His Trouble Maker

JESSICA

My heart cracks, sharp and ugly in my chest.

Getting caught by Riot again was never part of the fucking plan.

1 twist, elbow jerking back, shoulder screaming from the angle–but he’s not there. He’s already shifted, already moved, already shoving me down with one hand like it’s effortless. I buck, legs kicking wild, but his grip cinches tighter until my hips grind against dirt and root.

He’s faster. Stronger. Always was.

His claws dig into my waist as he yanks me up like I weigh nothing, breath hot against my ear, body all brute force and maddened heat. My legs thrash–useless. He growls, low and guttural, and fuck, it rattles my ribs from the inside.

“Did you think you could run from me?” he snarls, voice split in two–half man, half beast.

I claw at his forearm, nails breaking. “Let go of me-”

He doesn’t. He hauls me tighter, spine bent over me like he’s shielding something that already belongs to him. His chest vibrates with another growl, and his mouth is right there at my neck, breath dragging heavy as he inhales me like a drug he’s been starved

of.

“Mine,” Riot snaps, more animal than Alpha now. “You smell like him. You reek of wrong.”

I try to shift–goddess, I try–but the wolfsbane still sticks to my blood like tar. My limbs won’t respond. My skin burns with the weight of his grip as he drags me deeper into the woods, away from the lights, from the pack, from anything that could save me.

Twigs snap under his boots. My feet scrape the ground.

“You should’ve stayed hidden, baby,” he breathes, cruel and sweet against my throat. “Now I don’t get to be gentle.”

My shoulder hits a branch. Then another. My legs are raw from the bark, the bramble, from not being able to keep up. Every time I struggle, he tightens his grip–on my wrist, my waist, the back of my neck. His claws don’t break skin, but they could. That’s the point. It’s always the fucking point with him.

He’s dragging me somewhere–I don’t know where. The forest’s deeper here. Colder.

“Let me go,” I whisper, weaker now. “Please, you already have the pack. What else do you want from me?”

he breathes, lips brushing my

me whimper in pain. “I don’t give a fuck about the pack,” Riot

shake my head,

“Aren’t we all, Jess?”

he mean by

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25

Chapter 123

something cracks in my neck. My gasp turns into a whimper, jaw clenching as pain lights down my spine. “I’ve heard about your little

you

your teeth

“No-“I thrash.

My head snaps back, spine bowed, ribs stretching too far around his forearm. My vision blurs from the pressure behind my eyes–but he doesn’t stop. He angles me up, forces my

lie to

him rogue,” Riot snarls, shaking me. “You dragged him out into the woods like

into my stomach, holding me tight as my legs kick weakly against the

buck hard, heels scraping bark, a snarl ripping from my throat.

“Not anymore.”

thought you could drag that soft little fuck into the dark

choke. “You don’t

“I know enough.”

happens. Wolfsbane still burns through my veins, thick and slow. My hands are

your own little pack, Jessica.” Riot murmurs as if it

the shift–but nothing moves. My limbs stay dead, fingers clawed into the dirt, heart beating so loud it cracks

me strong

slips into something colder. “Sniffed out. Caught.

I go still.