“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”
She kissed the top of Brit’s head and tightened her arms with a sigh, only to catch the stranger’s gaze on her in the rearview mirror.
His eyes were still cold as hell, but there was just something in them...
Before she could figure it out, he looked away and concentrated on the road. But now, all she could see in his eyes was anger. So much anger. What could she have possibly done to piss him off?
Chapter 8
She was still bleeding. The metallic scent of fresh blood assaulted Jax's nostrils, and the moment he stopped the car in front of the hotel, he shoved the door open and got out without looking back.
She’d been hurt, and all his wolf wanted to do was make her feel better. Take care of her as a mate should. The scent had Jax so wound up he had to ball his fists and concentrate on keeping Cain under control. It had taken everything in him not to chase after the last of the men who had taken her from her home and tied her up. He wanted to rip them apart like the others for daring to touch her. He hadn’t lost control like that in a long time.
If he gave in to Cain, the demented wolf would do just that. It would take little effort to hunt them down.
The attendants opened the hotel's wide double doors the moment they saw him approach the entrance. But he could sense Layla’s hesitation behind him as if somehow this cursed bond had already taken root even though he had no intention of marking her. He wasn't supposed to sense her emotions so easily yet. How was that even possible?
Though he didn’t want to, he turned back and looked at her with a raised brow. Layla still had her arm around her little sister as they waited at the bottom of the steps, and Dylan stood behind them with their bags. Britney. She was the only person Dylan had found that he could twist and turn to make Layla do what he wanted. The money he would offer would end all of Layla’s problems and get her out of this mess, but it was her sister she would accept it for.
“What is it?” he asked impatiently.
He wouldn't concentrate on anything else as long as he could scent her blood.
“I’m... I’m not allowed to use this entrance,” Layla said.
“They’ll make an exception this time,” he said as he turned back to walk through the doors.
It wasn’t too late, so the hotel lobby was a little more crowded than he wanted. Most of the guests knew who he was. He could smell their fear the second they saw him. Some he had invited to discuss the issue with the rogues in neutral territory. They all knew how he felt about humans, so the bleeding one following him was bound to raise eyebrows.
But he was banking on the fact that they wouldn’t have the balls to question him about her.
“Mr King.”
He hadn’t walked far through the lobby when he heard that irritating voice. It had been bad enough when the woman had been one of the maids. She’d always found a way to be assigned to his room. But now that they had promoted her, she was turning up everywhere like a foul smell. He didn’t think she’d even gone home since he had checked in.
“I’m busy, Miss Roberts,” he said without stopping.
The woman didn’t take the hint and quickened her step to walk beside him. No one in his pack would dare to do that - to walk beside him as if they were equal. This was another reason he couldn’t stand humans. They didn’t know their place.
“You’ve just missed the dinner service. Would you like me to bring something up?” Miss Roberts asked.
He could hear the hope in her voice. When he stopped over, he’d been known to have a woman or ten in his suite, but they were always wolves. Not that this annoyingly insistent woman would know that. She had no chance of being one of them, pretty as she was.
Cain growled in his head as if the thought of other women angered him, and that worried him more. He had known many mated wolves, but all the intense feelings came after the marking. This part was supposed to be easier. Just some sparks, just a pull to be intimate and cement the bond. But Cain was an asshole and always had to take things to the extreme.
That wolf knew better than anyone else why Layla couldn't be his. He had to know since everything was his fucking fault.
“If I need any food, I’ll call room service,” he said firmly. “But if I need anything cleaned, I’ll contact you.”
He didn’t need to look at her to know her displeasure at being reminded of her place, but her feelings were the least of his problems as he stopped at the elevators and pressed the call button. Layla’s wound didn’t need to be assessed by a doctor, but Cain behaved like she was bleeding out and on the brink of death. He would act out and expose them if they didn't get to his suite as soon as possible. Stupid wolf.
“Yes, sir,” Miss Roberts said, turning away.
He sensed the moment the meddling supervisor noticed Layla because of the tension that rose in the air.
“Layla, this is unacceptable. You know the rules, and you’re in no state to be seen at the front of the house. Our image is everything,” Miss Roberts said. “This is your third strike—”
Third? So typical of humans. They didn’t know the necessity of following rules and maintaining order. The young ones were always the most selfish and disrespectful.