His Trouble Maker

Chapter 97

JESSICA

| don’t know how long I've been asleep. Or how long I'm going to pretend I still am.

| shift my weight a little and my body screams. Something in my thigh burns under the bandage-ripped open, re-

stitched. | don’t even remember how it happened. | remember teeth. Snapping. Blood. My own voice, feral and

not mine.

| close my eyes again, just for a second, just to stop the room from spinning.

It doesn’t help.

The cabin is warm but unfamiliar. Too quiet. Wooden walls, patchy light from the fireplace, no windows big

enough to see the sky. It smells like ash, antiseptic, and something vaguely sweet-like apples that are trying too

hard. | catalog everything automatically. Where are the exits? How many seconds would it taketo crawl if he-

No. No, stop.

He’s not going to hurt you.

Not this time.

The clatter of the spoon jolts me. | flinch. Subtle, but not enough to go unnoticed. Grayson’s head snaps up. He

looks at me, and the second our eyes meet | regret it.

“Y-You're awake.”

| blink once. That's the only answer | give him.

He moves like he’s going to ccloser. | tense, and he stops.

| try to sit up and immediately regret it. Pain lances through my leg. The bandage pulls. My breath hitches and |

hear it, the scrape of the chair legs behind him as he turns around again, fast.

“You're not supposed to move too fast,” he says, soft.

“I'm fine.” It comes out more like a cough.

“You're not. His eyes flick to my thigh, to the soaked through edge of the bandage. “You tore the stitches again.”

Of course | did.

Do you want help sitting up?”

I don’t answer. But he wants. He always waits. So | nod, barely, and his hand slips behind my back

flex kam helpup, and hate how good it feels just to lean on something solid How easy it would be to fall back

into him, to forget. To prefund is okay between the two of us

He adjusts the pillow befundand steps away

“Are you hungry? I've cooked something he says more then asks

| want to be. Say no Say | don’t need anything from him. But my stomach answers before | can, bwisting hard

with that hollow, asidic burn that says it's been too long

Normally, seeing the great Alpha of the Westwood pack prepare a meal forturns out to be a great chaotic

joke it throw but nothing is normal now.

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Chapter 97

Nothing is going to be normal after everything that happened.

| watch him pour soup into a chipped ceramic bowl. It was gentle and a view that made my stomach churns.

My dear Grayson, how can we go back from this?

When he finally turns around, I give him a small smile as if I'm not mourning in my head. He looks atlike he’s

still trying to figure out how I'm breathing.

I don’t have the answer.

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We spent hours here. Quiet. Wordless.pretending my bones aren't still vibrating from what I did. Him

pretending this cabin is enough to hold us

together.

Someone else was here.

The hell is he doing here?” | snapped-no, snarled-my voice already feral before | even saw his face.

Tra

I moved without thinking, blood thundering in my ears, my limbs dragging pain behind them. | didn’t care. |

could already feel the shift bubbling under my skin. Claws itching beneath the surface.

| was going to rip his smug face open.

He has the nerve to smirk.

“Well, well,” Théo drawls, stepping in like he owns the air. “Didn't expect to see you on your feet so soon,

sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

My fist connects with his jaw so hard | feel it reverberate through my bones. He stumbles, but that damned grin

never leaves his face. He tastes blood and laughs like | gave him a gift.

“Still got that charming right hook,” he mutters, spitting copper onto the floor.

“I will gut you, Theo.”

My voice is low. Shaking

“Jess Grayson’s voice behind me, but it’s distant. Doesn't matter.

| grab Theo by the collar and slam him against the wall so hard the cabin shudders. His head thuds against the

wood. Dust rains from the rafters.

You think | forgot?” | snart into his face, breath coming in short, fractured gasps. “You think | don’t know what

you did? What you leftwith?”

He laughs again, this tquieter. “You're going to have to be more specific, love. I've done a lot of things.”

fram my forearm into his throat. “Say one more word”

I'm shaking

Grayson’s hand lands on my arm-light, but grounding “Jessica”

| snap.

“Don’t-" | whirl on him, shoving him back hard enough he stumbles into the corner of the table. “Don’t you touch

me!”

“Jessica, stop it!”

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Chapter 97

Irake my hand across Theo's chest, tearing fabric, trying to get closer to skin, to pain. Grayson grabs me. Arms

wrapped around my waist, haulingback. | kick. Elbow. Thrash like a damn animal.

“Let go of me!” | scream. “Letfinish it! Letfinish what he started!”

Theo's blood is on my hand and it’s not enough. My body's lit with rage, fire in my veins, and the only thing

keepingfrom burying my claws in his chest is Grayson'’s grip.”

“I said stop!” Grayson growls, deeper now, Alpha-deep.

“No!”

He forcesback another step, one arm across my chest, one locking down my wrists. His breath is hot against

my ear. ” | said stop it!”

Theo's laughter is somewhere behind Grayson, but | can’t see him anymore. | see blood. | see betrayal. | see

everything we lost because of that smiling, smug little monster.

“You fucking coward!” | hurl it at Grayson like a weapon. “You think you're strong because you can hold me

back? That's not strength. That's complicity.”

| twist hard, teeth bared, slam my head back into Grayson’s shoulder, trying to bite. “Let go ofor | swear to

the Goddess I'll tear through you next!”

He doesn’t let go. So | slap him. Once.Twice. The crack echoes like bone breaking.

“You're pathetic,” | hiss. “You call yourself Alpha but you're a fucking coward.”

Grayson'’s expression is stone-cold, but his eyes-his eyes are on fire. They're locked onto mine, unflinching, like

he’s daringto keep pushing. His jaw clenches, the muscle ticking like a bomb about to explode.

| shove him again, my hands hitting his chest with all the force | can muster. He stumbles back half a step, but

his grip on my wrists stays firm. “Let. Me. Go.” | snarl, my voice trembling with rage.

“No.” His voice is calm, too calm, and it pissesoff even more. “Not until you calm down.”

“Calm down?” I laugh, the sound sharp and bitter. “You think I'm going to calm down after what just happened?”

His jaw tightens again, and | see it-the flicker of pain in his eyes. But it's gone as fast as it came, replaced by

that sdamn calm. “You're reckless,” he says, his voice low and steady. “And I'm not going to let you burn

everything down just because you're angry.”

“You don’t get to decide that!” | scream, twisting in his grip. But he doesn’t budge. He just stands there, holding

me, his face a mask of restraint. And it’s that restraint that infuriatesthe most. “What the hell is happening,

Grayson? Telleverything now!”

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