His Trouble Maker

Chapter 113

JESSICA

Grayson is wrong.

I shift on the mattress, sheets catching against my thigh, breath snagging in my throat.

He’s sleeping beside me like he always does. Possessive even in sleep. His hand curls heavy over my waist, rough palm pressing heat into my skin like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he blinks.

The thing is – I can’t fucking sleep.

It’s been three sunrises since I came back to him. Three dawns where my wolf paces restless under my ribs, claws scraping bone every time I close my

eyes.

Outside the walls, the world keeps moving. Riot’s still breathing. And I don’t know what the fuck they’re planning because they won’t tell me.

They told me not to ask. Told me to rest. But how can I do that when everytime I close my eyes I see Riot’s face? He’s trying to convince me to come back. He’s telling me it’s not over. And while Grayson told me it’s over I felt like it’s not really over.

He’s still here, somewhere.

Grayson’s breath drags rough beside me, chest rising heavy, lashes twitching like even asleep he’s fighting something ugly.

My heart twists, sharp and mean. I could stay. I could bury my face in his throat, let his scent drown it out for a while.

But that wouldn’t stop the nightmares.

Careful – slow, so I don’t wake him – 1 pry his arm from my waist. His fingers twitch in his sleep, wolf stubborn even unconscious.

I slip free – slow, breath caught in my chest – and just my fucking luck, there he is.

Theo.

Propped against the porch rail, cigarette burning low between his fingers, smoke curling around his jaw. Eyes catch on me the second I step out – dragging over bare legs, oversized shirt clinging to sweat–damp skin, hair a mess around my face.

half amused, half starving. Like he can’t

my ribs, ears back, not sure if it wants to snap or

know Theo. Know the rot in him. Know the jagged pieces he hides behind that grin. I also know what

was choking on Riot’s fucking bond, Theo

myself. Doesn’t mean I forget what

the

curling around his mouth when he talks. “Couldn’t sleep, princess?”

and a snarl. His eyes flick past me, then back, sharp, catching every twitch in my shoulders. “Guess none of us

something that didn’t punch back. My wolf twitches at that. I want to ask. Instead,

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Chapter 113

gonna tell Grayson you’re up?” Theo drawls, head tilting, smoke trailing from his lips.

him sleep,” I mutter, Voice comes

curling around the

you

“Nosy princess.”

mutter, eyes dropping to the boards between us. “You weren’t exactly

think I know. His jaw ticks, cigarette

gonna ask, or you

coming out flatter than I feel. “Saying

smoke bursting past his lips. “Course he fucking doesn’t,” he mutters, like it’s

twists sharp. “Since

mouth into the dark.

ugly scratches

“That’s not true-”

cuts me off, voice dropping to something harsher, closer to a growl. “He’d burn the whole fucking pack to keep

“Grayson loves the pack-”

lift, catching mine, dark and sharp and fucking tired. “You’re

It feels wrong.

mutters. “The rest of us?

that everything should come down to me – wrong that the others would burn for

“And what about me?”