His Trouble Maker

Chapter 176

Chapter 176

GRAYSON

“You're not going to kill me, aren't you?”

Stupid Jack.

Sometimes, | wonder why his pack has chosen him to be their alpha.

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It's fucking scorching, and | might as well melt under this bastard sun. Sweat drips down my spine, sticking my

shirt to my skin, and every step kicks up more dust than | care to breathe.

Jack's ahead of me, shoulders tense, jaw tight, pretending he’s not feeling the heat. He's good at pretending

always has been. Doesn't makewant to kill him any less.

“Not gonna kill me, huh?” he throws over his shoulder, voice casual, baiting me.

I snort and grab the back of his neck, squeezing until | feel the tremor in his pulse. “Keep talking. See what

happens.

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He stumbles when | shove him forward, boots crunching on dry earth.

“Where are we going anyway?”

“You'll see.”

The rogues are a mess. Starved, broken, wild. A dozen cages lined up like skind of execution ground,

shadows slicing across rusted bars. One hybrid throws itself against the steel, frothing at the mouth, claws

leaving bloody streaks. Another crouches in the corner, ribs sharp under mangy fur, its eyes glowing like coals in

a pit.

Jack slows. Instinct. His wolf knows what this place is.

“Relax,” | say, voice flat, cold. “They're chained. For now.”

He shootsa look over his shoulder, lips curling back from his teeth. “You enjoying this?”

I grin, slow and sharp, like I've got all the tin the world to break him. “You have no idea.”

| walk past him, claws sliding free, just because | know it'll piss him off. The rogues rattle the bars as | move, the

smell of fear and fury thick in the air, coating my tongue like copper.

I slam my fist into the nearest cage, iron groaning under the hit. The wolf inside shrieks, ears flat, tail tucked.

Jack flinches, a tiny twitch of muscle | almost miss.

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“You get soft, this is what happens,” | say, voice carrying over the snarls. “Why did you bring Jessica to this place

anyway?”

Jack huffs a laugh, bitter. “Because you're not giving credit to her strength.”

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I'm on him in a second, claws sliding free, one hand fisting in his collar as | slam him against a rusted cage so

hard the bars screech.

“Stronger?”

“She can handle it,” he bites back, lips curling, breathing hot between us. “She’s not sdelicate thing for you

to guard like treasure.”

My laugh is low, humorless, and dangerous. “You think | guard her because she’s delicate? No, Jack. | guard her

because she’s mine. And because this filthy thing ruined her-" | slam him harder, the cage rattling violently, the

rogue inside yelping. “-enough and | don’t want to let her suffer again.”

Jack’s eyes flash gold, his wolf straining under his skin, but he doesn’t pushoff. | let him go and went to the

last cage to see Logan.

Yes, Logan.

| need to see if there is an improvement with him. We've been doing everything that we can to analyze their

status.

Every week, | drag healers down here, make them comb through blood and bone for answers, anything that'll

stop this sickness from eating through my pack like wildfire.

And every week, | leave with nothing but more bodies rotting in the dirt.

If there's no cure, no fix, then all | can do is end them. Put them down like rabid dogs before they rip through

what's left of us.

And gods help me, they're all mine. Every last one of these creatures in these cages used to wear my crest, used

to fight beside me. My wolves. My family.

Now they're snarling ghosts in skin, hybrids twisted into something feral and wrong.

|

press a hand to the bars, and Logan lifts his head. His eyes arent gold anymore, not the bright shade |

remember. They're black pits, rimmed with red veins, hollow of anything human or wolf.

“Grayson...” The sound of my non his cracked lips nearly guts me.

I crouch until my knees grind into the dirt, close enough to taste the rot on his breath, close enough to see his

jaw trembling like he’s fighting himself.

“Logan.” My voice is gravel and threat, claws screeching sparks off the bars. “Talk to me. Don’t you fucking fold

onnow.”

Jack shifts behind me, boots grinding in the dirt, but he doesn’t say a word. Smart. One word from him right now

and I'll rip his fucking throat out just to quiet the noise.

“Logan!”

He stares atfor a long time, unblinking, wolf and man both gone from those eyes. And then, slowly, he

laughs again, a horrible, broken sound that echoes through the clearing. “Alpha Grayson-"

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Chapter 176

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The way he says it makes my skin crawl-mocking, sing-song, dripping rot and madness. He tilts his head back,

lips peeling into a grin too wide for his face. “Having fun with the traitor?!”

He’s worse. So much worse than the last t| saw him.

Logan suddenly jerks, a strangled yelp tearing out of his throat, and fuck.

“Kill me! Kill me!”

“Logan!” | bark his name, but it only makes him convulse harder.

His head snaps up, eyes glowing that sick, faded yellow, veins spiderwebbing black across his face. The wolf in

him is barely there, buried under whatever infection is eating him alive.

Jack mutters behind me, voice taut with dread. “He’s gone.”

“Shut your mouth.”

Logan throws himself against the bars again, and his body shudders violently, foam and blood streaking his chin.

He rasps, voice shredded raw: “Kill me, Alpha. Please.”

| can’t move. Can't breathe.

For one heartbeat I'm rooted there, staring at what's left of him, my wolf howling in my skull, every instinct

screaming to rip the cage apart and put him down like a mercy kill.

“Grayson.”

I don’t turn.

“Grayson.” Closer this time, a warning edge.

“Don’t.” My voice comes out low, guttural.

Then Logan screams again, a sound that rattles bone.

Something insnaps.

| lunge for the cage, claws out, and that’s when Jack slams intofrom the side, grip like a vice on my arm.

“Move.”

| snarl, twisting on him, but he doesn’t budge. He meets my eyes, gold bleeding into his own, his expression

carved from stone.

“Letgo-

“No,” he growls, shovingback, his weight pinningagainst the wall hard enough to rattle dust from the

rafters. “You're not putting him down like this.”

“Jack-"

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Chapter 176

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“You think he’s begging for mercy?” His voice is low, dangerous. “He’s rabid. He doesn’t know you. And you're

one second from making a choice you'll regret every tyou close your fucking eyes.”

The words sink intolike fangs, and for a second, all | can hear is the rattle of his cage, the wet rasp of his

breath, the smell of blood and rot.

Jack doesn’t letgo.

And I don’t know if | hate him or need him for it.