10. Deal.

~ RAELIN ~

I am so going to fucking kill Wes after this.

His offer, our supposed offer, still awaits Layla's response. Silence hovers above all three of us. Five of us to be exact.

My Gamma Cal and his friend Derek are still waiting impatiently by the tree near us, their paws furiously scratching through the brown dirt on the forest floor.

I feel their annoyance, because I understand it myself too. My mate here is so fucking stubborn, a trait I both love and hate at the same time.

I can't deny that I don't love it more though. Back in the past when I was still desperate to find my mate, I had specifically told Selene that if she were to ever bless me with my mate, she shouldn't give me a liability.

Babysitting a dumb Luna is much worse than fighting off a thousand mad rogues, and if I am to ever have my Luna, she must be willing to stand by my side and be fearless to point out my faults if any.

I need a strong worthy Luna who won’t just cling to my every word and decisions like I am some perfect Lord Alpha.

“I... I don’t belong in your pack.” Layla finally responds, her voice faltering slightly. “I’ve never belonged anywhere apart from my family.”

“Where is your family now?” Wes asks. “We might even discuss—”

“My family is dead.” Layla cuts him off. “I am all that’s left of them now.”

I instantly loosen my grip around her arm, and for the first time, I feel like she is not lying or hiding anything from me.

“What about your pack?” I ask. “I believe rogues are—”

“I don't belong to any pack either. As you can see on me, I don't have any pack symbol branded on my skin.”

I chuckle. “All I can see are your tattoos, Layla. And they are fucking much.”

The tension in her eyes relax a bit at my playful tone. I swear the instant I rescued her that night and saw all those red and dark blue flower tattoos on her body, I was slightly taken aback.

The tats seem to be everywhere on her arms, her neck, her back, her chest...

I have never met any woman with so many tattoos on her body.

But I guess my mate is different. However, now that I am so close to her and admiring some of her tattoos now, I am also beginning to see some slight raised bumps of skin underneath those tattoos.

I can't resist tracing my fingers over them. “Layla, what are—?”

“Don't touch me like that!” She jumps away from me, her voice quivering.

Wait, is that fear I see in her eyes? She can't possibly be this afraid of me.

And those bumps, I don't want to believe that they are what I indeed think they are. In fact, I know what they are.

“That's it, Layla. You are staying with us.” My voice is low but firm and commanding. “You are staying with me.”

Her jaw tightens as she stays silent, and for a second, I begin to think that she is still going to reject our offer and damn the consequences.

Ever since the moment I started watching her in that cell, I keep noticing this defiance in her, a nasty spark that no amount of fear can snuff out.

It is infuriating, actually, but at the same time, I admire it. She is stubborn, but she is not stupid.

Her smart guts should know that they won’t be enough to keep her alive out here for long, not without a family. Not without a pack.

Her eyes are fixed now on some distant point beyond us, as if she is already planning on how to escape again. That assumption alone sends a surge of possessiveness through me, and I have to clench my fists to stop myself from grabbing her again.

I really don't want to force her to come back with me. I may be cold-hearted and all, but I am not that cruel. I believe that is why Cupcake still loves me.

“It's true that I don't like you, Layla.” I say with all honesty, even though this approach may not sound quite convincing for her to stay.

But I continue. “I don't even trust you, but Wes is right. You're my mate, and I want to respect this bond between us. I don't know why you were running that night, but you can't keep running forever. Stay with us. Stay with me.”

Done speaking, I wait for her answer. It took me every ounce of my strength and my will to utter those words to her.

Never in my life would I have believed before that I will be begging a rogue to stay in my pack.

But also, never would I have thought that a rogue will be my mate. And that, I believe, changes everything except the part that I don't trust her.

Layla looks at me like she is waiting to hear me say something else. When she doesn't get anything else from me, her eyes snap to Wes.

Wes is unmoving and unbothered by her curious staring. Sometimes, I like to think that Wes is the most cold-hearted one between the two of us.

He is just very good at hiding it. Also, he has never been intimidated by my temper, not once in all the years we have been running this pack together after our parents died.

He is my youngest and only brother. The only sibling I have. My Gamma Caleb is my cousin. Derek is family too, but they don't come close in comparison to Wes.

Wes is my fucking lifeline. The only major reason why I chose to stay sane after the loss of our parents.

Layla finally gives up on expecting anything more or different from the two of us. She exhales, her expelled breath so slow and shaky.

Her shoulders drop.

“Fine,” she mutters finally, “I’ll stay.”

The instant relief that floods through me is almost overwhelming, but I keep it locked down.

I am only doing this for the sake of my pack. To protect my pack. I still don't trust her, but I refuse to be pushed by my pride to reject her. I need all my alpha strength to continue protecting my pack.

She can keep hating me for as long as she wants, but she is staying with me.

“You made the right choice, Layla.” Wes says, nodding once before glancing at me. “Ray, are we keeping her in the packhouse or—”

“Yes of course,” I say immediately and stand up. “We need to continue keeping an eye on her.”

“You won't need to.” Layla winces as she helps herself to her feet. “A deal is a deal.”

I nearly flinch at her audacious voice and her unexpected compliance to stay with me. She walks past me and Wes, and I can't stop myself from noticing the raised bumps of flesh across the pale white skin of her middle back once again.

Those bumps of flesh are definitely scars. Her scars covered by her tats.

And those tats are many.

She stops walking and turns around. “Are you guys not going to lead the way back? I might consider running away again right now.”

I smirk. “No you won't. Let's go.”

Wes and I catch up with her. Caleb and Derek, still in their wolf forms, follow us behind.

If I am grateful for at least one thing right now, it will definitely be the fact that no blood was spilled tonight.

And no matter what, Layla is not running away again.

Not as long as I am willing to do everything I can to prevent it.