Chapter 88

JESSICA

“Grayson?”

“Grayson?”

Where is he?

I check the front door Unlocked. Slightly open. A gust of early morning air rushes in and my grip on the blanket tightens.

Did he… go back to the pack village?

I drag the blanket around me tighter, clumsily stepping back inside. My body still hurts from last night. A blush creeps up my cheeks, stupid and stubborn. We really… outdid it.

He was feral last night. Brutal. Gentle. All of it. I didn’t know you could be worshipped and devoured in the same breath. I didn’t know someone could touch you like they’re starving and still somehow make you feel safe.

I press my fingers to my throat and feel the faintest trace of a bite. Not a full mark. But close. So close it makes me dizzy.

I wander toward the kitchen, dragging the blanket along the floor behind me. It catches on the corner of a chair and nearly yanks me off my feet.

“Grayson?” I call again, quieter this time.

Still no answer.

The silence is starting to get… heavy.

And that’s when the front door slams open.

I jolt.

A cold burst of wind blows in–and then Riot steps inside with some bruises on his face.

I quickly went and tried to touch it but he rejected me. “W–What happened?”

Riot drags a breath in through his nose, jaw clenched so tight I hear it crack. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

words like venom, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

my body. It’s still warm

over the floor like it hurts to walk but he doesn’t care. “Didn’t mean to? Didn’t plan it? Or

back like he punched me. My heel knocks against the edge of the sofa. The blanket slips, baring one shoulder, and I yank

whisper. “It’s not

“Oh, it’s exactly like

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Chapter 88

shake my head.

fingers curling into fists at his sides. “You think I didn’t feel it? Every time he touched you–I felt

burns. I glance at his mouth–split, swollen, red–and wonder if it was Grayson who

the bond,” I say, voice

You just

I choke

he’s not done. He’s

rough with me. My breath catches. His fingers are cold–calloused, angry–as they grip my chin and

gaze up.

“Look at me, Jess.”

I can’t. Because if I look

mouth is cracked and crusted with dried blood. I don’t know if it was Grayson’s fist

even fucking hesitate,” he snarls, voice low but trembling. “Did

“Riot-”

grip tightens. “I trusted you,”

“I’m not,” I whisper.

of the counter

close–and I see it in

He’s breaking.

is how he does

smell like him,” Riot snarls.

snap, but my voice wavers. “Just–go. You don’t get to do

the shell of my ear. “You let him ruin you, Jess. And now

him, arms braced, panic flooding my limbs. But Riot trained me. He knows me. He taught me how to break an enemy’s stance, how to twist out of a chokehold–but

my body remembers that

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