All Chapters of Inlove with the Supposed enemy : Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

" You really suppose this is the right thing to do?" Tyrrell's voice sliced through the silent room, concern etched upon his words as he paced across the room, his hands strained at his sides, his knuckles white from the restraint of keeping them still.Layla did not turn to him incontinently. She had been looking at the door, staying. He'd promised to meet her tonight. In the quiet moments, her thoughts churned. The visions, the whispers, the power coursing through her- it was each too important. But the only way she was going to understand it was by reaching out to the one person who sounded to know something about it. The only one who had appeared during the fight, the one who had given her those cryptic words that dallied like an itch she could not scratch." I've to, Tyrrell," Layla said vocally, her voice pigmented with query, yet resoluteness. She eventually faced him, her eyes heavy with the weight of the decision she had made." I can not keep pretending that I've everything f

Layla woke with a jolt, her breath coarse and labored, the echoes of the dream still rattling her veritably bones. She sat up in bed, her heart pounding against her caricature pen like some kind of crazy war barrel. The room was pitch black, save the dim moonlight that managed to slip its way through the curtains. She turned a regard at Tyrrell, who lay sleeping serenely beside her, his chest rising and falling in regular intervals. She begrudged the peace that always sounded to shirk her." Again," she murmured, her voice low, running a hand through the tangles of her hair. The dreams, they noway stopped. With each passing night, they came more pictorial, more pertinacious, drawing her further along a path she was n't at each certain she wished to traipse.Always that figure stood in her life altitudinous, covered by murk, with a voice deep and foreboding; he spoke to her in mysteries, each one making her skin bottleneck. It had formerly told her she was meant for something bigger, m

" You do not understand," Layla rumored, her voice slightly holding the fluctuate. All this the weight of her powers, the prophecy, the impending battle- was too important to bear alone. She stood at the window, a witness as the horizon darkened with each passing minute the sun traveled further west." It's noway been about us. It noway was."He stood a many bases down, his arms crossed over his casket as he watched her with an intensity she could not read. His silence only served to make the pressure between them heavier, thickening it, suffocating. She could feel the gap between them grow wider, every fleeting moment reminding her of the distance that had crept in since she would first learned the truth about her role." You are right," Tyrrell eventually said, his voice softer than usual." I do not understand it, and perhaps I noway will. But I do understand that I am losing you, Layla." His words were like a gut punch. The look in his eyes- pained, frustrated, defeated- nearly shat

" You’re allowing too important again."Layla slightly squinched at Tyrrell’s voice, though she had n’t noticed him approach. She was sitting on the edge of the small rustic veranda outside the pack house, her arms wrapped approximately around her knees. The night air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth, but she slightly felt it.Tyrrell sat down beside her, near enough that their shoulders brushed. He was warm — he was always warm, like the fire that had burned inside him since the day she met him.Layla exhaled." It's hard not to suppose when everything feels like it's teetering on the edge of something we can not see."Tyrrell leaned back on his hands, tipping his head toward the sky." That is the problem with prophecies. They make you believe the end's formerly written."She turned to him, lowering ." You do not believe that?"He signed, eyes still on the stars." I believe we make our own choices. And I believe you are stronger than whatever's trying to pull you i

" You gon na keep standing there, miscarrying, or are you actually gon na say something?"Layla's voice cut the tense silence between them. She stood by the window, arms crossed, her expression half- recalcitrant, partial-expectant. The dim night danced across her features, catching the keen edge of frustration in her eyes.At first, Tyrrell said nothing. Standing near the door, one hand pressed against the rustic frame, he was tight- jawed, as if holding back something physical outside. The air of control, that sureness which sounded to bolster him, was n't there. He was a man standing on the edge of a cliff, importing up whether to jump." I did not want you to find out like this." His voice was low, a quiet, nearly to himself rather than to her.Layla laughed humorlessly." Oh, so you were planning on telling me? When, Tyrrell? After it was too late? After everything was set in stone and I did not have a say-so in my own damn fate?"His eyes cut to hers, sharp, agonized." It's not l