70. Chapter 70

Chapter 70

I t was still dark when he stopped the car outside the packhouse and mindlinked Dylan to help Layla with Hope and their bags.

Guilt was eating him up. His heart raced, and Cain howled loudly in his head. Diedre was the closest thing to a mother that they had. He'd seen how bad she had been; he shouldn't have left her. She should have been surrounded by the people she loved the most.

Dylan came out of the house just as he ran up the front steps.

"She's in the kitchen," Dylan said.

He stopped and looked at his Beta with a questioning frown. Why would Diedre be in the kitchen when she was so unwell?

Dylan let out a breath and continued down the steps without saying anything else.

He walked into the house slowly and listened. The house was empty except for the young orphans who couldn't shift yet. And Diedre was in the kitchen.

He followed her scent mixed with the smell of baking down the hall. He could hear humming...

When he pushed the kitchen door open slowly, the humming filled the air. The same humming he had grown up with, the same comforting sound. The same smell of cinnamon and vanilla in the air as the witch made what looked like his favourite treats.

Diedre opened the oven, pulled out a cinnamon roll tray, and then carried it over to the counter to put it next to dozens of other trays.

Her voice was strong.

She was walking unaided, with a spring in her step.

And when she turned around, there wasn't a single wrinkle on her face, and her eyes and cheeks were not hollow.

"Jax!"

A big smile filled her face, one he hadn't thought he'd ever see again.

Diedre twirled as if she was a young girl and then rushed forward to take his hands. Her hands were warm, not ice-cold as they had been before. And it looked like even her hair was regaining its lustre.

"How?" he asked.

Dylan had told him to come home, so he'd expected the worst. Not this, whatever this was. Diedre had somehow beaten the dark magic that had bound her. He could no longer sense it in her body, sucking the life out of her.

Diedre pulled him further into the kitchen and made him sit on one of the stools around the island.

"Try this," she said, putting a cinnamon roll on a napkin and placing it on his palm. "I made all your favourites."

He looked around the kitchen and realised trays and Tupperware covered every surface.

"How, Dee?" he asked again.

Diedre's smile widened. She took the pastry from him and set it aside before taking his hands again.

"Layla," she whispered.

He sucked in a breath. Layla had visited Diedre several times since they had returned from the depths of the forest. She had read to Dee, bathed her, nursed her the same way she had nursed him when he'd been injured, and she had done all of this while still taking care of Hope and training.

In his heart, he had hoped she would do whatever she had done to make him and the other pack members better. He had hoped for it even when he knew Diedre would figure things out.

But Diedre had steadily deteriorated, and he'd lost hope that she would make it to the day the witch's curse took him.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I was going, Jax. I was just waiting for my last breath so I could join all my sisters who went before me. I saw the face of death and welcomed it," Diedre said. "But Layla came into my room and pulled me back."

"She's been coming to your room every day," he pointed out.

"Not like that," Diedre whispered, pulling a stool so she could sit in front of him. "She told me to fight it. I felt her will for me to live as if it was a tangible thing. I heard her crying and felt her sadness. It was different, Jax. Everything makes perfect sense now."

He knew what was coming. He could feel it in Diedre's emotions, see it in the excitement on her face. Dee hadn't looked that excited since before the curse.

"Do you remember when we were attacked, and I couldn't figure out how those injured people who were on death's door got better?" Diedre asked. "Not once but two times. I asked around, and she visited all of them. I saw her crying as she came out of one of the rooms, and then the very next day, everyone had started to heal."

"Diedre—"

"Do you remember waking up after you'd been bitten by an infected wolf? Again, not once, but two times. And the second time, your infection was worse, and you had broken bones, but you were up the next day like you'd just had a scratch."

He remained quiet. He would be forever grateful that Layla had been able to help Diedre, but he would never do what he knew Diedre was going to ask for.

"I told you she's the key."

"There is no key, Dee."

"She's the only one who can break the curse. You need to mark her."

He sighed and brought Diedre's hand to his lips to kiss it.

"I was so worried, Dee. I need you to stay alive to help Dylan and Layla with Hope," he said.

"Don't change the subject," Diedre said, snatching her hand away. "I could feel the witch's hold on me getting stronger and stronger, sucking my birthright from my body. I've never felt anything so powerful. But your Layla defeated it. She beat the darkness. You don't know how strong she is."

He did. Every night when she was unguarded, he felt Layla's strength. The strength she would use to protect their child.

"You have to trust me, Jax. I don't know how I know, but she's what I've been looking for, for five years. Only someone as powerful as she is can stand as your queen. Your mate. The other half of you. You met her at this precise time for a reason."

Yes. So he could taste what real love was like before hell took his damned soul.

"If what you say is true, then let's assume she already broke the damn curse when she healed me both times. She's in my bed all the time; I have more contact with her than anyone else," he said as he picked up the cinnamon roll.

"What if it only works when she knows you're dying," Diedre continued. "You sharing the bed is like all those times she came to look after me when she assumed I would get better, Jax. There's no greater magic than a bond between true mates. What if the witch thought of that, and that's why she's been trying to kill her?"

"There are still too many ifs," he growled. "The witch who hexed you and the one who cursed me with her dying breath are two different people. I will never risk her life like that, so my answer is still the same. I'm sorry, Dee. I know you love me, and I love you to pieces. But you have to let me go. You have to accept that the witch's curse is stronger than anything. I'm dying."

The kitchen door closing alerted him that they were no longer alone.

And only one person in the packhouse could sneak up on him like that.

His heart started to race again. He put the cinnamon roll down before he could take a bite. Diedre's gaze went to the door, and the big smile returned to her face.

"What... What do you mean, Jax? Why would you say you're dying?"