His Trouble Maker

Chapter 90

JESSICA

“Get up.”

I blink hard, trying to shove the sleep from my head.

Rrot stands just outside the bars, leaning lazily against the doorframe like he’s got all the time in the world.

He tips his chin toward me. “Come on, princess. Don’t make me hand–feed you.”

“You,” I spit, rage surging so fast I don’t know what to do with it. I slam the bars so hard the metal rattles, but I want more–I want to rip them open, claw through them, get to him.

I want to tear his fucking throat out.

“I brought you food.”

“Fuck your food!” I scream, my hands white–knuckling the bars, my body trembling with the force of it. “You set me up! You planned this! This is your fault!”

He stays perfectly still, lazy, leaning his shoulder against the stone like he’s bored.

“You did this,” I choke, slamming my fists against the bars again. “You put me here. You made them think I-” My voice breaks. I can’t even say it. Can’t even get the words out. “You made them think I killed him.”

His eyes flick, darkening. “I didn’t make them believe anything. I just showed them what they wanted to see.”

“You lying, scheming piece of shit.” My throat burns, my vision swimming. I grab the bars and shake them so hard my arms ache. “I’ll kill you, Riot. You hear me? I’ll rip your goddamn throat out-”

“Settle down.” His voice is calm, almost amused, like my rage is a joke to him. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re caged. You’re done.”

“Fuck you!”

“Eat, Jess. Stay alive.” His voice drops, heavy with something wicked. “You’re no good to me dead.”

I lunge at the bars, slamming both palms against the cold iron. The metal vibrates under the force, but it holds. “I am not yours.”

His hand shoots through the space between the bars–fast, brutal–fisting a handful of my shirt and yanking me forward so hard my ribs slam against the

cage.

face, low and lethal. “Grayson’s gone. The pack’s

claw at his wrist, shoving, scraping, but he doesn’t let go. His grip is solid, bruising, like

this,” I spit, twisting, shoving against him. “You set me up. You led

gaze drags over me, slow/dark,

wanted me to burn for this.

useless. I stagger, catching myself on

honey. “I want you broken. I want you to see what’s left

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Chapter 90

bars again, my hands raw, desperate to reach him.

60%

like the crack in his mask almost split. He steps closer, pressing his palm flat against the bars, leaning into it until his

deliciously cruel. “Maybe he’s already dead. Maybe his wolf’s in pieces.

slam my fist against the bar, the pain slicing up my arm.

forcing my head up, his grip rough enough to bruise.

skin. “You’re mine now. And whether you

breathing.”

again, grinning as I stumble, panting,

back on me

panic tearing through me. “You sick

he murmurs, a cruel glint in his eyes as he swings the door shut behind him. “Come on, little wolf.

stone wall. My lungs are caged. My pulse thrashes like it’s already trying to

knuckles across the

the fuck

cuts

skin this time–gouging, tearing–but he’s faster. His hand shoots out, fisting the back of my neck, slamming

he snarls, his breath hot and vicious on my

arm, kicking, shoving, but he’s locked in–his body a cage, his hand an

of his rage bleeding through his skin. “Five nights until they gut you like a rabbit. Unless…” His grip loosens just enough for me to drag in a shaking breath. “Unless you decide you

the edge of my jaw, a