Chapter 10
Sutton
Ican’t do this much longer. Cooped up in this little apartment with Layla still smelling like… him. Even now, though she’s gone to the Courtyard, her scent, mixed with his, lingers in the air. It’s driving me crazy.
I need to get out of here.
The door comm buzzes. I hit the door release, and the metal slab slides open.
“Good day, Sutton,” Kydax says. He’s a big motherfucker. Almost makes Zayd appear normal-sized by comparison.
Fuck, I hate that I have that bastard in my head. I can’t stop picturing him with Layla. I can’t stop smelling him.
“What can I do for you, Kydax?” I ask as more of a distraction from my own thoughts than out of any kind of desire for a genuine answer.
“I understand that you were a professional fighter before the world fell into ruin. I was wondering if you would be interested in joining my officers and me for some fight training. I am sure we could learn a thing or two from you, and I thought you might like the activity.”
“Fuck, yes.”
Finally. Not just an escape from this sensory prison but a chance to take out some of my pent-up aggression on someone other than Layla.
Something changed in me when I fought and killed that alpha.
My emotions are mixed up. Most of the time, I can’t tell if I need to fight or fuck someone.
Fortunately, so far, I’ve been able to steer my energy toward fucking.
I’m not angry at Layla. I don’t want to fight with her, but I’m starting to worry that if I don’t work this energy off in some other way, I’m going to fuck her so hard and so often, I’ll break her.
Heat blooms on my chest when I remember she’s been with someone far more equipped to break her than me. I ask Kydax, “Wait. Will Zayd be there?”
Kydax nods. “Will that be a problem? After all, you are the victor. Layla is your mate.”
I forgot that that’s all that matters to them. They find what happened between Layla and Zayd to be perfectly acceptable because all that matters is the comfort of an omega.
I wish I could see it that way. Sure would make all of this a lot easier.
Maybe I should try.
Forcing myself to spend time with Zayd would be a good start.
But I can’t guarantee that if he has us spar, I won’t try to kill him.
Though I know better, I lie, “Not a problem. Just a question.”
“Wonderful. We will see you in the training comb in an hour.”
Almost an hour later, I nearly plow Layla over on my way out the door.
“Where are you going?” Her arms are loaded with bags from another shopping spree.
Thanks to the alpha’s replicator technology, we don’t have to pay for anything. We’d never be able to afford all the stuff she’s hauled in. From pillows to paintings to silly little trinkets that have absolutely no business existing in a post-apocalyptic world.
“Training comb,” I tell her. “Kydax wants me to show him what my fighting style’s like.”
“Oh! That’s cool,” she loses a little enthusiasm when I don’t match it. “Um… Have fun?”
I force a smile, hoping it will ease her mind a little. “Sure.”
I’m trying, Layla baby. I really am.