Chapter 25 - Layla
When Layla woke, the world was quiet.
Light seeped around the curtains, pale as milk, the distant crash of the sea as gentle as a whisper. Linen rasped under her fingers when she flexed, her body answered with a chorus of aches, and she bit back a groan.
She turned her head and found Dominic.
He had fallen asleep in a chair pulled close to the bed, boots on the floor, forearms braced on his thighs, head bowed.
His shirt hung open at the throat, revealing a smear of dried blood he’d missed, a spray of bruises across his ribs.
Someone had cleaned most of him up, and his shifter healing had taken care of most of the wounds.
Despite that, there was a dark shadow over his jaw where stubble had grown in overnight.
He looked exhausted and impossibly alive.
Her chest pulled tight. The memory returned in flashes, white roaring down the mountain, the howl that ripped from his chest, the wild, terrifying beauty of it, and the feel of his fur under her hands as he ran.
“Dom,” she whispered.
He was on his feet in a heartbeat, sleep burned off like mist. “Layla.” His voice was raw. Relief split him open; she could see it happen. He leaned over the bed. “How do you feel?”
“Like I wrestled a mountain and lost,” she said, attempting a smile. “Where are we?”
He paused a beat. “My house. The Anchor’s chaos at the moment, and I needed somewhere safe for you, somewhere the others could also find me—”
“How long?” She pushed up on her elbows, the room tilted and steadied.
“Almost a day.”
She blinked. “A day?”
He managed a wry tilt of his mouth. “You did try to bring down a mountain with your bare hands.”
Memory knifed through her, the surge of power leaving her body, the way it had torn at her, beautiful and unbearable. She swallowed. “It didn’t work. Not enough.”
He sank back onto the edge of the chair, close enough that she could see pale chips of silver in his eyes. “It worked enough to weaken it,” he said quietly, “and then…” his gaze dropped to his hands, flexing once. “Then I finished it.”
“You howled,” she said, the words reverent despite the rasp in her throat. “I’ve never heard anything like it.”
His eyes lifted to hers, wary. “Does it frighten you?”
She let the question sit a moment, testing her own heart. “It doesn’t,” she said. “It…felt right. Like it was meant to be you.”
He exhaled, slow. The muscles at the corner of his jaw unclenched. “I didn’t know I could do it. It came from deep in my chest. The other day, when I collapsed…I think that was it, waking up. My gift from Lunarion.”
She sucked in a breath. “Your gift? Doesn’t that mean…”
He didn’t reply, just fixed her with a warm, steady, intense gaze that stole her words away.
Silence settled, welling and warm. The fire popped. Street noise drifted faintly, the clatter of a cart, gulls arguing over fish guts somewhere down by the docks. The ordinary world, returning.
“Layla,” his voice gentled, “don't do that again.”
She laughed despite herself. “Which part? Running into a war? Or attempting a questionable spell on a mountain during a storm?”
“Yes,” he said, with the first intact hint of humor she’d heard from him in days. It faded. “You collapsed. I thought—” he stopped, swallowed, “I thought I was going to lose you.”
He sounded so raw then, an exposed nerve, an open book.
She’d never seen him like this.
“I’m sorry,” the words tumbled out before she could stop them. “I’m sorry about all of it. The magic, the lies, everything. I wish I could take it all back. I never wanted to hurt you.”
He shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I never should have talked to you like that. I never should have made you feel like…like you couldn’t come to me. It’s my fault.”
“It’s not,” she said, reaching for his hand, “it’s pack law. I knew what I was doing when I broke it.”
“Pack law,” he echoed, gripping her hand, expression growing serious. “I don’t know that I can change it. Julian’s managed to spin your visions, your powers, as just a gift of the mating bond, an extension of my own power. I don’t know that I could make it safe for you to stay here.”
“You mean…” her heart stuttered, “you mean safe for me to practice witchcraft?”
He nodded, swallowing hard. “It’s who you are, Layla. And it saved us. All of us. I’m just sorry that I can’t make the pack see that. See what you’ve sacrificed for them.”
“Maybe,” she said, voice growing soft, “maybe in the future. We could introduce it slowly, show the pack it can be used for good—”
He moved, climbing onto the bed to sit next to her, letting her settle against his chest. The steady drumbeat of his heart calmed her. “I’m sorry, Layla. Some things run too deep. I’ve already turned this whole pack on its head once. I don’t think I can do it again.”
“I understand,” she said, her voice small as she traced the open edge of his shirt.
“You can leave,” he said, his voice tight, “I wouldn’t stop you. There’s a coven in Juneau. More still out east. You could find your people, learn from them—”
“My people are here,” she said fiercely, propping herself up on his chest to stare into his face. “I belong here. With you. I won’t leave.”
He released a breath, long and ragged, one hand cupping her cheek.
“We’re not finished fighting,” he said at last. “Leonid is a constant threat. Whoever it was controlling the hybrids…they could still be out there.”
“I know.”
“But I want to do this with you, Layla. Not around you. Not despite you. With you.”
She felt the smile before she felt herself make it. She reached for his hand where it cradled her face, impossibly warm.
“We’re going to make so many people angry,” she said.
“That’s always been my gift,” he said, deadpan, “I’d rather not do it alone.”
The laugh caught in her bruised ribs, but she didn’t mind the ache. She looked at his mouth. He saw her look and went very still.
“May I?” he asked.
The question threaded everything they’d just promised through its center. She let it sit a heartbeat, enjoying the absurd power of it, the honest want in his eyes, and the restraint that asked instead of taking.
“Yes,” she said.
He leaned in slowly, as if the air might break. When his lips touched hers, the kiss was gentle.
He drew back, forehead resting against hers, breath unsteady.
“Again,” she whispered, smiling.
He obeyed, leaning forward. His lips were urgent this time, hot and seeking. She matched his fire with the passion of her own, crawling to straddle him, hands braced on his muscular shoulders. With a low groan, he forced her mouth open, tilting her head to allow better access.
It was overwhelming. He was everywhere. Beneath her, surrounding her, the very air thick with his scent.
Her brain went foggy, her limbs loose and pliant. He, on the other hand, was all strength, all power. He surged forward, sitting up, hands dropping to grasp her waist.
She sucked in a sharp breath as his hips rocked upwards, growing hardness pushing against her core. The air grew hot and charged, the current between them swelling, the bond shining to life.
This wasn’t like last time. He wasn’t aggressive, insistent, or domineering. But there was no doubting his desire. Not when he carefully peeled her clothes from her, mindful of her hundred small hurts, his eyes raking over her naked skin like a man starved.
“Lie down,” he whispered, guiding her to her back. Her legs fell open, allowing him to kneel between them, his lips pressing soft kisses to her collarbone. Then her breast. Then lower.
She gasped as his lips found her inner thigh, stubble rough against the delicate skin. Breath ghosting over her core, he looked up at her, ice-blue eyes dark and stormy.
Then, he lapped his tongue through her folds, flattening it against her clit.
She groaned sharply, head falling back to the pillow, fingers finding purchase in his thick hair.
She’d never felt anything like this, pleasure shooting up her spine, overwhelming her mind, making her lose her senses.
He grinned against her, tongue flicking her clit, one finger slipping inside her, and pumping.
The two sensations crashed together, and she couldn’t help but squeal his name as an orgasm shattered through her, quick and sweet and overwhelming.
He stayed there, lapping up her pleasure, a smug grin on his face as he watched her come down.
She was too limp to resist when he flipped her over, too boneless to object as he pulled her hips upwards into the air, settling himself behind her.
His cock, hot and thick and impossibly big, pressed against her and she keened into the sheets.
His hand rubbed against her ass cheek, fingers grasping her flesh, his breathing ragged.
“Are you okay?” he said, his other hand reaching round to play with her clit again.
She nearly wept. “Yes! Yes, please, please, I need you!”
He didn’t need to be told twice.
With a grunt, he entered her, his enormous length stretching her muscles, forcing her to take it.
She went slightly cross-eyed, the pressure of this angle all too overwhelming. It was almost painful, but the rub of his fingers against her clit kept pleasure pulsing up her spine, down her thighs. She could feel him everywhere, all-consuming, as he began to pump into her.
“Fuck, you feel good,” he hissed, picking up the pace, the slap of his hips against her ass filling the room. “You’re so good, aren’t you? You’re so good for me. My good girl.”
His words shot straight to her core, and she pulsed around him, pleasure building, muscles trembling.
Without warning, he pulled out, rolling over and bringing her on top of him, straddling his hips. Her thighs trembled as she braced against his chest, trying to lift herself up. He grasped her and pushed upwards into her, thrusting into her, and she had to fight not to collapse into his chest.
Pressing her face into his neck, she tried to rock her hips, but he was too big, too strong, and her muscles groaned in protest. Instead, he held her hips still, pushing up into her. Her breath was damp and hot against his collarbone, her hands trembling where they grasped his shoulders.
With every movement of his hips, his pubic bone ground against her sensitive clit, sending sparks of pleasure skittering over her.
She whined out her second orgasm, lips brushing against his skin, teeth sinking into him.
He snarled, slamming harder into her, fingers kneading into the soft flesh of her ass.
He came hard, growling into her hair, arms pulling her impossibly close. She succumbed to the tidal wave of him, shuddering in his grip as he consumed her, filling her every thought, her every sense.
They lay together, panting in the aftermath, and she wished she could somehow get closer to him. That she could freeze this moment, stay in it forever.
She didn’t know what the future held. Hell, she wasn’t even sure about the next few days.
But in this quiet, beautiful moment, she finally felt whole.