His Trouble Maker

Chapter 114

JESSICA

“You feel so good, Jess. You taste so fucking good, baby.”

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a whimper and rolled into the bed, reaching besideonly to find it empty. Goddess. What tis it?

My head pounds as | blink up at the ceiling.

I think | hurt my head. Or maybe I'm still dreaming. Or maybe I've just been having those nightmares all over

again.

I sit up slowly, washing my face with dry hands. It's so fucked up to even think about that. What happened in

that cell hauntstill now, | told Grayson about it, but telling him didn’t do anything to erase the pain. Sure, it

lessened my guilt, but it never erased anything.

Nothing.

And just like that, | find myself staring at myself again. This is notanymore. I'm so far from the Jessica

Wilkinson that | have known and | don’t know how to make her cback. | don’t know if I can even do that.

Nothing will erase those painful memories....and yet, we're still doing nothing.

Nothing! We're just here. Sitting. Sleeping. Cooking fucking breakfast like the world didn’t fall apart three days

ago.

What the fuck are we doing?

I'm tired too.

Tired of pretending I'm okay just because I'm back. Tired of Grayson acting like sleep will fix me. Sleep won't

even fix a broken heart. How can it fix a broken Luna?

| took more minutes preparing myself before | found Grayson cooking breakfast for us.

| stood there for a second. Just watching him.

Do you know what's crazy about all of this?

This used to be my dream.

| used to dream of waking up in Grayson’s white big shirt, then finding him cooking breakfast for me. | dreamt of

sleepy kisses, his arms sliding around my waist, him puttingup on the countertop just to kissagain. |

dreamt of him whispering that I'm his girl, his Luna, the love of his life, forever.

I used to want this so bad it hurt.

But now? Now I stand here, wearing that shirt, watching him flip eggs in that pan, and it doesn’t feel like a

dream.

It feels like a nightmare.

“Loving the view, baby?”

| smirk, letting myself lean in the doorfrand tilt my head like I'm fine. Like I'm just sflirty girlfriend

watching her mate cook half-naked in the

kitchen.

“Depends,” | say, voice light. “You planning to feedor fuck me?”

Grayson laughs. “Still not satisfied from last night?”

Tss. Arrogant bastard.

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Chapter 114

I swallow hard and push off the doorframe, walking to the counter slow. When | got there, | didn’t stop myself. |

just moved. Just let my arms slide around. his waist and pressed my cheek into his back.

| feel him smile. His hand finds mine, fingers curling slow, thumb brushing my knuckles like he’s trying to ground

me.

“Morning, baby,” he murmurs.

| nod against his spine.

Don’t talk. Don’t breathe too loud. Just stay here. Just hold on. Pretend a little longer.

Because for a second, this almost feels real.

But then I blink, and | see that cell again. That collar. His eyes. His voice.

“You taste so fucking good, baby.”

My throat tightens. | pull away before he notices. Turn fast, like I'm grabbing something from the fridge.

“You okay?” he asks, not turning yet.

“Fine,” llie.

Because if | say one more word, | think I'll shatter. It tooka few seconds to compose myself before | divert

the topic. It's not like he can read my mind anymore. We just lost..everything.

“So,” | say, voice too light, too casual. “Where's the others?”

Grayson pauses for a beat. | know he hears the shift. He’s not dumb. But he plays along anyway. Because that’s

what we do now.

“Theo went out back. | think he’s patrolling the ridge line again,” he says, scraping eggs onto two plates. “Said

something about the rogues getting

braver.”

Of course.

Because even while everything insideis breaking, the world outside is still bleeding too.

“And my brother?” | ask, sliding into a chair. “Did you talk to him?”

It's a sour topic for him, | know that. But he is his Beta. And right now, Grayson can’t afford to lose anyone-not

with the rogues watching, not with Riot out there breathing down our necks.

Even Theo is useful now.

Grayson exhales slowly. “He's still angry.”

“I'm not surprised.”

“He's also scared.”

| look up. That makespause. “Scared?” techo, voice flatter than | intend.

“Of losing you again.”

“Well,” | say after a beat, pushing my food around the plate. “What can | say? I'm so loved.”

Grayson tilts his head, one brow arching like he’s trying not to smite but fails anyway. “Yeah,” he mutters.

“Loved. Stubborn. Dangerous.”

“Mmm. You say that like it’s not your type.”

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“It is,” he says, leaning on the counter now, arms crossed, eyes dragging over me. “You are.”

His voice dips on that last part-soft, low, like it slips out before he can stop it. | roll my eyes, but | can’t fight the

way my lips tug up. “Stop flirting with your Luna while she’s still so sore.”

“Stop being so hot then.”

“Tss. Pervert.”

Grayson just grins and does whatever he’s doing. And | know I'm pushing my luck here but we have to have this

conversation, “Did you and Pierce talk?” i ask, letting my voice drop again. Softer this time. “Like, really talk?”

His back stiffens almost immediately. “We're fine,” he says flatly.

That's it.

“Fine?” | echo, brows pulling together. “That's all you're giving me?”

He grabs a plate. Sets it down a little too hard. “What do you wantto say, Jess?” he mutters. “That we cried

and hugged it out? That everything's

fixed?”

“No,” | say slowly. “But maybe something more than ‘we're fine. You're his Alpha. He's your Beta. He's your best

friend.”

He finally looks at me, and it’s sharp this time-defensive, tired, like | touched something raw. “Stop talking.”

I blink. Hard.

“Excuse me?”

“Jess,” he mutters, voice already darker, jaw ticking. “Don’t push this right now.”

“Do you know what your problem is, Grayson?”

His eyes flick to mine. “Careful.”

“No. You don’t get to ‘careful’right now,” | snap, standing from the chair so fast it scrapes the floor. “Your

problem is you keep pretending you're the only one who got hurt and suffered.”

He turns fully now. Hands braced on the counter, muscles tense like he’s barely holding himself back.

“Don’t do this.”

“I was the one in that cell.” My voice cracks, loud now, chest heaving. “I was the one screaming for help and

getting silence. | was the one who cback with nightmares stitched into my skin.”

“And you think that doesn’t fucking kill me?” he snaps, stepping forward. “You think | sleep? You think | breathe

easy knowing what he did to you— knowing | didn’t stop it?”

“Then why are you acting like everything's fine? Like breakfast and pancakes can fix it all?”

“Because if | stop pretending, Jess-" His voice breaks, hard and sharp, “-I will fucking lose it.”

We're standing so close now. Too close. Breath colliding. Eyes locked like neither of us knows if we're about to

fight or fall apart or both.

“Then lose it!” | shout. “For once, fucking lose it!”

“You wantto lose it?” he growls, voice low, shaking. “You wantto show you what that looks like?”

His chest rises and falls like he’s two seconds from exploding. My fists are clenched. My whole body vibrating.

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“I want you to feel something, Grayson! Anything real. Anything that isn’t this fake, perfect Alpha maste you

keep wasting like we didn’t post bruns than whole world down?”

His eyes darken. “You want real?”

I don’t move. | don’t blink.

“Give it to me.”

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