<b>Chapter </b><b>75 </b>
JESSICA
I’m gonna lose it.
My body’s going rogue, my head’s on fire, and I can’t stop thinking about that damn phone. One stupid move and everything blows up. One missed second and someone finds Theo’s backup n before I do.
“Hey, Jess-”
Shit.
I almost punch Pierce’s annoying face when he appeared beside me. He looks like he just went from a morning run.
“You okay?” he asks, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water.
“Dol look okay to you?” I snap.
He nces at me. His eyes narrow. “You’re sweating.”
My spine straightens.
I wipe my palms down my leggings like that’ll erase the sheen clinging to my skin, the way my breath’sing too fast, too shallow.
“It’s hot.”
“You’re pale too,” he adds.
Come on, why does this asshole have time for this? He steps toward me like he’s about to say something else–maybe ask something, maybe push–and! stop breathing.
If he sees too much, he’ll tell Grayson. He always tells Grayson.
“Pierce, seriously—just back off.”
I need to get out of here. Now. Before he sees too much. Before I give myself away. Before everything falls apart.
My brother might love me, but Pierce’s loyalty is to the pack first. It’s what makes him Grayson’s right hand.
It’s what makes him dangerous to me right now.
“Pierce, back the fuck off before I tear your throat out.”
“Jess-”
The front door ms open so hard it bounces against the wall.
“Fucking fantastic,” Pierce mutters, rolling his eyes.
Riot strides in like a king of his own delusion. Seriously?
“Well, well. The princess and her guard dog.” His voice is ice cold, amused at his own joke.
Pierce takes a step forward. “Learn to knock asshole.”
“Why? Afraid I’ll catch you two doing something you shouldn’t?” Riot’s gaze slides to me, lingering too long, too ufortable. “You locked <b>your </b>
window?‘
<b>1/4 </b>
11:34 <b>Wed </b>20 Aug
“What the fuck does that mean?” Pierce growls quickly snatching Riot’s cor.
Riotughs, actuallyughs while Pierce has him by the throat. “God, you’re predictable. So easy to push your buttons.”
“Let him go Pierce, he’s just fucking with you,” I snap, trying to save myself from whatever this is.
But there’s something in Riot’s eyes that makes my blood run cold. Something knowing.
I’m just so d Pierce actually listens. The moment he let Riot go, I grabbed his arm and pull him outside of the house. I know he’s here to annoy me for the training session.
Once were alone, I shove him on the tree hoping it re–arranged his guts. “What the fuck do you want?”
“Whoa! So early for this,” Riotughs, not even flinching when my hands m him against the rough bark. He’s acting like this is a game–like I’m amusing him.
“Answer the question,” Thiss, inches from his face.
His eyes drop to my mouth, then crawl back up, that smirk never leaving. “Maybe I just wanted to see you, princess.”
“Bullshit.”
“No bullshit. Training doesn’t start for an hour, and I was bored.” His hands suddenly grab my waist, fingers digging in just enough to make my breath catch. “Thought we could have some fun.”
I try to pull back but he holds me there, thumbs pressing into my hipbones. “Get your hands off me.”
“You put your hands on me first,” he whispers, leaning closer until I can smell mint on his breath. “Mixed signals much?”
“Let. Go.”
“Fine. So feisty.”
Riot steps back, his hand brushing down my arm as he retreats. I watch him dig in his pocket before pulling out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. My eyebrows lift—I didn’t know he smoked. He catches me staring and taps one out, offering it to me with dirt–stained fingers.
“Want to try it?” His voice drops lower, almost intimate. “Bet you’ve never been bad before, have you?”
“Can I?”
I’m so stress I need something.
Riot looks surprised, those dark eyes widening just a fraction before that cocky smirk returns. “Well, well. Princess wants to y after all.”
He lights the cigarette with a flick of his lighter, taking a deep drag before holding it out to me. I reach for it, but he pulls back at thest second, eyes dancing.
“Ah–ah. Come get it.”
“You’re such an asshole,” I mutter, stepping closer.
As I reach again, his free hand catches my wrist, thumb pressing against my pulse point. “Your heart’s racing,” he says, voice dropping <b>to </b><b>a </b><b>grave </b>whisper. “Nervous?”
I snatch the cigarette from his fingers. “You wish.”
I take a drag way too deep for a first–timer, immediately feeling the burn hit my lungs. I double over coughing, smokeing out in pitiful <b>bursts </b>between gasps..
11:34 <b>Wed</b><b>, </b><b>20 </b><b>Aug </b>
Riotughs, a low, rumbling sound that somehow pisses me off and sends a shiver down my spine at the same time.<b>” </b>Damn<b>, </b>girl<b>. </b>Slow down
I try to re at him through watering eyes, but coughing fit takes over.
“Here,” he says, suddenly closer, one hand sliding around to press against the small of my back. “Stand straight. You’re asking it worse hunched over like
that.”
His other hand takes the cigarette, fingers brushing mine in a way that sends an entirely different kind of heat through my body.
“Breathe,” he instructs, voice suddenly low and serious. “Shallow breaths.”
I follow his direction, acutely aware of how his thumb is now making small circles against my spine. When my breathing steadies, he brings the cigarette back to my lips.
“Open,” hemands.
This time, when I inhale, his fingers guide my wrist, controlling how much I take in. “That’s it,” he murmurs, watching my lips with an intensity that makes my stomach flip. “Nice and easy.”
The smoke fills my mouth, less harsh this time, and when I exhale, his eyes follow the cloud that escapes between us.
“Better?” he asks, still not removing his hand from my back.
“Yes,” I admit, hating how breathless I sound–and how it has nothing to do with the cigarette anymore.
We share the cigarette for several minutes, him shotgunning the smoke into my mouth, his hands alternating between firm grips on my neck and <b>softer</b>, almost possessive touches along my jaw.
“Training starts now,” he finally says, dropping the cigarette and grinding <b>it </b>under his heel. “And trust me, Princess, cigarettes are the easiest thing you’ll be putting between those pretty lips today.”
My face burns at his implication. “You’re disgusting.”
He justughs, the sound harsh and mocking. “And you’re too easy to rile up. Gotta toughens that skin if you want to survive around here.”
I follow him in the field, which is now I call Riot’s training ground because I notice he really don’t meddle with the other wolves.
<i>My </i>lungs are burning after three brutal rounds of whatever the hell he calls “basic training.” More like torture with an audience. Sweat drips down my back as I copse onto the grass, trying not to look as pathetic as feel.
He drops down beside <i>me</i>, too close, always too damn close.
“Giving up already?” Riot’s voice drips with mockery as he stretches out beside me, not a single drop of sweat on him. Meanwhile, I’m here practically drowning in my own.
“Fuck off,” I manage between gasps. “Three rounds of your sadistic bullshit is enough.”
Heughs, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “That was just the warm–up. The real wolves would eat you alive.”
I turn my head to re at him, finding his face inches from mine. “What if…I don’t have a wolf?”
“It’s always been my fear, you know?” I continue, staring at the clouds. “What if I’m just…meant for nothing? What if I’m just meant to be <b>alone</b>?<b>” </b>
He goes quiet–so quiet I wonder if he’s even breathing. When I chance a nce at him, his jaw is tight, eyes looking directly at me.
“It’s okay Jess.”
Then he does thest thing I expect. He reaches over, brushes a sweaty strand of hair from my forehead. His fingers linger<b>, </b>just <b><i>for </i></b><b>a </b>second.
“There is nothing wrong being alone.” He says, eyes still on mine. “Sometimes it’s the only way to realize that, in this world, the only person <b>you </b>really need… is you.”
AD
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