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.

snorts, mouth twisting like he’s half amused, half starving. Like he can’t

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.

was choking on Riot’s fucking bond,

Doesn’t

stand here, bare feet freezing on the boards, night air licking my skin raw, and not spit in

his mouth when he talks. “Couldn’t sleep, princess?” His voice

back, sharp, catching every twitch in my shoulders.

like he’s been punching something that didn’t punch back. My wolf twitches at that. I want to ask. Instead, I move closer, boards creaking under my heel, smell of cigarette smoke and

1/3

Chapter 113

tell Grayson you’re up?” Theo drawls, head tilting, smoke trailing from his lips. “Or just let him wake up and tear the

him sleep,” I mutter, Voice comes out softer than I

curling

you two last

“Nosy princess.”

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

I think I

heavy. “You gonna ask, or you gonna stand there pretending you don’t give

I say, voice coming out flatter than I feel. “Saying he doesn’t

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

chest twists

trailing from his mouth into the dark. “Since Riot fucking happened. Since before that, probably. He never

ugly scratches at

“That’s not true-”

harsher, closer to a growl. “He’d burn the whole fucking pack to keep you breathing, princess. You really think the

“Grayson loves the pack-”

mine, dark and

It feels wrong.

he mutters. “The rest of us? Doesn’t matter

me – wrong that the others

“And what about me?”