Fight for Me

The next morning

Feeling a gentle breeze against her temple, Layla slowly opens her eyes, to find herself pressed against a firm and very naked chest.

They’re both still lying on the carpet, but there’s a throw-over barely covering her, let alone both of them.

She knows she’s in Nick’s arms, and she can’t help but look up and stare at his sleeping face. Even though she knows him to be stern half the time, to just be completely calm the other half, right now, he seems more than just calm.

His chocolate brown hair is ruffled, but so smooth, it makes her want to run her hands through it. His lips are slightly parted, and his dark stubble outlines them perfectly. Though, he still has that ever present wrinkle in his brow, like someone forever worried or stressed out.

But then again, it is the first time that she has the chance to just look at his face this up close.

She wiggles a bit, trying to get out of his hold, but he just grips her tighter. So tight, she can almost feel it.

Ever since she ‘revived’ last night, her body has become completely numb. She couldn’t feel anything, not even when she was jumping out the window or tumbling in the mud with Nick. From the way her sense of feeling has been numbing, she knew it would only be a matter of time before she wouldn’t be able to feel anything at all one day. She just never thought it would have been this soon.

But feeling Nick’s tight grip on her, makes her feel,….present. Like she’s actually here and not just drifting along, like she has basically been doing with her life for the past few years.

But with how her breaths are shortening and slightly quickening, she notices how her breasts are heaving against his chest with how tightly his pulling her to him. She wiggles again and gently pushes against him, to just get more room and air to breathe.

But she’s frozen in place when his eyes shoot open and he’s staring at her with those deep and troubled hazel eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He asks sternly, but keeping his tight hold on her.

“I just,…..I need some air to breathe.” She says with an awkward giggle as she tries pushing away from him again.

Hearing her panting tone, he immediately but slowly unlocks his arms around her.

She wiggles out of his hold completely, and seeing the distinct wrinkles on her silk pyjamas, she can only guess that he must have held her like that through most of the night.

He immediately sits up next to her and pulls her against him, not wanting to be too far from her.

And even though, she thought she wouldn’t like others touching her or being so near her, after what happened last night, she doesn’t feel repulsed by Nick’s actions at all.

It annoys and frustrates her.

When she was lost in that realm, that thing, that so-called-man, hurt her. He almost raped her. And there are obviously no physical signs on her as proof of her assault. And she knows he technically didn’t touch her real body, but it still felt real.

Not only does she not have wounds or bruises, but she also doesn’t seem to have any of the expected emotional side effects. It’s almost like it never happened. And it did!

Layla yelps as Nick suddenly pulls her into his lap and in another tight hold, burying his face into her nape.

“You’re safe here.” He says roughly but softly against her neck.

She smiles guiltily, at his repeated phrase, but also knowing that she’s misusing this wonder of a man. He has really proven her wrong. Not only is he actually caring, but he’s also thoughtful. She didn’t think he ever cared about anything or anyone. He was always so distant, with everyone. So cold.

Though, nothing of him really ever made her feel cold.

But now, she sees him differently. He stayed here with her, the whole night through because,………because of something he doesn’t even know much of, just to make her feel safe. And now he keeps pulling her into his arms whenever he wants to reassure her she’s safe.

She’s starting to think that this is probably the only thing he can think of to calm her down. But she’s not going to complain being caged in his rigid muscles. They do make her feel warm and giddy.

She looks up at him, but he still keeps her caged in his arms and on his lap.

“We need to talk.” She sighs out.

But she’s met with silence, as if he’s assuring her to continue.

She lightly rolls her eyes. Only he can talk without actually saying anything.

“The attack last night……..I didn’t know,….” She struggles to find her words. “I didn’t know the hunters were behind the rogue attacks.” She’s met with more silence and continues to ramble. “I didn’t think they were still after me. I’m sorry for having brought them here. For putting your pack in danger. And about me,…now that everyone saw,…..I just got more unwanted attention on me. And now you’re keeping me here, as a prisoner, or to punish me for all the trouble I caused. But I can’t stay here. That will just bring more trouble to your pack. They know I’m here, and they know-,” that I’m hiding something. She sighs shifting her focus on her fidgeting fingers. “They won’t stop until they find me. I never should have come here. None of this would have happened. I’m better off on my own.” She whispers the last part, convinced she’s talking to herself with the continued silence.

“You’re not leaving.” A raspy but stern voice finally breaks her monologue.

She looks up surprised, and almost gasps as she gets a glimpse of his wolf, seeing his hazel eyes glow with a golden shimmer.

Was that his wolf or him speaking?

“What do you mean? I just told you why I can’t stay here. It’s dangerous. You can’t keep m-“

His loud sigh interrupts her and she stares at his troubled expression, as if he finds it very, very difficult to voice his thoughts. She bites her lips into a thin line, trying to keep herself from smiling and stop whatever rambling might follow out her mouth.

She needs to start practicing his level of stoic muteness, if she wants him to continue and actually speak his mind.

Which has her thinking. –Is this why he’s always so quiet whenever we’re supposed to have a ‘conversation’? Cause it always just ends up with me shooting my mouth off.

He clenches his jaw before speaking. “You are my mate.”

With that single phrase she stays quiet, hoping for him to continue or at least elaborate. But he doesn’t, as if that one phrase is supposed to answer for everything.

She remembers how he confessed to her the night before that he wants her, and that she never actually gave a response. But she didn’t want to give an answer. She didn’t want to feel obligated to give one. But now it seems she has to. But his ‘answer’ has her thinking.

“About that. How is it that our bond isn’t broken? You told me yourself that it was gone and couldn’t feel it anymore.”

He takes a steady but very deep inhale as he searches for his words. He dreads having to have a conversation, but hates the idea of not having this one at all more.

“I was foolish.” He clenches his jaw, clearly angry with himself. “I spoke of something I didn’t know much about. But,….we never rejected each other,….officially.” He puts emphasis on the last word.

Layla can’t hide her surprised look. “Officially?”

She never knew that was necessary. But then again, everything regarding supernaturals always followed a certain process or required specific elements, as if fulfilling a ritual.

She looks up at his waiting face, with that stressed wrinkled in his brow digging deeper than usual.

She opens her mouth to speak, but he quickly covers her mouth with his large palm as he grips her hair with his other hand, holding her head firmly.

“Don’t.” He almost sounds desperate, but the glow in his eyes and the firm grip on her shows his determination. “I won’t let you reject me.” He says with finality in his voice.

Her confused and annoyed look doesn’t go unnoticed by him. She starts pulling at his fingers trying to get his hand off her mouth, eager to voice her frustration at him. But he doesn’t relent.

“You are mine.”

He very slowly loosens his grip on her, which to her annoyance, forces her to calm down.

“I know I pushed you away. I thought I was protecting you. And myself.” He removes his hand, and she remains calm, wanting him to talk.

This is the most he’s ever spoken to her, and most likely ever will. But she wants to hear more. Anything that will let her have a closer look at what is going on in that mysterious mind of his.

His hand brushes down her cheek, firmly grips her neck and focuses on her calm pulse. His hand moves further down, trailing her pulse and stops right above her breast, -her heart. She almost senses something, like she’s getting,…-warm? With her screwed up senses, she’s not sure anymore.

“This,…..isn’t just the bond.” He says as he takes her hand in his other and rests it on his own chest. “It’s not just lust. I don’t know what it is. Love maybe? I never understood the word. But this is clearly not temporary.” His eyes glow again as his grip on her hand tightens. He sighs deeply. “I know you gave your heart to someone else. But I know this heart-“ his thumb lightly brushes over her chest, “has fluttered for me. I will win it back.”

He stops, breathing somewhat unsteadily, as if out of breath for speaking so much.

Layla, though, is flooded with a range of emotions. She’s confused, not knowing what to make of this honest side of Nick. She doesn’t want to jump from one guy to the next, like she has some dependency issue. Which she knows she doesn’t have, as she has been taught how to survive on her own her whole life. But these damn flutters Blake and Nick have been giving her, made her consider differently.

And she is irritated Nick still talks as if she can’t do anything to change his mind. Yes, he’s an alpha, but everything doesn’t have to always go his way.

She doesn’t know what to say or do. Staying was never an option. She was always going to leave and go to Blake’s. But that’s clearly not an option anymore.

As she looks up, she sees him somewhat distracted, but with his glowing eyes she’s sure he must be getting a mind-link.

Sighing he looks back into her eyes. “There are some duties I need to get to. But,…..we will continue this talk later. I won't be too far, so if you need me you can just call me.”

She gently nods, realizing all the things he must probably get sorted with the attack that happened last night. He pulls her up as he too stands up, ready to leave.

“Wait.”

He looks back at her.

“W-what does this mean?” She waves her hands around the room. “Am I allowed to leave this room? Is Margret going to have to keep an eye on me again? I mean, you made it clear that I’m not allowed to leave,……anytime soon, until we have our talk, right? Am I like a prisoner now, or what?” He breath shakes, not understanding what is actually happening around her.

He grunts, walks to her and pulls on her arm. “You are my mate.” He rubs his thumb over his mark on her wrist, which has her feeling more than just warmth, but,….tingles. “And everyone here will treat you as such. Go where you want to around the pack grounds. I will come find you later.”

With that, he turns and leaves her alone in the room.