8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

J ackson stood in front of the basement door with his fists balled up. Everything in him ached to go back and tell her he hadn't meant anything he'd said.

Not seeing her again? The very thought of it was breaking him, even though it was what had to happen in the end. But Layla didn't give a shit about him, so he was the one who would suffer being so close to her. He should have sent her away.

‘No, it's me! I'm the one who will suffer the most!' Cain cried dramatically. He could imagine the beast swooning to the ground. ‘If you just listen to me and mark her, she won't be able to leave.'

‘Oh, believe me, I'm tempted right now. There's something satisfying about imagining her dying the moment I do.'

But, of course, that was a lie, and Cain knew it. Despite everything, he still didn't want her to die. He still wanted to protect her. How fucked up was that?

"I've been waiting for you."

He looked up at the man who interrupted his thoughts and his mood soured further. Dylan lowered his head, and there was a hint of fear in him because he knew he had done something dangerous.

"Can we talk?" Dylan asked.

He was still so angry with his former friend that he didn't think he could have a conversation with him without ripping him apart.

"Probably safer not to," he said as he forced himself to walk away from the basement door. "Layla isn't here to save you this time."

He couldn't afford to do anything else that would hurt his pack when they had already been devastated by their losses.

"Okay. Fair enough," Dylan said. "Diedre wants to see you. We've had some... recoveries that she can't explain."

He stopped and turned back to Dylan with a questioning frown.

"I can't explain them either," Dylan shrugged. "Diedre is convinced none of her potions worked. We moved the seriously injured people into the house and brought equipment from the hospital, but it didn't look like anything the doctors were doing was helping. When I went around to see them, I thought they wouldn't make it through the night."

He started walking down the hallway and opened up his senses to try to find Diedre. When she had gone on that spirit quest, he had assumed she would figure out where the problem with her magic was and fix it. It didn't work on him and Layla anymore, but she was supposed to be able to take care of everyone else. What was happening to her? Diedre wasn't just his friend; she was the closest thing to a mother that he had. He needed her to be okay.

"We're going to start clearing the forest and see if we can find any clues to help us figure out what the hell happened," Dylan said as he followed behind him. "I'll take some food to Layla after tha—"

"No. You'll stay the fuck away from her from now on. Worry about all the duties I gave you and taking care of everyone else," he growled without looking back.

He followed Diedre's scent to the infirmary. There was a queue outside of people waiting to be treated. Someone had been thoughtful enough to provide seats, and most looked exhausted rather than injured. The healing process tended to take a lot out of someone, so he was confident all they needed was some rest.

Relief filled him as he walked past them to knock at Diedre's door.

He could feel all the sets of eyes on the back of his head and all the disappointment they felt. He couldn't blame them.

Diedre called out for him to enter and he did so quickly to escape the judgement. A young girl sat on the examination table while Diedre threw some herbs and potions together for her from her special cabinet. The girl tensed and lowered her gaze when he walked in and mumbled a greeting.

"Drink this once a day in a warm drink," Diedre said and handed the little bottle to her. "It will help you sleep."

The girl thanked Diedre as she hopped off the table, and then she left the room quickly as if she couldn't stand being too close to him.

Diedre would probably see many people having trouble sleeping after being attacked, especially the younger ones. When his father had been the King, most of the pack members had been on a battlefield by the time they became teenagers, despite not shifting until they were eighteen. But he wanted kids to be kids and for them to enjoy their lives and choose their paths. He wanted them educated and able to earn a living and become independent. Though he trained them to defend themselves efficiently, he didn't want them fighting in stupid wars. His father had believed that giving them a choice would weaken the pack, but he knew it was the opposite. Before Layla, his pack had probably been the most content in all the territories.

Before Layla.

Why did he have to even think about her?

"Did that girl have to fight?" he asked as he walked over to Diedre's desk and sat on one of the chairs.

"No. She was saved. A man from the other pack almost... She was saved," Diedre repeated with a sigh. "She'll be okay."

Almost...? His fists clenched. If he could bring every single one of the Red Moon pack members back to life, he would do it and then kill them all over again. Slowly.

"Let's go upstairs. I have something to show you," Diedre said after she washed and dried her hands.

He nodded and followed the witch out of the room. She looked much worse than the last time he had seen her. It wasn't just that the air around her felt different, as if her magical essence had left her body; she even walked differently. She walked like she had aged a little; she was slower and had none of her usual infectious energy.

His worry increased. Diedre was now officially the only person he could trust completely. What would he do if he lost her?

"I need you to go and rest after this," he told her gently. "I know you were up all night with the doctors; I could hear you."

"I'm fine, Jackson," Diedre said with an irritated wave of her hand. "I can't do anything else right; at least let me do that."

"I think this is one of those things where you get worse when you overthink and worry about it. You know your magic is within you; you'll get it back when Fate decides," he said gently.

"I'm a witch who can't witch," Diedre snorted as they reached the first floor. "I like your optimism, Jackson, but I'm not going to give up just because you have."

And he knew that statement was meant for their current situation as well as her trying to break his curse. But he believed that Diedre would return to her usual self once he was gone and his curse no longer stained his territory.

Just outside the door, Diedre paused.

"She was the worst one," the witch whispered. "She had lost too much blood, and her organs had started to shut down. She'd been too injured to even heal herself."

When Diedre walked in, it was to find a young woman with her hair tied back looking out her window. Her cheeks were rosy, and her face was a healthy colour. She looked even better than the wolves who had lined up outside Diedre's infirmary.

"Alpha," the woman said in greeting. She lowered her head as they approached.

"How are you feeling?" Diedre asked.

"I heard what you just said, but I feel better than ever," she answered. "Am I free to go now? My kids—"

"They're here in the house being taken care of," Diedre said, "but wait until you have breakfast. We don't want to rush things."

Especially considering they didn't know how she had healed in the first place. He let Diedre do all the talking while he paid attention to all her movements. He couldn't sense anything wrong. Not a single thing. She was in optimum health, just as she said.

It was the same in all the other rooms. The patients were bright-faced and asked when they could go out to their families. Something didn't add up. Was it the witch? Had she somehow infiltrated his territory during the attack, and now all these people were waiting for their chance to kill Layla? Had they been put under a spell like the rogues?

But he ruled that out immediately because there wasn't a trace of magic anywhere, light or dark.

When they had seen the last one, he walked with Diedre to the conference room and poured them both a stiff drink. Once he sat beside her on the sofa, he drowned his shot in one go.

"Something's not right," Diedre whispered. "It had to be magic, but it's not mine. There is someone or something else here within our walls."