His Trouble Maker
Chapter 163
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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My boots sucked at the mud; pine needles bit the soles; sap
He reached back without looking, caught
off,” I snapped, yanking
he said, not bothering to hide
the roots in a circle, and dried resin clung to the grooves
paused, head lifting, nostrils flaring. The gold in
My wolf pressed
to me, closer than I wanted, close enough
“Try me.”
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 across my
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Chapter 163
ears
grabbed his wrist. “What the hell are you painting
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he said. “Smokeleaf, hart’s ash, a little moon–iron dust. Mutes the bright edges of a hybrid. You’re
“I don’t ring.”
said, voice
my throat. He felt it. Of course he
far enough to make me want to breathe again. “Try not to wash it off
I’m washing off is
he promised, like
forest thickened, trading straight pines for old oaks twisted into fists. Scratch marks scored the trunks, high 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 up in my head whether I
taking me?” I
answers.
“You’ll see.”
direction. North?
“Down,” he said.
nearly walked into a cliff face- black stone veined with silver.
the hollow,” he
9:53 Tue, Sep 9
Chapter 163
:
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cold enough to raise
“Stop,” Jack said softly.
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