His Trouble Maker

Chapter 83

Chapter 83

Chapter 83

JESSICA

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He’ll come back. He always comes back. He- He has to. He always–he always–Grayson, please–please, come

back–please-

Come back. Come back. Come back. Please-

I can’t-

I can’t breathe.

I press my back to the wood, panting, swallowing hard, my body shaking and slick and treacherous. My wolf’s

clawing at me, pawing at my ribs, whining go to him, go to him, go to him.

I press my palms over my ears.

No. No. Shut up. Shut up shut up shut up.

“You’re not okay.” Riot’s voice strains like he’s choking on the need to pull me into him. His breathing’s sharp now, ragged. He’s holding the leash on himself, but it’s fraying. “Sit down Jessica.”

I shove off the door–too hard–my body lurches like it’s trying to go back to him. My legs buckle. I stumble. My

wolf howls mine mine mine mine. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

I stumble. My legs fold. Riot’s hands are on me before I hit the ground.

I jerk away like he burns. “Don’t touch me.”

“You said you wanted me to do this.” His jaw ticks, eyes dark. “You picked me.”

“No, I didn’t-” My knees crashed to the floor. I brace on my hands, shaking, sweat dripping from my jaw onto the wood. “I didn’t pick you–I didn’t–I picked not dying.”

“That’s still picking me.”

I claw at my thighs like I can tear the heat off. My nails bite into my skin. It doesn’t help. Nothing helps. The ache

gets worse.

“Grayson.” His name falls out of me. I didn’t mean to say it.

Riot stiffens. I can feel it. His wolf snarls through him. Mine purrs back, proud and eager.

“Grayson–Grayson, come back–please–I didn’t mean it–I didn’t–I didn’t-” My shoulders heave. My ribs rattle. I can’t stop saying his name. I can’t stop tasting his scent even though it’s already fading. Riot’s scent is flooding the room now–heavy, sweet, drowning me—and I hate that it feels good.

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Chapter 83

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says. His jaw ticks. His voice

me?”

I press my forehead to the floor. “I don’t want

want-”

“You want to live.”

guts me. My wolf hums,

this.” My voice is raw. I claw harder at my skin. “I hate

doesn’t move. He doesn’t touch me. But his scent drapes over me like a net I can’t crawl out of. I scrape my nails over my arms, dragging skin, needing pain, needing something real.

His head tilts. “What?”

I choke on them, rage and grief crashing together

always close. Of

it. I didn’t

tell me

breathes hard, like it physically hurts to admit it. “Since the first time I

I flinch. “Liar.”

blink. “I felt

My voice splinters.

“During your first heat.”

“You could’ve told me.”

Riot’s voice stays tight, but the edges

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tried!” I shove off the floor, staggering to my feet. My legs tremble, but I keep going, bracing against the wall like I can

built my whole life around Grayson.

Before I loved him.

Before I picked him.

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Chapter 83

it to be him,” Riot snaps, his voice slicing through me.

I scream. “Because he

I can see his restraint snapping, his wolf pressing

me touch you if you really loved him, huh? What is it, Jessica? You

kind of slut now?”

Crack.

before I can think. Before

his face, the sound snapping through the room like

head jerks to the

trembling, heat and shame crashing through

there, breathing hard,

my throat raw, my ribs squeezing so tight I can barely

Riot has always been an asshole.

I

Riot stalks toward me, slow, lethal. “You hate that

clawing toward me while your mouth still sobs

That’s not true.

He’s bluffing.

shove him hard, but he absorbs it like stone, like he’s

leaned into me

“Stop talking–shut up-‘

that I can smell how fucking, wet you are for me

413

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