His Trouble Maker
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
JESSICA
I have a confession to make.
I think the Alpha hates me.
No–despises me. That might be the right term because there is absolutely no logical reason why I am standing here, simply existing, doing nothing, and yet somehow, he still finds a reason to kill me with those goddamn eyes.
Like, come on? Really?
But if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my seventeen years within the Blackmoor Pack, it’s that Gray Westwood never stares at me without a reason. Or maybe–just maybe–those eyes were made to fuck me and ruin me all at once.
“Uh–oh,” Logan mutters beside me. “What did you do this time, Jes?”
“What?” I scoff, crossing my arms. “I exist. That’s usually enough.”
Logan hums, eyes flicking toward the other side of the yard. Every pack member is expected to train, to fight, to serve. That’s why after class, we’re mandated to come here.
PO
“Mm. That so? Because Gray Westwood is looking at you like he either wants to fight you or-”
“Or what?”
His grin turns wicked. “Or fuck you against a wall.”
My stomach drops.
“Shut up.” I glare at him. “He hates me.”
“Hates you?” Logan smirks. “Or wants you?”
Oh, gods. Not this again. I roll my eyes, but it doesn’t shake the feeling.
that tension? The arguing? The way he watches you like you
no. If anything, he
“Okay,
I cut him
head, voice dropping lower, “pinning you against
into something dangerous, “pinning you
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Chapter 1
My
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the image forms. Gray pressing me against the cold stone. His body heat licking at my skin. His fingers fisting in my hair, dragging
so fast it feels like I’ve
No. Absolutely not.
so hard I swear the air should sizzle.
cackles. “Oh my gods, you did
him. Hard. He just laughs harder,
pulse too wild because of what I freaking imagined. I
“Is that so, Jess?”
fangs. My lips part, and very slowly, I turn–only to find Gray Westwood standing in front
was just across
Oh, fuck.
in, voice low and dangerously amused. “Didn’t think you had a preference, Jess.” His voice is low, casual–dangerously amused. “Beasts over Alphas, huh? That why you’ve been running your mouth
I can still feel his
I can process it, his hand moves–fast, decisive– his fingers
pulse slamming
firm. Hard. My breath catches as I glance
Moon Goddess.
flexes over my wrist, like he’s waiting. Watching. Drinking in
No. Fuck. No.
golden eyes flicker, his grip flexing over my wrist. His own breathing is heavier now, but his smirk is still
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Wed, 30 Jul
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