His Trouble Maker

Jessica

4231

Is it wrong to make out with my Alpha right in front of my house?

Goddess, probably but it doesn’t stop me from chasing Grayson’s lips as he pinned me harder into the hood of his car.

A drop my head against his shoulder, a laugh slipping out of me. This is so insane. “I should go inside,” I mutter, heart thundering.

His mouth drags down my neck, teeth grazing. “You should go,” he mutters, voice low and rough. “Or we’ll be late for patrol.”

My brows pull together. “Patrol?”

He watches me, eyes dark with something feral, something too alive. Then his fingers–those rough, calloused fingers that always find the most fragile parts of me–tuck a strand of hair behind my ear with an intimacy that makes my knees scream. “Pierce didn’t tell you?” he says.

I shake my head, throat closing.

“Told me what?”

His jaw ticks. Grayson’s eyes drag over my face like he’s memorizing me one last time before he says something that’ll gut me.

“Tell me what, Grayson?”

“We’re classifying ranks next week. You’re in the trials.”

My breath catches. My stomach drops.

“What?”

“You’ll be tested. Against the others.” His voice is low, nearly a growl. “Then after that, we’re going to discuss if what department you were going to be assigned to.”

My stomach drops.

Grayson steps closer again, body aligned to mine, his mouth brushing my ear.

the top if I have to.” His lips skim the shell of my ear. “You

hours later, I still couldn’t breathe right as I hear Grayson deliver the news to others. We were round up

instructions.

the fuck back up. You’re not just fighting to

were nothing but bodies to

group, “get first pick of assignments. Warrior units. Defense positions. Patrol command. The rest…” A cold smile. “Well. You better like

are older. Bigger. Harder. I feel like I’m already bleeding and no one’s

1/3

Chapter 42

growls. “Train. Hunt.

the spot where he left before, I turn

choose

a shaky breath. “Only if he’s

don’t hold back. That’s more than half

other half is

glances at me sideways.

burns hot, but what if it burns out too

to rot in some corner of the pack house

It’s dry, packed down hard from all

to circle, square

follows close, staying half

not training with

“Why not?”

glance over my shoulder.

“That’s insulting.”

“Exactly.”

I stop walking.

“You wanna get better?”

“Yeah.”

someone

away, jaw