Page 20 of Cruel Mate

Their enemies were growing closer with every second they wasted trying to figure out what to do.

If he called for help now, he’d only alert their enemies to their exact location. And with how far out they were and the direction the wind was blowing, there was no guarantee that Jack and the others would even hear him.

They were on their own.

Turning, he dropped back down onto the ground beside Layla and said, “Put your arms around me.”

Layla scowled at him. “I’m naked.”

“And? Would you rather me feel your naked breasts on my chest or have us both ripped apart by hell knows how many wolves?” he growled at her, holding out his arms.

“Breasts?” Layla grumbled, clearly delirious with pain if she didn’t understand the gravity of the situation.

Without waiting for her to make a decision, Zander scooped her up into his arms and growled, “You’re a messenger. You must know this place like the back of your hand. Is there anywhere we can hide out and lay low around here?”

The growing howling appeared to strike fear into her heart, and she wrapped her arms around him, pressing those very lovely breasts against his chest as she glanced around in an attempt to recognize where they were.

“That way!” she said, inclining her head in the opposite direction from town. “There’s an old outpost cabin some of us messengers still use to rest overnight if we need to.”

A cabin sounded better than nothing, so Zander darted off with her in his arms, trying his hardest not to think too hard of either their nakedness or the fact they had never been this up close and personal before.

It was only when they reached the dilapidated old cabin that Zander realized Layla had passed out. Her head lolled against his shoulder, and as he hurried up onto the porch of the cabin, he took a single second to admire her.

Unencumbered by consciousness, Layla was beautiful, astonishingly so. And without her usual look of disdain, Zander saw much deeper than he ever had before.

With her warm body still wrapped safely in his arms, he realized something that terrified him. This urge to keep her safe was more than pack loyalty. It was more than duty. It was fate.

Scared by the realization, he tried the door handle of the cabin and barely managed a sigh of relief when it opened.

Their enemies were still close. Though they had grown quiet in their search as he had zigzagged through the woods, going only off the weakening directions Layla had given him before she blacked out, he could sense them still.

He could only hope all the tricks he had learned during his time in the army would be enough to keep them safe. If they were gone long enough, Jack and the others would notice. They would come looking, because they weren’t just his friends, they were his brothers in arms. He could only pray they would realize soon enough.

Holding Layla in one arm, he locked the cabin using the deadbolts and chains that decorated the inside of the door before he carried her over to the single cot on the far side of the small room.

The place was dusty beyond imagining. It was clear it hadn’t been used in a while. But it might be just what they needed to live. The thick wooden walls would defend against teeth and claws and the windows were shuttered tight.

They were safe for now. At least, Layla was. Zander wasn’t so sure that he was. Laying her on the bed, he crouched over her and brushed strawberry-blonde hair from her face.

Just looking at her again, he couldn’t deny it. What he had felt out on the porch had been right. She belonged to him as more than packmate to packmate. His soul had connected to hers, and whether she knew it or not, she was his. She was his fated mate, and if he died in this cabin trying to protect her, so be it. He would never leave her side again.

Chapter 8 - Layla

Wh…where am I?

That was the first thing that came to mind when Layla finally managed to reclaim consciousness. She had been in and out of it for what felt like hours, glimpsing the canopy of trees overhead, Zander’s concentrated face close to hers as he carried her through the woods.

She remembered all too well the pain in her knee. It still throbbed now, and she used her consciousness to zero in on that feeling, using it to fight the exhaustion that still plagued her.

It took all she had in her to shuffle into a sitting position and run her fingers through her loose hair, trying her hardest to recall the events of the last day.

Pine Valley. The enemy wolves. The attack. Running. Twisting her knee. The familiar squeaking of that top step on the cabin porch.

Slowly, it all came back to her. And then—Zander!

Her eyes flew open with a start. The dusty scent of the cabin was familiar. The fire crackling in the hearth was familiar, too. They did not set her teeth on edge or her heart hammering in her chest.

The sound of the old shower in the bathroom beyond the main room drew her attention. He was still here. He hadn’t left her. Somehow, she had believed he would.

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