His Trouble Maker

JESSICA

I’ve never woken up before the sun. Never needed to. But today, I was running before the sky turned gray lungs burning, legs aching, chasing silence like it might outrun the iness inside my head.

Whatever happened yesterday, it’s not something I can forget. Not even if I wanted to.

Did Grayson really give up on me?

The question loops, cruel and constant. My chest still aches from how we left things. From the way he said it–flat, final, like I’d finally pushed him too far. Maybe I had.

I don’t know how many tears I’ve cried. I don’t even know if they counted. I just know they didn’t fix a damn thing.

Even the rogue–I don’t know what was real anymore. Maybe I imagined him. Maybe my brain’s trying to sabotage me. Wouldn’t be the first time.

The door swings shut behind me, and I barely register the click before I see him

The Alpha.

Grayson’s father.

Everything in me halts. My breath snags on the edge of my throat, my heel stutters against the floor, and the sweat that had started to cool from my run suddenly feels icy. My eyes widen–no time to hide it–and my lips part, but no sound comes. I can’t even lie to myself and pretend I expected this. I didn’t. No part of me was ready for this.

His eyes look like Grayson’s–but colder. Older. Stripped of anything human. Atleast Grayson can look with empathy sometimes. Sometimes.

“Alpha,” I manage, and my voice sounds wrong in my own mouth–tight, strained, too quiet.

He doesn’t blink.

“You’re up early,” he says, and the calm in his voice makes it worse. “I thought caretakers had the luxury of sleeping in.”

I blink, stunned, trying to make sense of why he’s even here, why he’s saying these things to me like we’ve already been in an argument I don’t remember

starting.

“I-“I start, but my mouth is dry and clumsy, and the second he lifts a single hand, I stop cold.

“Don’t speak,” he says, the disgust bleeding through now. “You’ve already wasted enough of this pack’s time.”

My throat tightens. I blink. My arms are stiff at my sides, fingers twitching. I want to respond. I want to push back. But I don’t know how to do it without

shaking.

“I came because I hate watching talent rot,” he says, standing with slow, terrifying precision. “And because my son has let your presence weaken him.”

My head jerks. “Weak-?”

“Don’t speak again.”

I flinch. Actually flinch. My mouth clamps shut, breath stuck halfway in my chest.

He walks toward me–not quickly, but with intent–and it’s terrifying how little space it takes for him to feel like a storm crashing toward me

“You let your legs open and your instincts/rot,” he continues, tone low and sharp. “And you did it all for a boy who can’t even keep his mouth off his ex in public.”

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Chapter 66

shame hits hot, immediate, and I hate how much it lands, I hate that I care. But I do, I care too much and he sees it, and

it? To give up everything you were building, everything you could have been–just

That’s not true.

back in front of me. Closer now. His voice lowers. “I’m offering

again, rapid, trying to focus. “Back… to

be, if you hadn’t let

It burns.

tilts his head. “Offended? Good. You should be. You

says, voice cold enough to sting. “But not under Grayson. He’s proven incapable of separating strength from

words hit, but I can’t absorb them fast enough. “Wait–I

is compromised.

blink again, chest tight. “Then who-?” My voice is barely

he makes this very casual as if it’s

“Riot asked for you.”

blink once. Then

it slowly. As if the name should

“My other son.”

The floor tilts.

never–he doesn’t-” I’m stammering. I can’t stop. “He never told

in, voice clipped, cool.

process the words.

Grayson have a half–brother?

to him?” I ask, still flustered. “Why?

replies. “He asked. I agreed. You’ll

refusal, in disbelief. “I don’t

Follow orders. Make yourself useful. Unless, of course, you’d rather be escorted out of this territory

breath leaves me in one sharp exhale. Grayson’s father doesn’t wait for my answer. He doesn’t have

and I’m still standing in the same spot. Blinking. Trying to understand what

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Chapter 66

a full thirty seconds to realize

and I don’t remember walking there. My chest is tight, arms mumb,

word won’t leave my mouth. It clings to

And then I’m moving

knuckles slam into Pierce’s door

voice cracks. “Open the damn

open sluggishly, and when he appears–blinking, shirtless, disoriented–1 forget everything I

his chest

and down his side. I suck

up from my gut.

I almost choke on the word “idiot,” but fear swallows it whole before it

pull together instantly.

head, focusing on a chipped patch of paint like

shift in

alert, awake in a heartbeat. “Who told you about Riot?” His voice drops to a whisper so tense it might as well be a growf. His hand grips the edge of the doorframe like it’s the

So it’s true.

my goddess.” I press a hand to my forehead. “So it’s true?