All Chapters of Inlove with the Supposed enemy : Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

The wind carried the scent of damp earth and fading embers as Layla stood at the edge of the ruined battleground. The land was quiet now, stripped of the chaos that had consumed it just days agone . The bodies had been buried, the wounded tended to, but the weight of what had happed still pressed down on her like a gravestone on her casket.A voice broke through the silence.“ You’re not sleeping, are you? ”Layla did n’t turn. She knew Tyrrell’s voice anywhere, low and steady, carrying that familiar blend of concern and frustration.“ Did n’t feel like it, ” she admitted.He stepped up beside her, near enough that his warmth brushed against her skin, but not near enough to touch. He knew better than to crowd her when she was like this.They are upset about you," he said eventually.Layla let out a shriek." Who? The pack?"Tyrrell jounced." Kai. Sienna. Hell, indeed Dorian, and we both know he slightly worries about himself, let alone anyone differently."She felt a flash of amusement

"You're avoiding me."Tyrrell's voice was calm, but Layla could hear the edge beneath it.She didn't look up from where she was kneeling, her fingers tracing patterns in the dirt. "I'm not avoiding you," she muttered.Tyrrell scoffed. "Oh? So the fact that you've been conveniently 'busy' every time I try to talk to you is just a coincidence?"Layla blew out a soft breath, standing and dusting the dirt from her palms as she did. She knew this was coming-had known for days. Tyrrell had been watching her too closely, catching every time she slipped away, every time she deflected.He wasn't wrong.She was avoiding him. Avoiding this."There's too much to do," she said instead, brushing past him. "The pack needs-""Stop."She froze.Tyrrell didn't order her around. He gave her her space, her time. Now, his tone didn't take any argument.She turned back to him more slowly. He had crossed his arms over his chest, and his jaw was set. The golden eyes were not angry but determined."I know you

"You’re quiet," Tyrrell said, his voice low but steady.Layla stood at the edge of the ridge, the wind teasing through her hair, eyes fixed on the horizon. The sky was painted in shades of deep violet and orange, the last remnants of daylight sinking into the mountains beyond."I’m thinking," she murmured.Tyrrell stepped closer, his heat a quiet reassurance beside her. "Dangerous habit," he teased, though his tone held something softer. Something knowing.She huffed out a small laugh but didn't take the bait. She turned into him, her eyes searching his. "Do you ever wonder if we were meant for this? Or if we just keep getting pushed into places we don't belong?"Tyrrell studied her a moment longer, his face impassive. Then, he blew out a breath. "Honestly? I don't think it matters."Layla's frown deepened. "What do you mean?"He cocked his head slightly, looking back down at the silent settlement below. The pack moved like shadows in the growing gloom, warriors finishing their nightl

The moon was low in the sky, casting a pale light over the camp as the normal night sounds failed into an uncanny silence. Layla had just finished her rounds, checking in with the colourful leaders, when the call came. A single figure, stumbling and crippled, had appeared at the borders.First to move was Tyrrell, who hastened to meet the stranger. By the time Layla reached the clearing where the figure had collapsed, she could see the damage the man was slightly holding onto life, his clothes torn, his face haggard and pale. His breath came in shallow gasps, each one further simulated than the last." What happed to him?" Layla blotted while she kneeled beside him and Tyrrell dragged back the cloak that shrouded this man's body.The eyes heaved ajar, and after a bright flutter, their regard rested shortly in Tyrrell as they changed also to rest in Layla's. slightly did they fluctuate at each, and he spoke still-clear." A storm is due. darkness bound. seeking everyone. for each pack.

Layla's breath caught as the dagger flashed toward her throat. It was a blur of tableware, too presto, too sharp. For one heart- stopping second, she allowed it was each over. But also, a hand — strong, presto, and incredibly close slammed into the wrist of the attacker, transferring the dagger spinning harmlessly into the dirt.Layla!" Tyrrell's voice broke through the adrenaline haze; his hand gripped her arm with a fierceness that would have broken bones if it were anybody differently. He yanked her backward just as the assailant stumbled, recovering from the failed strike.Layla's heart was contending, but her head was still overdrive, comprehending what just happed. A baffled assassination attempt. Then, right at the heart of their camp, an assassination attempt had been made. The man standing before them was not any arbitrary mischief- his movements had been precise and advised. He knew exactly what he was doing.Tyrrell stepped in front of her, his body a guard." Who transferre