chapter 8

                                    

                                          
Layla's pov~
The events of that day replayed over and over in my mind, every time I close my eyes I see Mike's face distorted, almost deformed.
His eyes were filled with lust and anger. I knew it wasn't his wolf though, it was all him.
My phone buzzed incessantly with missed calls and pleading text messages from Christian, yet I found myself devoid of the strength and will to engage with anyone. Kayla and Melissa's persistent outreach, now peppered with ominous threats of intervention, only scratched the surface of my inner torment. "Layla, you have to open up to someone. You won't heal unless we seek help for you," Carley implored, her voice tinged with a mournful concern. "I'm worried about you. If you need a friend I'm always here," she continued, her words carrying a heavy burden of sorrow. " Please, seek help."
I haven't left my house in almost a week, I'd missed 6 days of school and when Marie found out I hadn't been doing my pack house duties, she nearly beat me within an inch of my life.
I was so depressed, I welcomed death I definitely contemplated suicide quite a few times. Taylor noticed and let me use his room in an attempt to make my life easier in doing so he realized I hadn't been eating.
So every day he brought me breakfast, lunch, and dinner. 
I know he did something else because, after that the Alpha assigned somebody else to do all my duties.
After scolding Marie pretty badly in the process.. She hasn't fucked with me ever since.
A knock on my door snaps me out of my internal rant.
"Who is it?" I asked sheepishly.
"Christian!" 
"Hold on a sec!" I yelled as I attempted to clean myself up, throwing my hair into a half-ass ponytail, I slipped on a black T-shirt and yoga pants.
I noticed a large blue bruise on my thigh in the shape of a hand, bringing tears to my eyes. I checked my face, it was worse I had a black eye and split lip no doubt from Marie.
Looking through my mom's old makeup for some kind of concealer, or something to cover the bruises on my face. My mom never used any kind of concealer or anything for her skin because she didn't need it.
So, I would have to pick one up later.
I sighed, knowing I would have to tell Christian something.
Opening the door, I was greeted with wide eyes and a forced smile.
His angelic face and exquisite features entranced me, he wore a leather jacket and jeans that perfected his look. He was the bad boy alpha with a heart of gold.
I wondered who would be his mate. probably someone just as perfect. I was a fool to think that he would be my mate, he's definitely out of my league.
"Layla?" 
"Oh sorry, I was thinking about something." I said blushing.
"Can I come in?"
Ugh...I glanced around the room which looked like a pigsty.
"Let's go for a walk." I said shutting the door.
"Oh, ok, are you sure? 
You seem to be in pain."
He said, thoughtfully.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
We made our way to a nearby picnic table.
Christian dusted off the benches, gesturing me to sit down.
I covered my mouth trying to muffle my cries of pain, I could barely move. I was covered in bruises, making it difficult to sit down properly.
Christian noticed and ran to my side.
"You need help?
What happened?
Please tell me!"
"I know it's not from Marie, she told me you were already banged up when she got to you!"
"Taylor told me everything, but he also told me he was concerned there was something else going on with you.
Marie told me the reason she punished you was because you stopped getting out of bed."
"I've also noticed your scent is different, I'm pretty sure this is something to do with Mike.
So, you can either tell me, or I can Beat the fuck out of him and make him tell me.
Although I'll probably beat the fuck out of him anyway, I'd rather hear from you."
Chewing my bottom lip, I debated telling him. His gaze bore into mine, probing for answers amidst a sea of worry and apprehension. His desperate need to understand was palpable, but I was keenly aware that revealing the truth would only exacerbate the situation.
I watched as his hands reached out to touch mine, instinctively flinching at the thought of a man making contact. Despite my initial unease, I relented and allowed him to hold my hand, understanding that his actions were not to blame for my discomfort.
I watched his face change from sadness to confusion, arching an eyebrow, Christian looked at me curiously.
I could tell he wanted to say something. 
Instead, he sighed in defeat.
Before he could say anything else. I blurted out. "Mike rejected me!"
"I accepted and he still took what he thought he was owed." Fuck, Diarrhea of the mouth again. I thought to myself. 
At first, he seemed confused until I noticed the look of realization in his eyes.
His eyes shimmered with a telltale red hue, a clear sign that his inner wolf was clawing its way to the surface. Placing my hands on his face, I compelled him to meet my gaze, pleading for the return of the man I knew as Christian.
"Christian, please look at me. I need your support right now," I pleaded, my voice tinged with urgency. "Releasing your wolf won't solve anything; it will only exacerbate the situation. If you care about me, you'll come back and talk to me."I understood that uttering these words might just be the key to bringing him back, for his actions had always spoken volumes about his care for me.
As tears cascaded down my cheeks, he re-emerged, enveloping me in his embrace. In his arms, I found solace and security as he tenderly stroked my hair, lulling me into a peaceful slumber.