43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43

J ackson stood and looked at the man who used to be his best friend. He wasn't ready, but he couldn't avoid the conversation anymore.

"You shouldn't eavesdrop."

"What do you mean you're going to die?" Dylan repeated.

He should have known better than to have this conversation with Diedre in his office, especially when he knew he had traitors in his pack.

He looked back at Diedre and saw she had huddled into the blanket, and relief emanated from her. Maybe she had spoken like that in his office on purpose because she knew if Dylan overheard, she would no longer be alone in this fight. He wanted to be upset with her, but Diedre looked too frail, and her intentions were always pure.

"Go and rest, Diedre. I'll speak to you later."

Diedre slowly got to her feet. He sensed Dylan's shock as they watched her start making her way out of the room.

"Dee... What have you done to yourself?" Dylan whispered.

"I'll be okay if you talk some sense into him," the witch said before she walked out of the office.

Then it was just the two of them. Dylan didn't mask anything as their gazes clashed.

"I know I fucked up with Layla, but I'm still your friend. Talk to me," his Beta begged.

Dylan was already breaking apart before he'd heard the whole story. Once the words were spoken and he couldn't take them back, the emotions would be harder to handle.

But it was time.

He sighed and gestured for Dylan to follow him out of the room. There was more activity around the house as the pack started to wake up, and his senses told him his mate had woken up, too. His chest squeezed at the thought of the conversation he would have with her later.

He walked into the conference room and headed straight for the drinks cabinet. It was too early for a drink, but it was one of those days. He'd probably go through a whole bottle by the end of the day.

He poured two shots of a very strong mature whiskey and took one to Dylan before he sat on the sofas. Dylan took the seat opposite him. His Beta's heart was racing, and his grip on his glass looked tight.

"Tell me," Dylan growled.

Cain unfurled and watched the man he would have given his life for before Layla came into the picture.

"Remember the settlement we attacked the day I became King?"

Dylan nodded.

"We'd got the proof that they were taking human children for whatever twisted things they were doing there, but your father had refused to act," Dylan confirmed.

That incident, more than any other, had pushed him to finally put an end to his father's reign. Richard King had been more preoccupied with making his pack miserable than fulfilling his duties as a king.

So on that day, before his father could kill another pack member for what he perceived as weakness, Jackson had killed him and ascended to the throne. And on his very first night as king, he had damned himself.

"We killed all of them," Jackson recalled. "You tried to spare the women and children, but I..."

"They deserved everything they got," Dylan hissed.

And the human children? The Circle had been pleased that they were all gone so no one would reveal any details to the human world. Diedre had assured him that they had already been hexed and were not the children they had been before they had been taken. But still...

He had done his first job with the uncontrollable rage and brutality that had cemented his position as king. The Shadow Moon pack had ceased to exist that day because of their heinous crimes, but he had been the bigger monster. Cain had wanted them all gone, and he had done that with no remorse.

"Maybe they did," he sighed.

"What does that have to do with what Diedre said? Are you looking back at everything you've had to do because you're..."

Dylan couldn't even finish the sentence without that pain flaring up. Was he going to break when he finally heard the truth?

"On that day, with her dying breath, the Shadow Moon pack witch cursed me to die on my twenty-fifth birthday."

The shot glass dropped from Dylan's hand and spilt its contents on the floor. Shock and confusion filled the room.

"That was years ago. It can't be true," Dylan said. "Diedre would have..."

Perhaps Dylan remembered their witch's words and the way she had looked. Her failure was more than obvious.

"A witch's spell dies when she does. No one knew we were going to attack them, so she couldn't have had time to cast anything so binding," Dylan said. "I don't believe it's true."

"There was a blood moon that night. A full moon. And the pack had been dabbling in dark magic for years," he reminded Dylan. "Nothing is stronger than a curse cast out with the dying breath of a witch who'd already sold her soul."

Dylan opened his mouth as if to argue, but nothing came out of his lips. The pain returned two-fold, and he hadn't even told him the worst of it.

"That's why you've been forcing me to take over your duties," Dylan whispered. "That's why you've been desperate for an heir. And if you mark your mate, she will die with you."

His brow lifted at Dylan's words. He'd known about Layla?

"I thought she was just some random girl until the night she threw herself on top of me and commanded the beast from the depths of hell to let me live," Dylan said. ‘Only a mate could have done that."

His Beta sat back on the sofa and covered his face. He was half broken, but he still had hope. Diedre had been the same in the beginning until the truth had reduced her to nothing but a husk.

"I know some people," Dylan said after a while, rising to his feet. "I'll be discreet. Someone owes me a favour—"

"Dylan."

"There are six months until your birthday," Dylan continued. "I still think it's bullshit, but we can beat this."

"Dylan," he tried again as he stood, too. "I didn't get everyone that day. The attacks on our pack, the hexed rogues, it's someone from that pack who's hell-bent on making sure I don't enjoy the rest of my life. You've seen how strong she is; even Diedre can't fight her magic. I'm cursed. I'm going to die. I'm sorry."

Dylan stepped back and shook his head.

"I'll find the witch."

"No, that's my job. You look after everyone else."

Dylan shook his head again.

"Diedre says you have to mark Layla. I know she's different. She's been doing things lately, I'm sure her wolf side is stronger than it should be, but she's still perfectly fine. If you mark her—"

"No."

"I've been wracking my brain trying to figure out why Fate gave you a half-blood for a mate," Dylan said, his hope rising again as if he wasn't listening. "But that may be the solution. Maybe something will happen to her wolf, but her human side will stay intact."

"I said no. And don't you dare tell Diedre about that, either. You swore to keep it secret."

"Jax—"

"I will not risk Layla's life just to save my own. I'm not worth that, Dylan," he growled. "Make peace with what I've told you and go and be the best Alpha you can be. Because that will be your job in six months."

Dylan's hope died, and the pain returned to crash into both of them. His Beta shook his head and then walked to the door.

"Dylan."

He didn't turn back, but the pain was already magnified again. Maybe Dylan would accept the truth quicker than Diedre had.

Dylan left the room and stormed out of the house. He tracked his Beta's movement to the packhouse gates and then the woods beyond, and the whole time he projected his pain.

His brother from another mother. The man he had gone through every situation in his life with. Though things had changed lately, even his bond with Layla wouldn't erase the past. Dylan's pain hit him hard.

He downed his shot of whiskey and got up to pour another one and then another. But still, he wasn't fortified enough when he walked out of the conference room to start on what he had to do.

When he walked into the lobby, he saw his mate standing at the foot of the stairs, looking at the entrance. She would have sensed Dylan's pain, as well, and that was a reminder of how strong their bond had become.

A reminder of what he had to do to save her.

He walked to her and waited until she turned to face him. Her worry for Dylan was written all over her face.

"Is he okay?" she asked.

"He's fine. Don't concern yourself," he said firmly. "Go and start packing. I no longer need you here; you've done your job. Give me a day or two to make arrangements."

Layla's pain added to Dylan's.

And it added to his.

He left the house before the bond made him change his mind, and he ignored Cain's howls. He had work to do. Cain could unleash his emotions more productively to deal with the threats around them more effectively.

Two days. Then Layla would be out of his life.