Page 11 of Bewitched

L ayla stared at the wall. She was tired, a little hungry. Her whole body ached. She could move but only slowly. She didn’t think Jaxon had Commanded her again, but she had lost time in there somewhere. She remembered his knot shrinking and the sudden rush of mess that flowed from her. There was an all-consuming hysteria, and she vomited.

Layla had come back to herself with her back against Jaxon’s chest. One of his hands held her wrists, and his other hand held a towel to her center. He had her head tipped back on his shoulder so she couldn’t see. Utterly mortified, Layla cried until she vomited again.

But exhaustion and Jaxon’s constant purring eventually won out, and he laid her down for a nap while he took away a load of filthy laundry.

His hand was bleeding. She thought she bit him. Good. She hoped it hurt. She hurt.

Layla was still leaking. She could feel it and smell it. Slick and cum. It wasn’t like the other time she’d had sex. Clean-up had been easier, and the scents had drifted away after a shower. Maybe that’s what she needed: another shower. It couldn’t hurt.

She stood on weak, shaking legs. She was dizzy, and for a moment, she didn’t recognize anything outside the closet. It was like stepping into a new world, like Narnia, only not so magical.

Jaxon’s den. Right. She wasn’t lost at all.

She pulled down one of Jaxon’s button-down shirts and put it on. It engulfed her, covering more skin than the dress she had worn to the party. Last night? Yesterday? When was she?

It didn’t matter right then. She was covered in sickening amounts of sweat, slime, and unidentified fluids. She needed a shower. At the very least, she needed to pee. Amid all the crying and puking, she hadn’t managed to piss herself, which was a miracle.

Layla used the facilities and brushed her teeth with a spare toothbrush she found in the medicine cabinet. She showered away the smells of vomit and Jaxon from her skin. She felt a little anxious at letting that last one swirl down the drain, but she dried off and put his shirt back on. Better. She smelled like him again.

Layla swallowed down a wave of nausea at the unhappy reappearance of slick between her legs. Couldn’t it just stop? Alpha had been inside her, knotted. Couldn’t that be enough for her stupid vagina? Obviously not.

She could only waste so much time puttering in a bathroom, so she shuffled to the living room. Nothing had changed. Couch. Table. Curio cabinet. She didn’t know what she expected.

Jaxon was in the small kitchen poking at his toaster, cell phone held to his ear. He was wearing gray sweatpants hung low on his hips. No shirt.

“She panics every time. I had to Command her so she wouldn’t hurt herself.” He wasn’t talking to her. He didn’t even notice her.

Jaxon paused, listening to someone on the other end of the call for a moment. “I know! She was trying to pull off my knot; you know the damage she could have done to herself. You were never like this.”

Layla glared. A dizzying swirl of anger bubbled up from somewhere deep and primal. He had knotted someone else. She knew it. And she was… not okay with it. Like the smell of other omegas on his clothes. She hated it. It was irrational. Jaxon shouldn’t mean anything to her.

He pulled out a fork and stabbed the toaster. “Way to stroke my ego, Kaiser. Do you tell Georgia that, too?”

Layla crept closer to the kitchen. Kaiser. Omega. Why was Jaxon talking to him? She hated him. She would kill him. Rip him apart. Jaxon was hers.

“I’m not leaving. I can’t.” He paused. “I haven’t.” Another pause. “For fucks sake, don’t tell your father. I don’t need that headache yet.”

Layla shuffled into the kitchen, the tile cool under her feet. She put a hand on the kitchen island, making sure she could stay standing. She was dizzy. She gave Jaxon her best glare, made sure he saw it.

Jaxon glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. “I have to go,” he said into the phone. “Go fuck yourself.”

Layla grinned, proud that she had gotten him to do something all by herself. She could make Alpha listen.

Jaxon stared down at her. He didn’t seem happy. Or mad. Or anything, really. That was annoying.

He looked her up and down, eyes lingering on his shirt. “Are you hungry? I’m making toast. You might be able to keep that down.”

She leaned against the island away from him and nodded. Maybe some food would do her good. She hadn’t eaten since… oh, since a granola bar in her dorm. A drink at the party. Did alcohol count as food?

The fluorescent lights buzzed unpleasantly in her ears. “How long have I been here?”

“About sixteen hours or so. It’s just past noon. Butter?”

She nodded. That was a long time. Wasn’t it? She couldn’t tell. Time wasn’t moving correctly. Every moment seemed like a small forever. The digital clock on the stove didn’t change.

Jaxon held the toast out to her, and she reached for it. He pulled it back with expectant raised brows.

Oh. He wanted to feed her. That was okay. Everyone liked being fed, even betas. She had seen it in a movie once. It was intimate.

Layla blushed, and when he brought the slice of bread forward again, she took a bite from his hand.

“Good girl.”

She ignored the thrill that went down her spine. She shouldn’t care. It was disconcerting. The whole thing was. She wanted it to be over. To get back to normal at her dorm and forget this whole interlude ever happened.

Slick trickled unpleasantly down her leg, tickling, reminding her of the itch deep inside. It would stop soon. It had to.

Jaxon narrowed his eyes and sniffed at the air. “You ready again?”

“No,” she said and shook her head. She didn’t want to go back in there with that heavy omega smell. She didn’t want to be pinned to the ground again, forced to accept him inside her again. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like how much she did like it.

“Layla,” he said warningly.

Layla cringed and wrapped her arms around herself. She was disappointing him again. That should feel normal by now. “Not yet,” she said. “I’m hungry. I’ll… I’ll say when I’m ready.”

Jaxon snorted like he didn’t believe her. “Alight, kitten. Don’t leave it too long; you’ll upset yourself again.”

He held out the toast again, and she took another bite. He took his own bite of bread and quietly chewed.

Layla looked away, and her eyes fell on the picture of her and Kaiser on the refrigerator. Kaiser . She wanted to bite him, and not in a good way.

“You slept with Kaiser Sorreto.”

Jaxon chewed slowly. He looked between the picture and Layla warily. “Aye. We went over this. It was a long time ago.”

Layla tamped down on the need to snarl. She wasn’t an animal. She could let her displeasure be known in a perfectly beta fashion. Not that she could think of any at that moment. “I don’t like him.”

Jaxon chuckled. “You liked him fine yesterday.”

Layla bit at her lower lip. Sure. That was yesterday before she knew Kaiser had lured her Alpha to his bed. No. Not her Alpha. Just Jaxon. He could sleep with whoever he wanted to, even omega whores like Kaiser. “Don’t let him touch you again.”

Jaxon grinned and leaned back against the counter. “Oh, making demands now? I could stay away from him, but who’s going to touch me instead?”

Layla frowned. That wasn’t what she meant. She didn’t want to touch him. Right? She stared into his eyes, steel gray. She couldn’t even see his scars as something frightening or separate from him anymore. He was just Jaxon. Maybe a little bit rude. Maybe a little bit alpha.

He took another bite of toast and just watched her. Waiting for her to make her decisions like he always did. Eventually, he would decide for her, but she didn’t want him to this time.

She extended a hand to touch his bare chest. Hair and scars. Rock hard muscle under soft skin. He was warm. Jaxon rumbled an encouraging purr.

It was pleasant, almost. It would have been if the shrill squawk of her mother’s voice wasn’t constantly in the back of her head. Beta’s didn’t act like this. Betas would be married. Courted. Not forced to couple and crave, but she was. Because she wasn’t a beta. She was an omega. A very broken omega with a tenuous connection to a very angry alpha.

She tipped her head back and looked at the bright fluorescent lights. She could hear them sizzle and pop. It flooded her ears until she could hear it in her skin.

Oh no, it was starting again. “I feel weird.”

“Kaiser said—“

Layla scrunched up her nose and closed her eyes. She didn’t need to hear what Kaiser said.

Jaxon chuckled. “He said that you would be confused and irrational throughout a lot of your heat.”

“Kaiser Sorreto is an asshole,” she said.

“No argument here, but he’s not wrong.”

She looked down and saw Jaxon again. Did he move? She looked around the strange room filled with boxy metal contraptions. She couldn’t remember what they were called. The big metal box began to hum, and she flinched. “Where am I?”

Jaxon’s hands came up and held her arms. The room stopped swaying. “You’re in my den.”

She stared at the alpha above her. He looked strange, like a funhouse mirror version of a friend. He was Alpha, but not. He was Jaxon, but not. She sniffed. He smelled like Alpha.

Worry crawled around her gut, but she pushed it away. Alpha said she would be confused. Maybe it was okay if she was confused. Would he get mad if she forgot who he was again?

The itch was slithering down her body, concentrating at her core. Her mouth itched. She was hungry. No, not hungry, but she wanted to sink her teeth into something. There had to be something in her nest for her to bite. Ooh, nest! Where did she leave that?

Layla tugged at Alpha’s hand and followed her nose toward her nest. It would be nice and dark, and the lights wouldn’t buzz, and everything would smell like Alpha, and he could scratch her itch and—

There was a thump outside the door. Alpha turned away from her. She didn’t like that. Layla tugged on his hand again.

Alpha stood still, rigid. He growled softly. Oh, not good.

Layla blinked rapidly and shook her head. She needed to stay present.

The thump came again, harder. “Jaxon,” a deep voice called. “Who do you have in there? I can smell her.”

Jaxon sucked in a gasp with an expression she had never seen on his face. Fear.

Something hit the door, and it rocked in the frame. “Boy! Let me in.”

Fear and adrenaline flooded Layla’s system, pushing back her arousal and clearing her mind. Everything came into sharp focus. There was a strange alpha attempting to break into Jaxon’s den.

Jaxon pushed at her, sending her swaying toward the bedroom. “Get in the back. Lock the door.”

Layla stumbled to the hall, but her knees were still wobbly and wouldn’t move fast enough. She fell against the wall and slowly slid down. “Jaxon,” she whispered, fear wrapping around her heart and nearly drowning her.

“Hide,” he growled.

Layla nodded, but she couldn’t get up.

The body hit the door again, and the door splintered from the frame. Jaxon cursed.

Layla clawed at the wall. She had to get up!

A huge alpha stepped into the apartment. He was taller than Jaxon. Wider. More heavily muscled. Axel Harlow. What was he doing there? Kaiser was supposed to keep alphas off their floor.

“What are you keeping to yourself, brother?” Axel asked, looking around the apartment. He didn’t seem concerned about Jaxon at all.

“You’re not supposed to be here. Kaiser quarantined the floor.”

He laughed, a sound so similar to his brother’s. “That bossy omega doesn’t command me. He said you found a needy little pet, and I had to see for myself.”

Jaxon growled. “Leave now, or I will kill you.”

“Haven’t I given you enough lessons about sharing?”

His stance was wide, shoulders rolled to attack, but he was only in his sweatpants. No weapons.

Layla squeaked, wanting to warn him, but only managed to draw Axel’s attention.

The larger alpha’s eyes widened, and his pupils enlarged, picking up more of her scent. “Look at you, pretty thing.” He turned to Jaxon. “You think you can keep her from me?”

She shook her head. He smelled like Mina, blood and smoke, but the smoke was wrong, choking wood smoke instead of pleasant charcoal. Wrong. She didn’t want this alpha anywhere near her.

“I think I’ll finally get to put you in the ground,” Jaxon said. He said it, but he didn’t mean it. His voice trembled.

Layla trembled, too. It couldn’t be like this. No more blood. No more death. No. No. No. She couldn’t catch her breath.

“Oh, she’s precious,” Axel said. “Have you fucked her yet? If you’ve had her, you have to share. Why keep her? She’s not going to let you bite her.”

Layla’s stomach lurched. She was going to throw up again. No bites. No bites from anyone, but that didn’t mean she wanted Jaxon to leave. Not with this alpha. Axel was a thousand times worse.

“No, please,” she begged.

“Quiet, precious, or I’ll have to find something to fill that mouth,” Axel said.

Layla snarled. She wasn’t supposed to growl at alphas, but she hated him.

“Last chance,” Jaxon said. His voice was thready, unsteady. Oh, no.

“Oh, boy, you’ve never been able to beat me,” Axel said, his eyes still on Layla. “She doesn’t want an ugly, filthy dog like you.”

Jaxon struck first. Too fast for Layla to see more than a blur before both alphas were over the back of the couch and she heard the coffee table crack and break.

She had to get up. She had to hide. Flee. Anything! But her limbs were still heavy and stiff. Her knee caught in her shirt, and Layla faceplanted into the plush carpet.

Axel laughed, deep and wild. “Damian’s not here to stop me now.”

“Aye, too bad for you,” Jaxon snarled.

Jaxon slammed into the curio cabinet. Glass and porcelain dogs spilled over the floor. He fell to the floor, his hands digging into the carpet. Blood dripping.

Layla had to do something. Instinct urged her to run, but she had spent her whole life ignoring the little voice in her head. She wasn’t a cowering omega. She wasn’t a whore to be passed around. She didn’t have very many choices, but she was going to make this one. She saved Rolland. She saved Georgia. She could save Jaxon.

She crawled into the kitchen with its irritating lighting and reached for the drawers. It had to be here. Her fingers found something sharp. A knife. Yes. Now just fucking stand!

Layla pulled herself up with the help of the island. The knife was long. Serrated. It might have been made for bread. It would cut well enough.

Axel held Jaxon up by his neck against the fireplace, his feet off the ground. He was bleeding from several cuts from the broken glass and a large bite on his bicep. Axel was going to kill him.

She balanced herself on unsteady feet. She would only get one chance. She was choosing her alpha, and it wouldn’t be this monster. Layla held the knife in front of her and ran. She threw all her weight into her shoulders, and the knife slid home into Axel’s lower back. Maybe she got a kidney or his liver. He definitely didn’t like it.

Axel turned on her with a hiss, dropping Jaxon. He grabbed her by the front of her shirt. Layla was overwhelmed by the sickening stench of smoke and blood, and she was almost glad he flung her away.

She hit the ground, and it hurt. It hurt so much. She couldn’t see anything clearly. It was all fuzzy, and the only sound she could hear was the sizzling pop of the lights.

Boots stomped toward her. A hand picked her up by the collar of her shirt. Axel’s face swam in front of her. She bared her teeth. He wouldn’t have her. She’d rather die than be his omega.

He slapped her. Hard. Her ears rang, and her face ached. “Bad omega. Fucking Nashes. I’ll beat that feisty streak out of you.”

She dug her fingernails into his wrist. She wasn’t bad. She wasn’t bad. She wasn’t bad.

Axel dropped her.

For a moment, she didn’t know what had happened; then she saw the broken blade of Jaxon’s antique sword slide through Axel’s neck. Blood poured down his chest like a waterfall. Layla could feel warm droplets on her skin.

She stared as the man fell, and Jaxon followed him down, pressing the sword into him until it cut through the carpet.

It was suddenly silent. She couldn’t even hear the lights.

Jaxon was covered in blood. His own. Axel’s. It was smeared across his bare chest. He stood, his eyes dark and wild, unseeing. Blood dripped to the floor from the tips of his fingers.

It was how he looked in the godswood. More animal than man. Only alpha instinct and anger.

She could smell his arousal. Potent enough to overwhelm the scents of anger and fear and the slowly thickening iron smell of blood.

He wasn’t Jaxon anymore, even to himself. He was something ancient and wild. An alpha that defended his den from an invader. An alpha that defended his omega.

Layla’s heart tripped, then raced. “Jaxon?”

He didn’t look at her. He sort of swayed, half aware.

She didn’t like this. She didn’t like being alone like this, covered in blood and afraid. “Alpha?” she begged.

Jaxon looked at her, but he wasn’t there. He cocked his head as if he just realized she existed. He growled.

Layla scrambled away. Her arms flopped heavily, and she wasn’t getting anywhere fast. She had to get away she had to hide. She crawled for her nest. It would be safe, except it wouldn’t. The nest was too open.

Under the bed. It was deep and dark and small, better than the closet. She was always safe under her bed. It was her favorite spot. It was tight and dark, barely enough room for her. She wedged herself as far back as she could get, close to the headboard and the wall. Jaxon would never fit. All she could hear were her own rapid breaths.

He’d calm. He would come back to himself. He had to.

Layla trembled. What had she done?

Jaxon came into the bedroom. He stomped to the closet and pushed the door open. Layla covered her mouth. He moved around the bed, checking the corners of the room, still growling. Oh gods, what was he going to do?

Layla trembled. She wanted him to leave. Everything had gone so bad so quickly. Her head hurt. She felt fuzzy again, and the itch in her core returned. Why was this happening to her? She needed to stay aware. Her eyes drifted closed.

Her eyes snapped open. Did she fall asleep? She lost track of him. Where did he go?

Did he leave? He might have left. She hoped he left.

A hand grabbed her ankle and pulled.