Layla's POV
When I finally called him back, Izaiah didn't bother with greeting me this time, he sounded pissed, as if he was holding his anger pack just to speak to me.
"Layla, they've dragged me to the Whitecrown Pack house. Chelsea is weak and short of breath, chest pain, the whole works. They're calling it mate sickness again and they want me to intervene. I won't lay a hand on her without your permission though. If you give it, then I'll get to work, but if you say no, I'll walk out."
I stood by the window and watched the city of Moonspire blink in the glass. Freja paced restlessly under my skin and then went still, listening.
"No," I said coldly,"You've known me long enough to know that there's no way I'll consent to you helping her. You shouldn't have asked."
"Layla,
