Chapter 6 - Protect Your Territory

Training didn't go well. After having bumped into Angel on his way to the men's restroom, he found he couldn't get her off his mind. It was almost

impossible to concentrate and he found that Jason was able to put him on his ass way too many times, more than he'd have cared to admit.

"Hey man, what's going on?"

Jason demanded even as he helped Layon back to his feet for the hundredth time, slapping him on the back in an attempt to dust him off. Layon quickly shook his head and swiped blood from

his nose where Jason had caught him with a nasty right hook.

"Don't tell me it's nothing because I've only ever put you on your ass a handful of times before today and now we're at a dozen!"

Layon gritted his teeth in order to stop himself from snapping at his second. It's not his fault I'm off my game, he quickly reminded himself, it's

hers.

"I'm sorry. There's something I've gotta do,"

Layon said, and with that he darted from the training field, dodging past the runners who were racing the outer track, and headed for the men's locker rooms.

"Hey, where's he going?"

he heard Lara yell from where she sat on the bleachers. She was dressed in her shortest shorts and a sports bra, meant to be running the track with everyone else, and yet Layon didn't even need to glance at her to know she hadn't broken a sweat. How could she? All she'd been doing was sharpening her nails and gossiping. It didn't help that he'd heard her mutter the words 'traitor's daughter' several times just the first half of his

training session.

"I'll find out," he heard Jason respond and in the next moment, he felt his second hot on his heels. Quickening his pace, he darted into the locker

room and yanked open his locker where he'd left most of his things. Luckily he hadn't locked it, as nobody would dare steal from Silverdale's prince. At least not yet. That might change if he didn't get his act together and acted as crappy in his challenges as he had during training that morning.

He'd barely pulled his rucksack and his leather jacket from the locker when Jason appeared from outside, looking flustered. The big guy wasn't great with cardio, something else that made Layon feel dreadful when he thought of

how bad his training had been. Jason was big and slow and he shouldn't have been able to walk all over him as he had. It's last night's liquor, he told himself firmly even as he turned, ignoring Jason, and began to race from the locker room.

"Hey, would you quit running away from me?" Jason demanded.

"Where are you going?"

To give Jason credit, he did his best to keep up, staying only a few paces behind Layon the entire time. Yet he just wasn't quite fast enough to

grab hold of him and yank him to a halt. Layon felt his fingers brush the back of his shoulder several times, bracing himself for a fight.

"I have somewhere I need to be,"

he called over his shoulder even as he slipped on his leather jacket, preparing to hop onto his motorbike that he'dvleft locked up out front. I have to see her, he added silently to himself even as he realized that was exactly where his feet and his actions were taking him.

They weren't taking him just to his bike, they were taking him to her. After the way she'd stormed away from him that morning, he was certain that she wasn't still on university grounds. There was only one place he would find her when she was that upset. At least, he hoped he still knew her well enough to know exactly where she would be.

"What do I tell Coach?" Jason demanded, yelling the words above the motorbike engine that Layon had just kicked into life, swinging on his

rucksack before dropping onto his bike.

"Whatever," Layon shrugged. "Just come up with something. I'll be back when I can."

"Layon, your dad is gonna be…"

Jason began but Layon didn't need to hear it. He knew exactly how his dad would be when he heard he'd skipped out on training and his lectures, but that didn't matter. All that mattered right now was making sure that Angel was alright. He wasn't sure what the hell was going on, but one thing he didn't doubt was that he wouldn't get her out of his system until he had faced her head on. He couldn't do that if she kept pushing him away or running away entirely.

Riding out on his bike, the engine roaring loudly, Layon ignored Jason's yelling for him to stop and tell him whatever was going on. There was no

stopping. It wasn't only him driving himself forward, it was his wolf. His every instinct was trained upon Angel and the fact she'd obviously been crying the last time he'd seen her. The urge he'd felt to protect her in the woods that morning when she mentioned being followed was back tenfold, and he felt as though she was practically calling to him. He could almost hear her wolf

howling to him, telling him to come to her.

Every rational thought was telling him to stop and turn around, to go back to training and forget all about the traitor's daughter. Yet with every time he tried to think of her as that and only that, his gut clenched just a little harder, reminding him that once she had been so much more than that, once she had been his sister's best friend and maybe even like a sister herself.

He tried to tell himself that he was going to check on her for his sister's sake, and yet deep down he knew it was more than that. As he whipped his bike through the streets of Silverdale, growing closer and closer to the woodland where he had met her this morning, Layon became more and

more certain that was where he would find her. He could picture her already, sitting beneath the branches of the weeping willow that hung over the surface of the lake, creating a little bubble of solace upon the lake shore where he and his sister and their friends had once made their den, playing pretend at being their own pack.

Back in those days Angel had been included, and there hadveven been a time when they would play pretend that he and she were the alpha and his mate. Those days were long gone and their friends had stopped going to the willow tree, but she hadn't. He'd smelled her scent there several

times over the years, even more so since her father's banishment.

Though he'd never caught her there, he was certain that was where she would be now. He didn't know how, he just knew, and he found himself hurrying to get there faster than he'd ever rushed anywhere before.

It wasn't until he began to draw closer to the woodland, drawing to the end of the street and pulling into the open dirt parking lot at the woodland's edge, when he began to ask himself, What the hell am I doing?

He had spent the last few years concentrating all his energy on becoming the next alpha, on making sure he was the biggest and strongest

and baddest werewolf that he could be to ensure his father's legacy remained intact. And yet now, after two innocent encounters with one forbidden redhead, he found himself risking everything.

If my father finds out I'm fraternizing with the enemy, he'll skin me alive, Layon realized, yet a part of him was even angrier at himself for

thinking of Angel as the enemy. She was just as much a victim of her father's actions as his father had been, if not more so. Lester Silverdale was stronger than ever, his legacy almost secured, and he never spoke of Axel. Yet Angel was clearly struggling every day to make ends meet, emotionally and physically drained.

Layon didn't have to guess how bad she was doing. He could see it and feel it coming off her in waves. My father might be a hard ass but when I'm alpha, things will be different, Layon decided.

Though he knew that was a long way off—he had to win his challenges and his father had to pass—it wouldn't stop him from at least trying to make Angel's life a little more bearable, even if it was only to soothe his own soul as she had clearly accused him the night before.

Fuck you, Angel! Layon growled to himself even as he killed the engine on his bike and climbed off it, beginning to race right in the direction of the lake and the willow tree. There was no way in hell he was going to let her push him away again. At least, not until he had gotten to the bottom of whatever was going on, not just with her but also between them.