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.

uncomfortable. Something I want

is different," I

are you just not used to

equation." It’s a lie, and we both damn well know

That’s the problem.

She knows.

me. Flays me

it, but she freaking

this out of nowhere. She’s not guessing. She’s not playing a game. Lyre has no need to do any of it. She just...

I don’t know them

she’s

It’s just energy transfer. I’m

Not Aaron. Right. Demoted. Stripped of first-name privilege. Casualty of a tactical

gonna have to kill

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, intricate line of symbols

mouth goes dry. I glance away too

to

have to blow him after all," she sighs,

until I feel

rubbing at the hinge like she’s prepping for it.

Traitorous.

Hopeful.

in here?

she says, not even

cross the room in 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 lean in until I’m close

if I’m

lets a slow, serpentine smile unfurl. "Didn’t realize you were into that

smirk. It

I snap.

thing of a kiss—reckless and aching. My fingers slide into her