Chapter 59

(Layla’s POV)

The moon festival is tonight. Every wolf in the region celebrates the first full moon of the year. There is a centrally located meeting place between the territories. Many unmated wolves find each other there.

There is always a huge feast, live music, dancing, and drinking. Santiago’s pack house is empty.

Given this is the anniversary of his mother’s death and his opinion of mate bonds, I know he plans to stay here and brood.

Jesse took the opportunity to take credit for the story that broke about Isabella’s mother’s role in healing werewolves during the great pandemic.

I gag just thinking about that saccharine bitch getting all the glory now. Jesse and I both suspect that Santiago was the anonymous source of the original newspaper clippings that were left for Nadine Bailey, but he didn’t challenge Jesse when he said he did it. Kind of weird that he didn’t.

I hear everyone leave and smile. Santiago went on a hunt and came straight to the shower. I have just enough time to slip into his study.

I take his favorite whiskey and make a special cocktail for him.

I’m fortunate to have found out that my sister was his mate before he did. Stupid bitch came home all excited about it. Little Miss Perfect. Our parents' pride and joy, I think back with a roll of my eyes.

I didn’t mean to kill her. I shifted and tore her to shreds before I could stop. But I’m smarter than my family gave me credit for. I took my sister’s body to a witch.

That witch taught me a few tricks of her craft…she drained and preserved my sister’s blood. Distilling pheromones. They mimic the mate bond.

Of course, it’s not as strong as the real connection, but it's enough…

I fix the drink and leave a note from the omega who typically serves him—forgery is another of my skills.

Alpha, I went to the Moon Festival. I thought you might enjoy a whiskey after your shower. -Clive

Now that everything is in place, I slip out to hide where I can see and wait.

Just like clockwork, Santiago shows up, reads the note, and downs the whiskey.

I dab pheromones behind my ear like perfume. It’s showtime

I walk into the room wearing a skintight, backless black dress that ends at mid-thigh with a slit that extends above my hip. I skip the bra and panties entirely. He hasn’t had a dose of pheromones since we met to complete the divorce paperwork.

This should make him more susceptible to it. If nothing else, he will go feral, and I’ll have him right where I want him.

I clear my throat.

Santiago lifts his head and sniffs the air.

His growl hits me like a tidal wave. It’s guttural, almost a roar. My panties would be soaked through if I were wearing any…this is going to be easy.

“Hey Alpha,” I say.

He moans as he turns around. “Layla,” he returns.

His icy blue eyes work their way up from my stiletto heels.

I put my leg on the side with the slit in front to make my way toward him, being sure he sees my exposed thigh and hip.

He grabs my waist, flips me around, and bends me over the sofa. I hear the zipper of his pants and push my ass up towards him just a bit for better access.

He growls and pushes me over the sofa.

I gasp in surprise. The last thing I hear is his zipper as he turns the corner and leaves.

(Isabella’s POV)

I decided to skip the festival this year. It’s nice to have the pack house to myself. I’m in the kitchen, bent over, digging through the refrigerator looking for something to eat.

I hear the front door crack open, the scent of sandalwood floods my senses, but before I have the chance to react, Santiago grabs me from behind. Has he gone feral?

He spins me around and plunges his tongue past my lips. He kisses me with a combination of need and want that leaves me dizzy.

His hands move from my waist to my ass. He lifts me, placing me on the counter, then stands between my legs, with his lips never leaving mine.

I run my fingers through his soft black hair. It's like stroking velvet.

He moans into my mouth and pulls me closer. My breasts press against his muscular chest.

His tongue retreats as he rests his forehead against mine. We’re both managing raspy breaths when he opens his eyes and locks his gaze on mine. Santiago’s usually icy blue eyes are entirely black. The pupils are the size of saucers.

I cup his cheek. “What’s wrong, Santiago? What happened?”

“I don’t know. She drugged me. I don’t know with what,” he says breathlessly.

“Who drugged you, Layla?”

“I had a drink, she showed up. It felt like we were mates again, I…my wolf took over…we don’t want her. I…I’m sorry, Bella. I don’t want to force you…”

I plunge my tongue into his mouth, matching his need and want with my own. His hands slide under my ass, and he lifts me again. I wrap my legs around his waist and let him carry me to my room.

I feel his manhood harden in his jeans. I whisper in his ear, “I’m so wet for you. Take me now.”

He sets me down on the bed. I lift my nightgown over my head and shimmy out of my soaked panties. A low growl escapes him as he tugs his jeans off, releasing his rock-hard cock.

I roll over on my stomach and push myself up to my hands and knees. His hot breath on my neck sends shivers through my core. Strong hands cup my breasts, and I hear him moan into my ear as his lips graze the lobe.

He thrusts inside me in one swift motion. I gasp in surprise, then moan at the sensation of my body stretching to accommodate him.

The scents of sandalwood and sex intertwine and overload my nostrils as pleasure hits me wave after wave. Our breathing is ragged.

He pulls himself almost completely out, then plunges inside me seemingly deeper each time. His hands are hot against the bare skin of my hips. With each thrust, his grip tightens.

I feel my swollen cunt clench around him and scream into my pillow. I back myself up against him, soaking up every drop as he reaches his climax.

We collapse together. He wraps his arms around me, turns me around, and holds me to his chest.

I wake up in Santiago’s arms after the best sleep I’ve had in forever. He’s still sleeping peacefully. I can’t help but stare at him.

Moon goddess, help me, this man’s gorgeous.

I take the chance to appreciate his features while I run my fingers through his velvet-soft hair. As I stare at him, I think of what he said about Layla drugging him.

Her influence over Santiago is unnatural.

I write Santiago a note to let him know I’m working in the office and to ask him to come see me if he wakes up before I get back.

Layla stayed here with Jesse. I threw all her things in boxes in the closet. I gather these and head to the office to look through them.

A lot of costume jewelry and makeup comprise the contents of the boxes. She had a few trinkets, and books. A sparkling heart catches my eye.

The gold chain of the locket laces between my fingers. There’s a picture inside of Layla with her family on one side and a tiny key on the other.

I cock my head. There is another girl with Layla. Does she have a sister?

The girl in the photo looked maybe just a little bit older than Layla.

Her jewelry box catches my attention next. It appears to be custom-made, with curved edges and ornate wolf-shaped carvings. I notice that when I lift it with the handles on the sides, there is a tiny keyhole underneath.

How odd.

Then, I remember the locket and the tiny key. It fits. I turn the key, and a compartment beneath the box pops open. A diary with Layla’s name engraved on the cover falls out.

My eyes widen as my fingers trace the lettering across the aged red leather.

Some entries are written in flowery, beautifully crafted handwriting, while others resemble chicken scratch with rough, sharp lettering. And some pages, she wrote around the edges toward the center.

I read it cover to cover. The circular writing is the hardest to decipher. These entries are written in broken English, with a lot of gibberish that doesn’t make sense.

The last one catches my breath in my throat. Oh, moon goddess, Layla not only has been spreading false rumors, but she is also Santiago’s false mate!