His Trouble Maker

Chapter 163

Chapter 163

JESSICA

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“Where the hell are you dragging me, Jack? My wolf’s already pacing, and if you don’t quit yanking me around like I’m some lost pup, I swear I’ll bite you.”

This was beyond stupid–being hauled through the trees by an Alpha whose ego filled the forest louder than his footsteps. My wolf hated it. I hated it more.

I hadn’t had a say the second his hand closed around my wrist, iron–strong, dragging me out of Grayson’s den like I was nothing but prey. The sting of it still burned, and my pride burned worse.

All I wanted was one damn day–silence, coffee, no Alphas clawing at my nerves. Instead? I was stomping through mud and pine needles, half–lost in the thick woods with a wolf who thought dragging me was a sport.

I jerked against his grip. “Seriously, Jack. If you don’t tell me where we’re going, I’m-”

He stopped dead, and I almost slammed into him. He turned his head just enough for me to catch the gleam of his teeth, his smirk sharp as a blade.

“Patience, little wolf.” His voice was low, almost a growl. “You’ll see soon enough.”

Patience. As if that word had ever been made for me.

“You know,” I muttered, yanking a branch out of my face as he shoved us deeper into the thicket, “if this ends with me in some creepy pit where you guys dump bones, I’m going to haunt the hell out of you.”

“If I wanted you dead, pup, you wouldn’t have made it past Grayson’s bed this morning.”

That earned him a glare sharp enough to cut flesh. My wolf pressed against my skin, hot and ready, whispering that one lunge could put my teeth in his throat. But his dominance wrapped around the clearing like smoke, suffocating, daring

me to try.

“Then stop playing games,” I snapped. “Where the fuck are we?”

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Chapter 163

Cocky bastard.

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like it didn’t dare touch his skin. My boots sucked at the mud; pine needles bit the soles; sap streaked my palms when I shoved

reached back without looking, caught my wrist mid–fall, and steadied me with a grip that said he was used to catching

off,” I snapped, yanking

trip starts,” he said, not bothering to

of ward–trees where talons had carved sigils into the bark. Bones—wolf femurs, bird spines–hung on black cord, clacking in a low wind. Ash lines smudged the roots in a circle, and dried resin clung to the grooves like old scabs. The air fizzed faintly across my skin. Wards. Territory. Pack law

flaring. The gold

the trees. My wolf

said. “Yours is bleeding through the pines.” He turned back to me, closer than I wanted, close enough that I felt the heat of him through my

“Try me.”

ignored the warning, thumb hooking my jaw, tilting my face. He worked one- handed into his pocket, pulled out a small skin–wrapped bundle, and cracked it open with his teeth. A smoke–sour scent unfurled–resin and crushed mint and the bite of cold iron. He smeared a thumbprint

9:53 Tue, Sep 9

Chapter 163

behind my ears

grabbed his wrist. “What the hell are you

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ash, a little moon–iron dust. Mutes the bright edges of a hybrid. You’re ringing

“I don’t ring.”

he said, voice dropping. “Like

pressed the hollow of my throat. He felt it. Of course he

said, stepping back–but only far enough to make me want to

only thing I’m washing off is

promised, like it

and deep–the kind left when wolves reared up to remind the world how tall they were. Feathers and river stones lay in cairns along a game path. Not a tourist trail. A patrol run. My shoulders tucked, ears

are you taking me?” I asked–for the hundredth

answers.

“You’ll see.”

North? Trouble?

“Down,” he said.

hanging moss and nearly walked into a cliff face- black stone veined with silver. Jack rapped his knuckles twice against a seam I never would have noticed.

to the hollow,”

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Chapter 163

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stone slid open, exhaling air cold enough to raise bumps along my arms.

“Stop,” Jack said softly.