1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I t had been two weeks since Jackson had locked her in a room and disappeared.

And she knew he had disappeared because Faith, the only person she had seen in those two weeks, had told her so.

It was funny how nothing else seemed to matter just because her worry had taken her over. Her stronger hearing, eyesight, her messed up head... None of it.

It didn't matter that she was somehow able to sit by her window listening in to all the conversations outside just because she wanted to hear any information about Jackson.

It didn't matter that she had become so violent that she'd beat Amber up as if it was nothing.

It didn't matter that she could now see all the way to the gate and the guardhouse when she had seen nothing when she first arrived.

It didn't matter that she was living among murderers.

It didn't matter that when she sat by the window at night, she saw the glowing eyes in the woods. She heard the snarls. The growls. And she was becoming just like them just because she was living with them.

It didn't matter that she could hear the soft footsteps of the wolf coming up the hallways and smell the food on the tray she carried.

Jackson was gone. And her world had ended.

The door was unlocked, and Faith walked in with her dinner. She was early. As always, the young wolf locked the door behind her before carrying the tray to the table, and then she turned without saying a word.

"Is there any news?" she asked. She had hardly spoken lately, so her voice was hoarse.

"I've told you not to keep asking me," Faith said.

Faith was no longer friendly like she had been before. There were no warm smiles or stolen conversations.

"I need to know."

"If you needed anything from him, all you had to do was ask. I don't know why you had to destroy our home by being so selfish," Faith said, walking towards the door. "Breakfast will be late tomorrow, so I brought some sandwiches and fruits in case you get hungry."

She was still being taken care of even though she was a real prisoner this time. The door closed firmly and then the key was turned. She sighed and looked back out of the window. The sun was almost setting and the full moon was already out. There were more people than usual for the end of the day out on the lawn, and the whispered conversations were about a run.

Was that a thing wolves did? Run together under a full moon?

That was something she would never really know because even if Jackson came back, he wouldn't talk to her like he did before. Had she hurt him that much? Did he feel like she did? Like there was a hole where his heart used to be?

The lock turned in the door again, surprising her out of her thoughts. She hadn't heard anyone else come up the stairs after Faith. Could it be... Her heart rose to her mouth as the door opened, and then immediately crashed again when she saw who had walked in.

She turned completely from the window to look at the dark-haired man. His beard had grown and his green eyes looked tired. But he had healed entirely from the beating Jackson had given him. Jackson had snatched her up and dragged her back to the car, and he had driven it with the missing door back to the packhouse. They had left Dylan lying in his blood on the ground in the forest.

Dylan's eyes were sharp as they met hers, and there was none of the coldness she was used to in them. He stood by the door for a long while without saying anything. She wasn't surprised that she remained calm—she'd felt dead for weeks. Her heart was steady as she looked him in the eyes.

"Why did you do it?" he asked finally.

She turned back to look out the window without responding. Moments later, Dylan came to stand beside her and looked out into the yard, too.

"You're going to have to stay away from the windows tonight in case you see something you shouldn't."

Something else, he meant. She knew he had been conscious when she had thrown herself between him and the red-eyed beast.

"Why did you do it, Layla?" Dylan asked again.

"Would you rather have died?"

"Jackson was right. I haven't been good to you, and I did want you dead. You must have known that. So why did you save me?"

She sighed and walked away from the window to go and sit in front of her food. Even though she felt like shit, she had become rather ravenous lately. She didn't want to think what that meant. She had no other pregnancy symptoms but...

"He told me you're his only friend. And you did seem close when I met you at the hotel. I don't want him to do something he'll regret when I'm gone."

Dylan folded his arms and leaned against the window ledge.

"I thought I was fixing things but made them worse," he said quietly. "He ordered me to protect you with my life. I shouldn't have tried to find a way around that. I owe you my life now, Layla. I will keep the promise I made to him."

She paused in the middle of lifting the lids off her food.

"Why are you speaking as if he's not coming back?"

"Because I don't know if he will. He's cut everyone off. I can't reach him."

She was sure he didn't mean over the phone. He was openly discussing werewolf things with her when Jackson told her the knowledge was too dangerous for her to have.

But she couldn't think about that when Dylan's words hit her hard.

Why had she even wondered if Jackson felt the same? The first changes she had noticed in herself were her reactions to him. Sensing how he felt had become an everyday thing. She had known she had hurt him the moment she said those words that night.

The pain had been...

She put the lid back on her food, the pain at the forefront again.

"When did you know?"

She knew what he was asking, but for the first time since she arrived, she put all her trust in Jackson and everything he had taught her.

"Know what?"

"I know you saw him. You saw what he did," Dylan said.

"I don't know what you mean," she answered calmly before she opened the food containers and put some food in her mouth.

Dylan sighed and then pushed away from the window. He walked towards her and pulled something out of his pocket. Her phone. She dropped her cutlery and eagerly reached for it.

"I've saved my number there. Call me if you need anything," Dylan said. "And try not to worry your sister. I can't take you to see her because taking you past the gates is... It's dangerous."

There were too many missed calls and messages on her phone. Brit would have been going out of her mind.

But still, even that thought didn't hurt her as much as the pain in her chest caused by Jackson.

"Do you need anything? More food, books? Movies?"

It was weird to see him being civil. She shook her head and put the phone down on the table. She couldn't speak to Brit now, anyway. Her sister would know that something was wrong.

"Don't try to come outside tonight. It will be dangerous," Dylan continued.

And then he gave her a nod before walking to the door.

He was halfway there when he paused and then rushed to the window. His face paled, and his eyes flashed briefly.

"Fuck," he whispered.

"What's happened?" she asked as she stood and walked to the windows, too.

Was it Jackson? Could he see him?

Dylan turned and pulled something else from his pocket. She was surprised when he put a set of keys in her hand.

"Lock the door behind me and hide. Do not let anyone but me into this room."

"What's happening?" she repeated, following him to the door.

"We're under attack."