His Trouble Maker

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

JESSICA

I have a confession to make.

| think the Alpha hates me.

No-despises me. That might be the right term because there is absolutely no logical reason why | am standing

here, simply existing, doing nothing, and yet somehow, he still finds a reason to killwith those goddamn

eyes.

Like, con? Really?

But if there’s one thing I've learned in my seventeen years within the Blackmoor Pack, it’s that Gray Westwood

never stares atwithout a reason. Or maybe-just maybe-those eyes were made to fuckand ruinall at

once.

“Uh-oh,” Logan mutters beside me. “What did you do this time, Jes?”

“What?” | scoff, crossing my arms. “I exist. That's usually enough.”

Logan hums, eyes flicking toward the other side of the yard. Every pack member is expected to train, to fight, to

serve. That's why after class, we're mandated to chere.

PO

“Mm. That so? Because Gray Westwood is looking at you like he either wants to fight you or-"

“Or what?”

His grin turns wicked. “Or fuck you against a wall.”

My stomach drops.

“Shut up.” | glare at him. “He hates me.”

“Hates you?” Logan smirks. “Or wants you?”

Oh, gods. Not this again. | roll my eyes, but it doesn’t shake the feeling.

“Con,” he grins. “All that tension? The arguing? The way he watches you like you personally offended his

ancestors?” He leans in. “Repressed. Sexual. Energy.”

| snort. “Yeah, no. If anything, he wantsdead.”

Logan snickers. “Okay, but imagine-"

“No.” | cut him off immediately.

“Oh, con.” Logan grins, eyes gleaming. “Just for a second. Imagine him-" he tilts his head, voice dropping

lower, “pinning you against a wall, all muscle and command, those big fucking hands-"

“Just for a second,” he teases. “Imagine him-" he tilts his head, voice slipping into something dangerous,

“pinning you against a wall, all muscle and command, those big fucking hands-"

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Chapter 1

| freeze. My body betrays me.

73%

20

However, before | can stop it, the image forms. Gray pressingagainst the cold stone. His body heat licking at

my skin. His fingers fisting in my hair, dragging my head back-

| rip the thought away so fast it feels like I've been burned.

No. Absolutely not.

| snap my head toward Logan, scowling so hard | swear the air should sizzle. “Shut. Up.”

Logan outright cackles. “Oh my gods, you did just picture it.”

Why is he even my best friend? | shove him. Hard. He just laughs harder, stumbling back a step.

“Whatever,” | mutter, heat licking up my spine. My skin is too tight, my pulse too wild because of what I freaking

imagined. | push my hair behind my ear, letting my lips curl. “I'd rather have a beast fuckthan-"

“Is that so, Jess?”

The words slither down my spine, smooth as silk, sharp as fangs. My lips part, and very slowly, | turn-only to find

Gray Westwood standing in front of me, his eyes burning with rage.

But-how? He was just across the yard-

Oh, fuck.

Gray steps forward, close enough that | feel his breath on my skin. He leans in, voice low and dangerously

amused. “Didn't think you had a preference, Jess.” His voice is low, casual-dangerously amused. “Beasts over

Alphas, huh? That why you've been running your mouth all these years?”

| shift slightly, trying to put sspace between us. But | can still feel his breath on my neck. “I-1..Did..you hear

everything?”

His nostrils flare. Before | can process it, his hand moves-fast, decisive- his fingers move fast, curling around my

wrist before | can retreat.

I inhale sharply, pulse slamming against my ribs.

Slowly, he lifts my hand. Guides it forward. Until-heat. My palm presses against something firm. Hard. My breath

catches as | glance down, realization crashing over me. His abdomen. Warm, sculpted muscle beneath my

fingertips.

Moon Goddess.

Gray exhales, slow and controlled. His grip flexes over my wrist, like he’s waiting. Watching. Drinking in my

reaction. My core clenches.

No. Fuck. No.

Gray's golden eyes flicker, his grip flexing over my wrist. His own breathing is heavier now, but his smirk is still

there, sharp

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12:38 Wed, 30 Jul G Yi «

Chapter 1

and devastating.” “Tell me, Ash.” “Would you still rather f*ck a beast?”

My breath shatters. My pulse is a frantic, betraying thing against my ribs.

Gray's gaze never wavers, watching me-waiting.

The word dies on my tongue.

Because | don’t know what the fuck | was about to say.

Because my body is still pressed against his, my palm still against the impossible warmth of his skin, and Gray

Westwood- the bane of my existence, the Alpha | swore | hated-is still holdingthere.

Waiting forto break first.

| think that has always been his goal. | think Gray Westwood has always loved watchingfall apart. | rip my

wrist away. Or-1 try. “Letgo.”

He didn’t.

My gaze shifted from everyone around us but no one will cand helpbecause in Blackmoor Pack, no one

challenges the son of the Alpha who is also the strongest male warrior. “LET.ME.GO."”

“You sure you want that?”

My stomach flips. | scowl. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He hums, his golden eyes dragging over my face-down to my lips, then lower. For the briefest moment, | see his

throat bob, like he’s swallowing back something dangerous

After a few moments, he shovedback harshly and stepped away fromlike he’s trying to gather himself.

| didn’t know what was happening to him but all | know is that when | tried to move away, he roughly grabbed

my chin and intensely look at me. “Where do you think you're going?”

“Away from you,” | said, shoving my hands on his chest.

The second | shove him, a low grow! rumbles from his chest. In a blink, he snatches my chin, grip firm. Then,

slowly- deliberately-his nose drags up the side of my neck

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