known. He could already feel himself healing, but it shouldn't have happened that slowly.

"Your friend Dylan practically lived here for days. I can call him to help me—"

"I'll call someone. Run the bath; he'll be here soon."

Dylan had been salivating when he'd discovered the truth about Layla's nature. Maybe he hadn't acted on it because he'd been more worried about his Alpha on the brink of death. If he decided to do it now that he was healing, there was no way he could defend Layla.

But he should have known Dylan would come anyway after he mindlinked Micah. His Beta came into the room first with pure relief plastered on his face, so much that he felt like an asshole for growling in warning.

"Jax?"

He didn't answer. Dylan lowered his gaze and then looked at the bathroom door, where the sound of the running bath filtered through.

He growled again, and Dylan stepped back. It was just for show, but he wasn't sure if Dylan could sense how weak he was.

"I'll... I'll check how you are later," Dylan said gruffly before he walked back out of the room.

Maybe he was the asshole destroying their friendship, but he couldn't take any chances with Layla's life.

Micah stepped forward with his head lowered.

"It's good to see you awake, Alpha," he said.

"How long was I out?"

"A week."

Holy shit.