Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 119: Jack-Eye: What’s in a Name?

JACK-EYE

"I didn’t expect this attitude from you, of all people," she murmurs, turning her attention back to her phone.

Her words are another hit to my already bruised ego. I blink, then blink again, my mouth opening before promptly snapping shut. It feels like a habit around this woman.

My usual comebacks have abandoned me. Something hot crawls up my spine and settles in my chest, sharp and leaden all at once.

"What do you mean by that?" I ask, a little too sharply. Defensively.

The image of her with another man—her mouth, her lips, doing the things I’ve spent a lot of time imagining—slams into me with a possessive intensity I don’t know how to manage. It’s not like I haven’t watched her touch him. But this? Her going down on the wizard? That’s something else.

I might have to kill the guy. Wring his scrawny little neck. Maybe stomp on his dick for good measure.

"Beta Aaron Xhekaj of the Lycan Pack."

My name on her lips should not make my cock twitch. But it does. And I hate it. She hadn’t looked like she was even paying attention when I told her my name. She remembers. She keeps using it. It’s destroying something vital in my brain. No big deal. Just rational thought. And logic. And impulse control.

Poof.

Gone.

Vaporized because the way she says Xhekaj

makes me want to fuck three or four kids out of her. At least.

"You have a reputation," she adds, scrolling idly. "I thought you’d be the last person bothered by what I have to do."

I know what she’s saying. She’s not wrong.

Fuck, I did hook up with a she-wolf the other day just to keep her distracted from Caine. That’s not exactly a noble deed, now is it? And how is it different from what Lyre’s saying now?

I rub a hand down my face, jaw clenched. Guilt crawls through me.

Like an army of centipedes.

want to stomp out

is different,"

up. "Or are you just not used to being on this end of

and we

That’s the problem.

She knows.

me. Flays

know how she does it, but she freaking knows, damn

game. Lyre has no need to do any of

don’t know them

she’s right, but I don’t want to admit to

transfer. I’m not proposing to

Aaron. Right. Demoted. Stripped of first-name privilege. Casualty of

gonna have to

her phone onto the cheap motel table. It skids across the scratched laminate with a plastic clatter. Then she stretches her arms over her head, her shirt riding up just enough to reveal a pale strip of skin. I catch sight of a thin,

goes dry. I glance away

want to lick them

to blow him after all," she sighs, rolling her neck. "Hopefully it won’t

jaw tightens until

at the hinge like she’s prepping

Traitorous.

Hopeful.

in here? It’s hot in

says, not even

three strides and plant my hands on the arms of her chair, boxing her in. Her scent hits me like a damn freight train, wild and sharp and divine. I

do it if

Doesn’t blink. Just lets a slow, serpentine smile

smirk. It breaks

I snap.

kiss—reckless and aching. My fingers slide into her hair, dragging her closer, angling her