Page 12 of Bewitched

L ayla clawed at the carpet, but it was no use. Jaxon was stronger. He pulled her from under the bed and stared at her. His eyes were blank, emotionless, only instinct. He held her by her ankle, trapped in his viselike grip.

He was smeared in blood, Axel’s, and his own cuts and scrapes. Red streamed down his back and sides, staining his sweat pants brown-red. There was nothing in Jaxon that reminded her of the demanding alpha that took her in. The forceful carer who saw her through her worst moments in recent memory. This was an alpha that was going to kill her. Drag her into her own nest and rip her apart. She’d die at her Alpha’s hands, just like Summer.

Her heart skipped and stuttered. She couldn’t let him hurt her.

Layla kicked at his wrist with her other foot, slamming her heel into the soft joint. Jaxon yelped and dropped her leg. She tried to scramble away, but he grabbed her shirt, pulling her up and slamming her on the bed.

Layla hit the mattress hard enough to bounce and drive the breath from her lungs. She couldn’t even scream. She wrapped her arms around her stomach in an attempt to protect herself. Her shirt rode up on her waist, exposing her lower half, and Jaxon grabbed her hips, holding her still and smearing blood across her pale stomach.

Nausea swirled on the edge of her being, her vision tilted and swirled. Her brain felt like it was vibrating in her skull. She needed to get a grip, hold onto something solid before she flew apart.

Jaxon pulled her arms away and grabbed her shirt, ripping buttons from their threads and stripping her bare. She slipped from the sleeves and backed away from him over the bed.

Layla got her feet under her, toes sinking into the mattress. She crouched close to the headboard, holding onto the wood to keep her balance. She tried to get air back into her lungs — oxygen in her blood — but it wasn’t working.

Jaxon dropped the shirt to the floor and growled.

She scowled. How dare he?! She defended the den, her nest, just as much as he did. He didn’t get to growl at her. Layla panted and bared her teeth. It’s what Mina would have done, and she needed some alpha bravado right now. It wasn’t threatening with the way she was wheezing, but she wasn’t going to let him drag her around like a pup! Absolutely not.

Jaxon paused. He cocked his head as if he was seeing her for the first time. She hoped he did. She hoped he would come back to himself because she didn’t know how long she could hold herself together.

The confusion turned into a scowl, then a glare, anger overtaking him. Jaxon sneered. “You wanted him, didn’t you?”

What? Axel? She hated him. He was no true alpha. He was a monster, and for that, she put a knife in his back.

Layla shook her head, but he wasn’t paying attention.

“The little beta-wannabe wanted a better alpha, but now she’s stuck here with the filthy dog.” Jaxon glanced out the door. “Do you know what he would have done to you?”

She shook her head, drawing away from him. She didn’t need to know. That look in Axel’s eye was enough.

“He’s had three mates. That’s what he likes to do. Bite them and terrorize them. He said he could taste their despair. My loving brother.”

Layla could barely hear him, dizziness sweeping her away for a moment. She held on to the headboard as tight as she could. She couldn’t fall.

Suddenly, Jaxon was closer, on the bed, on his knees in front of her. She gasped.

“You think that’s what I want. You think that’s what I’m like. I can smell your fear. I tried, kitten.” He ran his sticky red fingers over her ribs to her hips. “I tried so hard to be your good alpha. Keep you calm; let you nest. Make sure you didn’t want for anything. And you reject me.”

Layla’s lip trembled. It wasn’t like that. She was so confused. It wasn’t like that at all.

“That’s alright, I’m used to it. I’m always the afterthought. A pet. A beast to be kept on a leash.” His fingers pressed into her flesh, leaving painful bruises.

Layla whimpered.

Jaxon leaned over her, bringing his face close to hers. “Where’s my leash now?”

She lashed out before her senses caught up with her. Her palm cracked across his cheek. Layla jerked back, surprised at her own audacity. She would never think… she had never slapped anyone before. She had never wanted to.

He stared at her, his eyes large and surprised, as his cheek reddened. His hands went slack on her body.

If Layla had any sense, she would have run, but no one ever accused her of being smart. She could only grasp the sinking sense that she was in more trouble than she had ever been in before. That she had hurt her alpha on purpose.

“Jaxon, I—“

He grabbed her face with both hands. His massive palms surrounded her neck and cheeks. He tipped her head up, and she stared into his haunted gray eyes. His hands shook as he held her still.

She grabbed his wrist but didn’t try to pull him away. He smelled of anger and sorrow. She could tell the difference now. He looked tired. It was a tiredness that settled in the bones. She felt the same, too, some days.

Layla reached for his face and touched the mark she had left there. “You’re a good alpha.”

Jaxon made a noise deep in his throat, something between a denial and a laugh. It wasn’t a pleasant sound.

She slipped her hand around his neck and caressed the scent gland under his chin. He closed his eyes and sighed. His breath hitched. Layla tugged him closer, and he followed, bringing his head down. She could smell the pheromones on his breath. Cinnamon. It made her mouth water and her core clench. Gods, she wanted him.

She pressed her lips to his. Jaxon groaned, clenching her tighter, twisting his fingers through her hair. He took over the kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth.

Why hadn’t she kissed him before? He tasted like butter and blood and cinnamon. Pheromones and flavor free-flowing between them. He tasted so good. She moaned and dug her fingernails into his scalp. She never knew it could be this good, just from his hands in her hair.

She pressed herself against him. She wanted to feel more of him, burrow inside. He wasn’t close enough. She tugged at his hair and bit his lip.

Jaxon yelped and pulled back.

Layla didn’t let him get far, pulling his hair as he had pulled hers. He hissed. She had never felt more powerful, more in control in her whole life. She giggled.

Jaxon smiled — half snarl — and ran his hands down her sides to her thighs. He pulled her to him, grinding against her. She could feel his erection against her stomach. “Something funny, omega.”

Her mouth flooded with saliva. She wanted to bite him, sink her teeth in until he cried. She never wanted to hurt anyone before, but she wanted to hurt him. She didn’t understand it, but she spent so many years denying every instinct. She was going to let this one free.

“Mine,” she snarled.

“Yes,” Jaxon gasped and picked her up.

His big hands spread her thighs and settled her over his hips. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding on tightly. She kissed him again, nipping at his lips. He moaned and tugged his pants down. She tried to help but only managed to kick him until he growled into her mouth. That made her groan, slick filling and dripping from her.

Jaxon grabbed a thigh in each of his hands and lifted her up. His cock was at her center, begging entrance.

Layla gasped and lifted herself up, holding her weight off him. If she let him in, she was doing this on purpose. She would have sex with an alpha because she wanted him, not driven by madness and need. He supported her as he waited for her decision. She stared into his eyes, soft and open. Wondrous.

“Jaxon,” she whispered.

She let herself sink down, his cock opening her as she slowly relaxed onto him. It shouldn’t have felt good. It should have been a horror, covered in blood and bruises as they were, but the horror was distant. She wasn’t in the throws of passion or confusion. She felt completely sober and awake. She wanted him in her and on her. She wanted his power over her because she let him be there. He was an alpha worthy of her attention.

Jaxon turned them, laying her on the bed. He only slipped from her for a moment before pushing back inside. Layla threw her head back and groaned, squeezing him between her thighs.

He curled over her, his mouth at the top of her head. It made her feel small, sheltered. His thrusts quickened as she ran her hands over his ribs, pulling her nails across damp skin.

Jaxon growled. “He can’t have you.”

“No,” she agreed.

“You don’t want him,” he said with more force.

“No.”

She lifted her hips, meeting his thrusts as he slammed into her. If he touched her, she would come. She just needed a little more friction. Her body sparked and sizzled from her breasts to her core. Goosebumps rose on her arms and neck. She just needed him to fucking touch her.

“You’re mine!”

“Yes!” she wailed.

He touched her neck, his fingers rubbing her mating gland. Her senses seized at his touch, and she arched into him.

“Yes?” he panted. “I want to keep you.”

She wanted him. She fought for him. She’d keep him, too. Her pet. Her dog. Her Alpha. “Yes, yes. Jaxon. Alpha. Please.”

Jaxon nuzzled her neck and found her mating gland. Licked. She stretched and moaned. He felt so good. It all felt so good. He flexed her hips, grinding up into him. She wanted to come.

Jaxon slid his hand between them and dipped his fingers into her folds, stroking her clit. She dug her nails into his sides, and he pressed his teeth down into her neck.

She tensed. Wait.

Teeth pressed harder. She whined, caught between fear and rapture. He couldn’t bite her. He was playing. She hadn’t said yes. His fingers stroked harder, and her orgasm rolled through her like a thunderstorm. A shock of lightning from her toes to her hair and the rolling waves of thunder followed after. She might have screamed. Her throat certainly felt like it as her core clenched and pulsed around his thick cock.

His teeth were still at her neck, and pain bloomed for an instant as the gland broke, releasing a rush of endorphins. A relaxing and numbing warmth flowed through her body. Her hands fell limply to her sides.

Everything was heavy and swirling. All she could taste was cinnamon and blood. She could feel him, Jaxon and Alpha, flowing together and breaking apart like waves on rocks.

“No,” she moaned. What had she done?

Jaxon immediately jerked back, pulling out of her, and Layla whined at the sudden emptiness.

“No? Shit. Fuck.” Jaxon touched her face, wiping his thumbs over her cheeks. Oh. Tears. “Shh. Shh. Layla, you said—you said yes.”

She lay still, staring at the ceiling, trying to feel where she stopped and he began. He was touching her everywhere, trying to pet and soothe, but it didn’t feel like that. It felt like he was reaching inside her skin and rearranging her insides to best suit him. Nothing was hers anymore.

“You said you were mine, Layla!” he continued in a rushed panic.

She cringed and turned her head. It was her fault. She shouldn’t have given in. She had let her instincts out, and she had trapped him, just like her mother said. She couldn’t look at him, at what she made him do. “I’m sorry.”

Jaxon held her face and pulled her mouth to his neck. She didn’t resist him. “Bite,” he said.

She shook her head. It wasn’t right. She made him do it. She made him want her. She couldn’t take away the choice for him to have another mate. A better mate. She screwed up. She should be the only one punished.

“ Bite, ” he said again.

The Command was thick in her blood, but it worked in words, not on intention. Layla turned her head and sunk her teeth into the meat of his shoulder.

Jaxon grunted and pushed her closer to his mating gland, but she refused. “No,” she slurred.

Jaxon slammed his fist into the headboard, and she heard it crack. She turned her head and closed her eyes. Her heart broke under his anger and disappointment. But she couldn’t do that to him. She had already messed up so much.

She belonged to him irrevocably. Like Roan belonged to Holden. Like Kaiser belonged to Georgia. Like every generation of omega that came before her. She didn’t have any life to go back to now. It was all over. The small hope of returning to her family like nothing happened had been dashed with his teeth in her neck. She couldn’t force him to belong to her.

Jaxon growled and cursed virulently, but his fingers were a caress on her skin. She felt his hand at her neck again, rubbing at her scent gland soothingly. There was no soothing her now, though, but she wasn’t angry. She distantly wondered if that resulted from the wash of oxytocin and serotonin.

He continued to snuffle into her neck and pet her. He helped turn her on her side and held her against him.

The familiar dizziness was finally creeping back in. She shivered in cold. She sighed and burrowed her face into his chest. She liked the taste of cinnamon and the salty sweat she found there. If she tasted copper, she pretended that she didn’t.

Jaxon was angry. So angry. She could feel it now, not just in his smell but inside her.

“Alpha?” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

Layla glanced up at him, and his dark eyes shimmered with unshed tears. She hunkered down in shame. “I’m sorry.”

He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “Shh.”

She shuddered, lost and lonely. She had felt so good. Why did she have to screw it up?

Jaxon sighed, and she could feel it in her bones. “We need to shower.”

Layla nodded.

Jaxon helped hold her up as she stumbled to the bathroom. There were bloody footprints on the floor. Tiny feet. Hers. A large hand lay on the floor in the hall, the rest of the body hidden behind the wall. Right. She helped do that. She defended the den. Her nest was safe because of her.

She needed her nest. She wanted to sleep. She was really tired. Layla wiggled out of his grasp and tried to turn toward the closet.

Jaxon grabbed her arm. “Shower first.”

Right. She nodded.

Jaxon turned on the water, leaving Layla at the door. She crept forward to the mirror. She almost didn’t want to look, but curiosity was often her failing.

Her skin was sickly pale, with a blooming bruise over her mating gland. Jaxon hadn’t broken the skin, but he hadn’t needed to. There was blood in her hair and on her cheeks, smeared across her breasts and down her stomach. There were red marks across her skin where he had torn the shirt from her body.

“Oh.”

It was horrifying and unattractive. She wrapped her arms around her middle and bent over the sink. She was filthy and a mess and ugly and a whore—

Jaxon pulled her into his arms. “Layla, shh. Come on, kitten. None of that.”

He moved her under the warm spray and kept her standing. Blood swirled down the drain, mostly Axel’s, some Jaxon’s, a little hers. It was art. Her art history professor would call it art. She took a class last semester. It felt like a lifetime ago. A life she would never get back.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

She closed her eyes as he shampooed her hair and rinsed it away. He kept her close, always pressed against him. Layla didn’t mind. She was too tired, and he was warm. He was comforting. She shouldn’t get used to it. She would need him for the rest of her life.

He ran his hands over her body, soap and cloth. Clean. Then he turned them, taking the brunt of the spray for himself, quickly washing. He hissed as he cleaned the cuts on his back.

“I’m sorry,” she said once again.

“Enough,” he snapped.

She flinched and backed away in the small space of the tub.

“Fuck,” he said. “Come here, kitten. It’s alright. You’re alright. I’ll take care of you. I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

She leaned against his chest and nodded. She believed that he meant it, but he wouldn’t stay. He was already frustrated with her and her beta-ness. Once he had to deal with her without being manipulated by her heat, he would leave.

He’d find a real mate that wasn’t broken or a whore. A mate that didn’t hit or scratch or cry. She would return to being alone, just like her mother told her she would be.

Layla rested against him while she could, taking in the comforting scents of soap and cinnamon. This could be alright for a while.

After the shower, Layla wobbled back to her nest of pillows and dark. Jaxon’s scent was heavy there. The scent of her mate. God help me, I have a mate. She didn’t want to think about it.

Jaxon slid into the closet behind her and closed the door. He curled around her and pulled her back against his chest. She reached back and touched his damp hair.

Her Alpha. Her mate.

She never thought she would have one. She didn’t want one.

He nuzzled her neck and massaged her wrists, forcing more calming chemicals into her system. She would have been angry, but she was so anxious that his touch was the only thing keeping her from falling apart once again.

Layla tried to purr, but it only felt like a weird vibration in the back of her throat. Maybe omegas couldn’t purr. Helena purred; maybe it was just Layla. Maybe she was broken. She was such a terrible omega. She couldn’t make anyone happy. Not her mother. Not her mate. It didn’t matter what she tried to be. She should embrace being a disappointment.

She choked on a sob, and Jaxon shushed her. His hands were heavy on her skin, and she wanted him heavier still. She wanted him to crush the breath from her so she wouldn’t need to think, just concentrate on breathing. He wouldn’t, though. He refused. Every time she pulled him over her, he would shift away and soothe her with his mouth over her mating gland.

He didn’t attempt to convince her to bite him again, and she was grateful. She didn’t know if she would have the strength to refuse again.

“Alpha,” she begged.

“Shh,” he whispered. “You should sleep.”

Layla whined. “I want to sleep. I can’t.”

He sighed deeply and rubbed his hand over her stomach. It made her insides clench and ache in a way that had nothing to do with her heat. “Kitten…”

“No,” she said. She turned in his arms and held his cheeks between her hands, forcing him to look at her. “Make me sleep.”

He looked at her with sad eyes that she so rarely saw in him before that day. She hated that she put that expression there. His hand skittered across her ribs, and he nuzzled her neck again.

“Please,” she said.

“ Sleep ,” he Commanded, and Layla felt sweet relief as she slipped into unconsciousness.