His Trouble Maker

Jessica

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Is it wrong to make out with my Alpha right in front of my house?

Goddess, probably but it doesn’t stopfrom chasing Grayson'’s lips as he pinnedharder into the hood of

his car.

A drop my head against his shoulder, a laugh slipping out of me. This is so insane. “I should go inside,” | mutter,

heart thundering.

His mouth drags down my neck, teeth grazing. “You should go,” he mutters, voice low and rough. “Or we'll be

late for patrol.”

My brows pull together. “Patrol?”

He watches me, eyes dark with something feral, something too alive. Then his fingers-those rough, calloused

fingers that always find the most fragile parts of me-tuck a strand of hair behind my ear with an intimacy that

makes my knees scream. “Pierce didn’t tell you?” he says.

| shake my head, throat closing.

“Toldwhat?”

His jaw ticks. Grayson’s eyes drag over my face like he’s memorizingone last tbefore he says something

that'll gut me.

“Tellwhat, Grayson?”

“We're classifying ranks next week. You're in the trials.”

My breath catches. My stomach drops.

“What?”

“You'll be tested. Against the others.” His voice is low, nearly a growl. “Then after that, we're going to discuss if

what department you were going to be assigned to.”

My stomach drops.

Grayson steps closer again, body aligned to mine, his mouth brushing my ear.

“You'll pass, Jessica,” he growls. “You hear me? You're not ending up hidden away, filing reports, serving food like

sgood little girl.” His hand tightens at my waist. “I'll make sure of it. I'll drag you to the top if | have to.” His

lips skim the shell of my ear. “You were born to fight. And I'm going to make damn sure they see that. Even if |

have to break you to prove it.”

A few hours later, | still couldnt breathe right as | hear Grayson deliver the news to others. We were round up on

the filed listening to his

instructions.

“Fights will be one-on-one, no interference. We'll be watching everything-how you hit, how you fall, how fast you

get the fuck back up. You're not just fighting to win. You're fighting to prove what you're worth to this pack.”

His eyes skimmed across us like we were nothing but bodies to be broken open and sorted into piles.

“The top five,” Grayson says, pausing, gaze slicing through the group, “get first pick of assignments. Warrior

units. Defense positions. Patrol command. The rest...” A cold smile. “Well. You better like kitchens and border

clerking.”

| can’t swallow. | glance around-most of them are older. Bigger. Harder. | feel like I'm already bleeding and no

one’s laid a hand on me.

1/3

Chapter 42

“You got a week,” he growls. “Train. Hunt. Learn to fucking think.”

| stare at the spot where he left before, | turn to Logan besidewho is already nervous as hell.

“He'll definitely choose you, right?”

| let out a shaky breath. “Only if he’s desperate.”

Logan laughed. “Con. You're fast. You don’t hold back. That's more than half these guys.”

“Right. The other half is having actual muscle mass.”

He glances atsideways. “You've got rage. That counts.”

I shrug, biting the inside of my cheek. Rage burns hot, but what if it burns out too fast? | made a promise to

myself I'm not going to end up behind a fucking desk.

I'm not going to rot in scorner of the pack house filing reports while the others bleed for the territory.

| shove my sleeves up, step out onto the dirt. It’s dry, packed down hard from all the boots. | can feel the

vibrations of footfalls, people

starting to circle, square off.

Logan follows close, staying half a step behind. “So... partners?”

“I'm not training with you.”

“Why not?”

1 glance over my shoulder. “Because | like you.”

“That's insulting.”

“Exactly.”

He groans. | stop walking. Turn.

“You wanna get better?”

“Yeah.”

“Then don’t train with someone who'll go easy on you.”

Logan looks away, jaw tight.

He knows where | am going. | turn on my heel without another word. However, just as | was about to round up on

the corner, | freeze seeing the Grayson’s father and Aria laughing about something.

| quickly bow my head and greeted him. ” Alpha.”

Grayson'’s father doesn’t look up immediately. Instead, he lets out a low chuckle, and when he finally glances my

way, his eyes narrow like he’s measuring me, trying to figure out my name.

“Jessica,” he says it with recognition. “Didn't realize practice was over already. She's Pierce younger sister. Very

different though in terms of strength and ability.”

The insult stings, but | don’t let it show. | force a smile that’s all teeth. “The practice just ended alpha,” | bite out.

2/3

Chapter 42

Aria, standing a little too close to him, tilts her head like she’s sperfect little princess. “You're going home

after practice?” she remarks, her tone too sweet, almost insulting. “I guess, the young wolves in our pack have

more dedication, huh?”

| grit my teeth, not giving her the satisfaction of my irritation.

The Alpha chuckles low, that dark sound that doesn’t reach his eyes. But when his gaze finally lands on me, | feel

the sting of his disappointment cut deeper than any of Aria’s little jabs. His lips curl like he’s tasting something

bitter, and his words drop from his mouth like daggers, “Go back and train again, omega.”

Omega.

It feels like a brand, a mark | can’t rub off, and the bitterness swells in my throat.

Grayson'’s father turns away, walking toward the center of the field where the others are gathered. Aria follows,

her heels clicking sharply against the dirt. | watch them for a moment, the urge to step forward and rip her down

a few levels clawing at me. To shove her off her high horse, to remind her that she’s no better than the dirt she’s

walking on.

But | stop myself.

There’s no point. Not now.

Instead, | swallow that fury. Let it settle deep in my chest, where it can simmer. Let it burn. Aria will get what's

coming to her. Sooner or later, she'll slip, and when she does? I'll be there to grind her into the dirt.

3/3

AD

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