hapter 12


    <b>Chapter </b><b>12 </b>


    GRAYSON


    “Dude, she’s gonna cry again tonight.”


    Pierce nudges my elbow like that’s something I want to hear. I don’t even turn to look at him. My eyes are still locked on the woods. The path she tore through, all wild breath and rage. He keeps talking.


    “You could’ve eased up. One morep? She was dead on her feet.”


    “She needed to learn.”


    “Grayson-”


    “I said she needed to learn.” My voice is low. Final. And if he says her name again, I swear to the fucking Moon I’ll snap.He doesn’t get it. No one gets it. She’s not just some omega. She’s my Luna. And my Luna doesn’t get to be weak. She doesn’t get to fall apart in the middle of a battlefield just because someone hurt her feelings. Not even when that someone is me.l exhale through my nose, hands flexing at my sides like they’re itching for something to hold. ]


    My cock’s still half–hard. Still aching from that goddamn kiss earlier–when her body pressed into mine and she moaned against my mouth like she was made for me.That sound wrecked me. I can still taste her. Still feel the way she arched. How her fingers trembled. The way her throat pulsed when I licked it.


    Fuck


    And now I’m the viin.


    Now she’s running through a storm like I didn’t just humiliate her in front of the pack. Because I did. I had to. Because love doesn’t matter if she’s not strong enough to survive what’sing. Because no one gets to break her–but me and I’ll rebuild her after.Stronger. Sharper. Mine.


    “You’re cruel sometimes, man,” Pierce mutters.


    “Good,” I say. “She’ll remember it.”


    After a few minutes, Pierce gave up waiting beside me. He muttered something I didn’t bother listening to, then walked off across the field, leaving me alone in the middle of the storm like some goddamn fool.


    The others are already gone–tucked into dorms, hiding from the cold, from the thunder that’s been crawling closer with every breath–but I’m still here. Sitting on the soaked grass, elbows resting on my knees, eyes fixed on the edge of the woods like she’s going toe running out of them at any second.


    I told her one morep.


    She agreed.


    So where the fuck is she?


    I <b>drag </b>a hand down <b>my </b>face, pushing rain away from my eyes as the wind shifts and another crack of thunder tears


    <b>1/5 </b>


    12:43 <b>Wed</b>, 30 Jun


    through the sky. The downpour gets harder. Louder. It pelts my shoulders, soaks through my shirt, seeps into my boots-


    but I don’t move. I can’t.


    She’s out there.


    Jessica. My omega. My goddamn Luna.


    I let my gaze scan the treeline again. Nothing moves. Not a single branch. Not a sound. Not even the faint rustle of her breath trying to hide from me.


    What the hell is taking you so long, baby?


    You’re not that slow. You’re not that weak.


    You’ve got enough fire in you to finish ap in a storm and curse me out on the way back, so where the fuck are you?


    I probably look insane–sitting here in the pouring rain, waiting for a girl who wouldn’t even look at me an hour ago without wanting to p me–but I don’t care.


    I told her to finish thep. I needed her to finish it. And now every second she doesn’te out of those woods, my gut twists tighter and my jaw starts to ache from how hard I’m grinding my teeth.


    Another rumble shakes the sky and I finally exhale, sharp and rough, dragging my ass off the ground.


    Enough waiting.


    If she finished thep and decided to detour to her room without telling me, I swear I’ll find her and put her on her fucking knees. I’ll drag her right back out here and make her do ten moreps with my name in her mouth. I’ll-


    No.


    Something’s wrong.


    It hits me all at once–no sound, no sign–but I feel it like a punch to the chest. The kind of stillness that doesn’t mean peace. The kind that means danger. That means silence right before the scream.


    I take one step forward.


    Then another.


    Then I start walking–fast–toward the woods.


    “GRAYSON!”


    My lungs drag in air too fast. My foot slips in the dirt, catches,unches forward again. Rain pelts my face, my arms, my chest. I don’t fucking feel it.


    “Grayson!” Her voice rips through the trees, high and broken—and everything inside me snaps.


    <b>My </b><b>lungs </b>seize. My head jerks toward the sound so fast my neck cracks.


    <b>215 </b>


    12:43 Wed, <b>30 </b>Jul Gti ?


    “Fuck. Jess–fuck.”


    My feetunch forward.


    71%


    +28


    I hit the tree line like a fucking animal, shoulder–mming branches out of the way, ducking under limbs, boots pounding into the earth as rain slices across my face like ws.


    “Grayson!”


    “Damn it,” I hiss under my breath. “Damn it, baby. Where are you?” My vision tunnels. The trees blur past me–shadows and bark and soaked leaves pping against my skin–and I barely register any of it.


    All I see is her. All I hear is her voice echoing in my skull like it’s carved there. Scream again, baby. Give me one more. Just


    one more.


    “Fucking scream again,” I mutter, breath tearing out of me. “Let me find you. Just scream–one more time,e on—”


    My boots skid through a patch of mud, sliding, catching–I barely keep upright.


    I nce around–frantic now–eyes scanning the trees like they’ll split open and show me what’s hurting her.


    “Jess,” I breathe, mouth dry, throat tight. “I swear to the gods-”


    My chest heaves. My ribs ache from the pressure building in them.


    I close my eyes for one second–just one second–and try to feel her. Fuck. My eyes fly open. She’s not alone. I run. I fucking tear across the field like my bones are fire and my blood is knives. I don’t care if I break something. I don’t care if I bleed. I don’t care if my legs give out or if I lose my lungs in the sprint.


    She’s scared.


    She’s terrified.


    My woman is fucking terrified.


    Im into the trees at full speed. Branches whip across my face. Thorns rip my arms open. Bark shreds my knuckles as l shove past every fucking obstacle in the way.


    Jessica.


    On her back. In the dirt. Shirt ripped open. Chest heaving. Mud smeared across her stomach. Her legs are kicking, but not fast enough. Her hands are scratching the earth like she can dig her way out.


    “Get off me!” she screams, voice cracking. “Fuck–please! Get off me!”


    I see red.


    <b>My </b>vision narrows so sharp I nearly ck out.


    <b>1 </b><b>fucking </b>lunge.


    12:43 Wed, <b>30 </b><b>Jul </b>


    We hit the ground in a tangle of ws and teeth, mud exploding around us as the storm beats down. The bastard growls, tries to get leverage, but I’m already swinging, already shing for his fucking throat.


    He bites me.


    Right in the forearm–teeth tearing through skin–and I roar. Not in pain. In rage.


    You want a fucking taste?


    I drive my fist into his snout, bone crunching under my knuckles. He lets go, and I grab the back of his head and m it into the mud until it dents around his skull. He kicks–tries to roll–but I bite his fucking shoulder. Hard. Deep. I taste blood. I taste fur. I taste victory.


    He snarls again–tries to rise–but I m him back down, hard, my hand locking around his throat. I drive my knee into his ribs, feel the crack underneath me, my ws already digging into his chest like I’m reaching for something to tear out.


    “You fucking want her?” I growl through clenched teeth.


    1 grab his jaw, force his face to mine–blood already gushing, mixing with rain–and I drag my ws down his cheek in one savage swipe. Deep. Slow. Meant to mark.


    Let that fucking scar remind him who he tried to take from me.


    He roars. Twists.


    I don’t let go.


    “She’s. Fucking. MINE.”


    He bucks hard–shoulder to chest–throws his weight into the push and shoves me off bnce. I skid in the mud, but I’m already swinging, ws out, aiming to rip his head clean off his fucking neck.


    He’s fast.


    Faster than I thought.


    He bolts just as my ws slice through air–just as my fist drives down into nothing.


    “NO!” I snarl, voice cracked wide open, lungs burning. “GET BACK HERE, YOU FUCKING COWARD!”


    But he’s gone.


    Bleeding. Scarred. Running like the pathetic bastard he is.


    I I stay there, kneeling in the mud, chest heaving, fist clenched tight enough to shake.


    One fucking second more.


    One second, and I would’ve killed him.


    Behind <b>me</b>, I hear <b>her </b>breathing–choked and shallow.


    12:43 Wed, <b>30 </b>Jul Gi


    Jessica.


    Fuck.


    My knees hit the mud. My hands go straight to her shoulders–gentle, shaking, <i>too </i>rough–but I can’t stop them. I can’t think. I don’t know how to fucking touch her right now without falling apart.


    “Jess,” I rasp. My voice cracks in half. “Fuck, Jess–are you okay?”


    Her lips part.


    “I don’t…” her voice is barely there. Broken. “Grayson, I…“:


    She winces.


    My heart fucking stops.


    I slide closer, gather her into my arms, press her against my chest like she’s going to vanish if I blink. My hand cradles the back of her head, the other gripping her waist–steady, tight, desperate.


    “Shh,” I whisper, kissing her temple, breathing her in like oxygen. “You’re okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe now. I’ve got you, baby, I’ve fucking got you.”


    Her fingers twitch against my chest. Rain slides down her face, mixing with the tears she won’t let fall.


    “I thought–he-” she chokes.


    @


    S


    My hand finds her face<i>, </i>thumbs brushing mud from her cheek. I tip her chin up, eyes scanning every inch, checking for blood, bruises, anything that shouldn’t be there.


    “You’re safe now, Jess,” I whisper, voice low and ruined. “You’re fucking safe. I promise.”


    ?


    <b>515 </b>