Page 132 of The Alpha King's Curse: Part One

“Sit. You and I need to talk.”

While that woman was going after Jackson? Her heart hurt just thinking about it. And again, she knew that was ridiculous because Jackson was not hers, and she didn’t want him to be.

“Sit, Layla,” Dylan repeated.

It was her fault. She knew she was walking into danger but had left the bedroom anyway. She could have found other ways to spy.

“Okay, don’t sit. I don’t give a shit,” Dylan said as he walked over to a side cabinet and poured a drink into a shot glass. He downed it in one go before he faced her again.

And his heart was still beating hard. Because he knew Jackson wouldn’t like this? Hadn’t they planned her murder together? So why was he so uneasy?

“You need to tell Jackson you want to leave.”

“I have. Several times,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, right,” Dylan snorted. “You have him making decisions he wouldn’t normally make just to keep you here. Whatever you’re doing to him, just stop. I don’t buy that innocent victim bullshit. You’re a liability, Layla. You’ve already cost us a lot, and I can’t put up with it anymore.”

The women in the kitchen had spoken about someone being murdered, and then there was the fact that she didn’t know how Jackson had punished the men who had tried to rape her or the girls who had beaten her up.

But she was the victim here. She was the human they could all kill without a thought. How could she possibly be a danger to anyone?

“I’ve already tried to leave twice, and he’s brought me back. I don’t even know where the hell I am, and you’ve got my sister. I’ve been locked in a room most of the time. What am I supposed to do?”

Dylan’s head cocked to the side as if he was trying to gauge if she was telling the truth. Could they do that? She moved from one foot to the other as she nervously waited for his next move. Maybe her best option was to assume they were some sort of lie detectors as well as being able to tell how she was feeling. And they could hear her no matter how quiet she was. Could they hunt her like real wolves, too? She would have to be like a machine to fool them.

Dylan straightened, and the stern look disappeared from his face. Without the anger on his face, he looked very handsome. His dark hair was long at the top and short at the sides, and his body probably sent women’s hearts into overdrive. She’d never noticed his eyes were such an interesting shade of green. She hadn’t noticed anything about any other man besides Jackson because he consumed her from the moment she saw him in the hotel room.

Maybe all wolves had unique eyes like that. It was something she would always notice if she managed to leave this place alive. It would help her to keep her distance from them.

She watched him pour another drink before he walked over to a seating area in front of the conference table to sit down.

“You really want to leave?” he asked again.

Before Jackson had passed out, her answer would have been crystal clear. But with all these unwanted, unwelcome and confusing feelings she’d woken up with, she wasn’t sure anymore.

Still, there could only be one answer to that question.

“Yes. But not if it gets my sister hurt.”

Dylan swallowed his drink and then sat back.

“Then I’ll help you.”

Chapter 70

Jackson forced his eyes to open and immediately searched for Layla’s scent.

But it wasn’t her scent that filled his nose. The sickly sweet smell was familiar and too close to him. Way too close.

He turned his head to the source and found Dylan’s friend lying in bed next to him, looking down at him with that come-hither smile she’d had on her face when they had been introduced. The buttons of her shirt were undone so her breasts were showing. He'd been right about her intentions, after all.

He sat up quickly and regretted it instantly. Sleeping had helped him heal more, but he wasn’t back to his full capabilities yet. He was still too weak to fight this woman off.

“Get the fuck out of my bedroom,” he snarled.

Just the fact that she was lying down on Layla's side made him fume. Only Layla was meant to be there. They’d have to burn these sheets so he never had to smell that scent again.

And he knew this was another sign that he was already screwed. Though he could feel his wolf somewhere in his head recovering from their ordeal, these thoughts were his alone. There could never be anyone else in his bed again.

---