Chapter 12 - Layla
The Anchor door’s echo still trembled in the stone after Dominic and the others were gone, surging out into the first rays of morning sun to meet up with Arthur and the rest of the Nordan beyond the borders of Skymist.
Theodore stayed, pacing the rug, eyes bloodshot and jaw set.
He’d barely looked at her.
“Say it,” she finally said, pulling at the sleeves of the old woolen sweater Dominic had given her, picking at a loose thread at the cuff.
Theodore stopped, turning to her. For a heartbeat, she saw her brother, young and cheeky and ambitious. Then the officer returned, the high-ranking male, best friend and advisor to the Alpha. “Tell me what you did.”
“Nothing.” The word came out small. “I fell asleep in the shop. I had a dream.”
He laughed once, sharp and ugly. “A dream. And by coincidence, a Nordan scout ends up dead in the trees?” He dragged a hand over his jaw, catching on the scruff of his stubble. “Layla, I need the truth.”
“That is the truth,” she said, “I don’t know what more you want from me.”
He took two steps closer, sudden and jerky, his eyes narrowing as they darted about the room. “Was it witchcraft?”
She sucked in a gasp. Somehow, she didn’t think he’d actually dare speak the words. “Don’t call it that.”
“What should I call it?” he snapped, “You—this—” He gestured at her, at the angry red slash on her palm.
“You’re bound to the Alpha, chosen by Lunarion himself, apparently, have a nightmare, and then wake up to an attack that happened in exactly the same way you dreamed it.
Help me understand what that is, because if it was witchcraft, so help me, Layla—”
“I’m scared, Theo!” The words came out louder than expected, and she swallowed the sudden burning tightness in her throat, “I’m not hiding anything from you, I promise. I don’t know what’s going on, why this happened. You have to believe me!”
He flinched back at the rawness in her voice. Both of them were exhausted. Angry. Confused. Now was not the time to be having this fight.
But they were here now. And Layla would not back down.
“I’m trying to keep you alive,” Theodore hissed. “You’ve been lying all your life to me about this. Why should I believe tonight is any different?”
“What do you want me to say? That I ran home from a forced mating ceremony, soaked through and ready to collapse with exhaustion, and decided it was the perfect time for a spot of divination?”
“So you admit,” Theo pressed, “it wasn’t a dream?”
“I don’t know what it was!” she yelled, throwing her hands up in the air.
He growled softly, a rumbling in his chest, a warning.
She was, quite frankly, too tired to care about his bruised alpha ego. She sank down into one of the squishy armchairs near the fire, drawing her knees up to her chest, staring into the flames.
“I know you won’t believe me,” Theo said, “but everything I’ve ever done, I’ve done it to keep you safe. To keep us safe.”
She huffed, not looking at him. “Is that so.”
“It is,” he said, stalking towards her. “You have no idea how close our family was to being kicked out of the pack. Father was a useless drunk who couldn’t keep his mouth shut.
Mother was no better. There’s a reason they never made it to the Volnoye Pack when they left the Volkhov. They weren’t strong enough.”
“But you were,” she said, unable to keep some of the bitterness out of her voice. “Popular, strong, charismatic. The perfect companion to the high-ranking boys. You were only too happy to leave us behind.”
“I didn’t leave you behind,” he bit out. “It may not look like it to you, Layla, but keeping you under the radar, at the edges of the pack, it was the safest place for you. You could claim protection under the Volkhov name, and keep the freedom you always so desperately wanted.”
“What the hell do you know about what I want?” she said, finally turning to look at him, unable to resist baring her teeth.
He laughed then, low and ugly, full of accusation. “I suppose you’re right. Maybe I don’t know.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
“I can promise you, I don’t.”
“Dominic,” Theodore hissed, “the Alpha you slept with years ago and now have mated.”
She stared at him wide-eyed, too stunned to so much as laugh. “Is that what this is really about?”
“Part of it,” he growled, “yes.”
“What, are you jealous, Theo? Now that you’re no longer the favorite Hawthorne pet?”
He snarled, fists clenching, warm eyes flashing angrily, “Watch yourself.”
“You don’t need to worry,” she said, chest tightening. “He didn’t mate me because he actually respects me. He doesn’t even like me. Your precious position is safe.”
“Is that so?”
“It is,” she said, glaring back into the fire. “God knows that’s all you’ve ever wanted.”
He was silent for a moment, his breaths rapid and sharp. His scent was spiking, a whirling red haze of anger. Something inside her warned her she was straying too close to danger, but she was too exhausted to heed the signs.
“How can my position be safe,” he ground out, each word nearly forced out, “when my sister is running around performing witchcraft. If Dominic found out—”
“Is that a threat?” she asked, shooting to her feet, advancing on her brother.
“Because I have to say, I’m getting pretty damn sick of the stupid double standard.
You’re all far too happy to accept whatever crap supposedly comes from Lunarion, but if the word witchcraft is so much as whispered, you all suddenly act as if the world is ending!
And you with your constant ultimatums!” It must have been a ridiculous sight.
Her, a five-foot-nothing shifter unable to actually shift, dressed in a muddy white gown and an oversized fraying sweater, facing down her six-foot-five alpha brother, still resplendent in his Volkhov uniform with all its metal fixtures and gleaming blades.
She didn’t give a shit.
“Witchcraft is different from divine gifts, and you know it.” Theodore said, lip curling, “And when have I ever threatened you? Don’t you think that if I were going to tell Dominic, I would have done it by now?”
“But it’s as you say,” she said, waving her hand in his face, the mating wound barely beginning to heal, “things are different now. I’m the Luna. I outrank you.”
“Is that a threat?” her brother echoed, suddenly towering above her.
She just scoffed. “Come on, Theo, you know as well as I do that my title is meaningless. I had no choice in this, and I doubt I’ll have any greater standing in the pack because of it.”
“Then why bring it up?”
“Because I’m sick and tired of you flaunting your position over me! Your so-called self-sacrifice!”
“I have sacrificed!” he bellowed, and she reared back, eyes widening. “You’ve got no fucking clue what I’ve done for you! If you want to stand there assuming I’m just some…some selfish bastard with no regard whatsoever for this family, then fine. But if you do that, I’m done protecting you!”
“You never protected me!” Layla yelled, stumbling back from his menacing form, tears welling in her eyes.
“All those years, your friends tormented me! You never said a word! Not one word, Theodore! And tonight, when Dominic said he was claiming me, when you could see I didn’t want it, what did you do? ”
His jaw worked, hands flexing and unflexing.
“Well? What did you do, Theo? Nothing! You stood there, and you did nothing!”
“What was I supposed to do,” he said, voice like clashing steel.
She opened her mouth to shout another retort, but it died on her tongue. What was he supposed to do? Stand up to the Alpha? In front of the whole pack?
Furiously, she wiped at her eyes, wrapping her arms around herself. When she spoke, her voice was tiny. Pathetic. “I just…I just wanted you to be my brother.”
The words cracked something open inside her, and she found her grasp on her anger slipping.
Because it had never been about anger. Not really.
Her brother stood motionless. Or at least, she thought he did. All she could see of him was his perfectly shined leather boots, the edges blurry through her tears.
He turned away before she could see more. “Layla,” he said, his voice cold as ice, “I will not let you ruin everything I’ve worked towards. I don’t care if you believe me or not, but I have been doing what’s best. For both of us. If you get close to Dominic—”
“Theo—” she started, stepping towards him, but he held a hand up.
“If you get close to Dominic, if you allow him to fall victim to your lies, your little fantasies, then so help me, I’ll tell him.”
Her throat closed, “You won’t.”
“Try me,” he hissed. “I’ve let you get away with your witchcraft for far too long.
Magic is dangerous. It could destroy the whole pack.
And Dominic is vulnerable. So here’s what you’re going to do.
You’re going to be obedient, you’re not going to get in the way of anything, and you’re going to remember that this mating is nothing more than a political move. Understood?”
“Theo—”
“Am I understood?” he said, his voice like thunder.
She nodded, curling away from his raging form, throat tightening.
She’d known he could be cruel. But not like this. Never like this.
He sighed, a ragged sound, turning away from her and raking his hand through his hair in an angry, jerky motion.
She stood, motionless, waiting for the storm to pass.
Before it could, bootsteps struck against stone, many, fast. The doors swung wide.
Dominic came through first, face twisted into a snarl. Mud streaked his coat, and his dark curls were damp against his forehead. Julian followed, composed as ever, and behind him Chase followed, broad-shouldered, eyes raw with lack of sleep. A half dozen more moved in their wake, voices low.