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Lately we’ve taken to hanging out on her bed. It’s easier to stretch out here than on the smallish living room furniture in her suite that amounts to little more than an oversized love seat and two chairs. On the king-sized bed we can all lounge comfortably, which we do as we wait for Layla to finish getting cleaned up.
“I’m worried about her,” Landon admits. “She feels exactly what she said: hopeless.”
“I don’t know what to do about it.” Jared’s voice is equally concerned. “She isn’t even laughing at my jokes anymore.”
“To be fair, your jokes are lame. I don’t know why she ever laughed at them in the first place.” He glances my way in indignation and I wink to let him know I’m teasing.
“I know, guys, I’m concerned as well. But this is something she has to do for herself. We can’t force her into owning her destiny as alpha. We all know it, we’ve told her, but she’s got to believe it for herself.”
The door opens and Layla pads out, dark hair piled on her head and a few drips of water marring the light grey of her camisole. It has a matching pair of pink and grey leopard print shorts, and she looks adorably sleepy as she clambers over Landon to slide beneath the covers.
Something about Layla’s pajamas is endlessly fascinating to me. She doesn’t just sleep in her underwear, like we do. She’s got these cute little sets, special clothes for sleeping that are simple but still sexy with lacy details so they’re almost, but not quite, like lingerie.
We all agreed to take our time, be the best friends a girl could ask for, until she has time to settle in as alpha and starts feeling more from our connection. It is inevitable, with the strength our bond already has and how well we get along—she will see it too, in time.
That doesn’t help my eighteen-year-old wolf hormones that are screaming at me I’m inches away from my warm, sweet, deliciously curvy mate. Both Landon and Jared shift uncomfortably, pulling at their jeans in much the same way I’m adjusting.
Tonight Layla’s nervous, despite her exhaustion. She peppers us with ‘what-ifs’, an endless series of pointless questions, and at some point we all drift off without even an attempt to make up a bed on the floor or make the long drive home.
And I sleep more soundly than I ever have before, sharing a bed with my fated mate and the brothers who will form our family.
ChapterTwenty-Seven
Layla
* * *
Friday is the longest day of my life. The sense of dread is there the second my eyes pop open, despite the fuzzy feelings in my chest when I realize the guys are all fast asleep around me.
It only gets worse as we muscle through classes. Surprisingly I don’t see Amber at all, although there are plenty of other people, clearly Team Amber, that fill my day with dirty looks.
The guys head back to the house with me right after school, attempting to distract me during the long six hours until midnight. Even the household staff are in on it, apparently.
William’s making pizza tonight, and dinner has a festive party atmosphere as opposed to a more formal dinner, with everyone taking the night off.
They’re all excited, confident that I will put down Amber’s challenge and finally take my place as alpha.
I wish I felt the same.
It’s been a wild ride, from discovering I had family I didn’t know existed, to moving to Smoky Falls, finding out I shift into a wolf, have fated mates, and am destined to take over as alpha to protect every person who lives in this town.
A lot to take in.
But even though a big part of me still feels like an outsider, something deep within my heart of hearts knows this is where I belong. I felt it as soon as I crossed into the pack territory, even though I didn’t know what it was at the time. I felt it when I met the guys, my ‘fated’, and with each new person or experience, I feel myself woven tighter into the fabric of this place.
Even so I don’t feel ready for this challenge. It’s one thing to grow up knowing you’re meant to lead an entire community, preparing for it your entire life.
It’s another to have it thrust upon you, and be told you have weeks to prove yourself. I feel as if that’s a total recipe for failure, and the dark resentment swirls in my chest despite the surrounding celebration.
I resent my uncle for bringing me here without telling me anything about who I am or what this place represents. What this town expects of me. And then just taking off into the shadows, never to be heard from again. I thought I’d found my family, only to be ditched as soon as he shunted his curse off on me.
And I resent my parents, who ran away from this place, raising me to be completely ignorant of who they really were and where I truly belong. On some level I get it, mom was seventeen and didn’t want to live her life cursed to stay in a small town in Tennessee forever. They were escaping the curse, I get that.
But to deny me the knowledge of who I am, who my family really was, is an entirely different kind of cruel. Because she had to have known that eventually it would catch up to me. She even named me after herself, giving me the Harridan name, instead of my father’s last name or a total alias. Somewhere deep inside, she expected me to come back here.
Mostly, I resent she ran away at all. It was selfish to leave the running of the pack to her brother, who she knew had no fated mates, no way to extend the line.
Did she intend for the entire community to die out when there was no longer a Harridan to helm them? She had to have known the story Roxanne relayed to me, about the magic and the importance of the Harridan bloodline. It seems the ultimate selfish act to value your own freedom over the lives of thousands of others.
