Chapter 25
GRAYSON
Damn
We’ve got the girl wolfie.
My wolf’s smug pacing like a beast who’s finally cornered his prey–and now doesn’t know whether to lick her wounds or tear her wide open
again.
She gave it to me.
All oth
Her breath. Her body. Her fucking fight..
And I took it slow. Savored every fucking second like I wasn’t starving for it all this time.
I’ve fed; baby.
I’ve fucking fed.
I take every goddamn piece of her she tries to keep. I take her breath–especially the shallow ones, the desperate ones, the ones caught in her throat when she’s trying not to make a sound. I’ll take those like oxygen, like they’re the only thing keeping me alive. I’ll bleed for that fucking breath.
Because I’m ruined now.
Feral.
Unfuckinghinged.
I adjust the collar of my shirt–still wrinkled from earlier and flip open the report my old man handed me this morning
Yeah, Great
Four pages of scribbled corrections, circled names, and notes like: “Double–check Pierce’s numbers.”
The guy’s meticulous as fuck
Annoyingly so.
“Something good happened?”
I stop whistling–didn’t even realize I was doing–and turn my head, jaw already tight. Fucking Pierce. He’s leaning against the doorframe, cigarette burning low between his fingers, smirking like he thinks he knows something I don’t. I hate that look on him. Hate the way it twitches at the comer of his mouth like he’s about to say something smart
He smirks like the bastard he is, holding the stick up between his fingers. “This?”
I don’t blink, “You drop ash near my car again, grind your fucking hand against the pavement ‘til your bones scream.
He takes a drag anyway–provoking on purpose, like he wants to see if snap his spine in half. Testing me
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“You’re whistling, Gray Smoke slips through his teeth, “You only do that when you’ve fucked someone stupid or gutted something alive.”
He pauses, sniffing the air like he can still smell her on me.
“Which was it?”
I don’t move, and I don’t blink. if I tell him right now I just fucked his little sister, there’s no way this doesn’t end with me breaking something -his face, his skull, something. He’s not ready to hear it, and I’m not in the fucking mood to deal with his temper
“What do you want, Pierce!”
He raises his brows a slow drag of smoke curling past his lips. “So, it was someone,” he murmurs. “Damn, poor gir
I don’t flinch, but my jaw twitches. Fucker.
My fists tighten at my sides, because there’s a thousand ways I could respond to that, and all of them end with him bleeding.
Poor girl?
You mean your sister?
Yeah. Thought so
“You always this interested in my sex life, Pierce!” My voice is dry. Almost bored. “Should I start sending you a recap every Monday moming?”
He doesn’t laugh. He just watches me, eyes narrowing, cigarette burning low between his fingers. He’s not stupid. He’s been around long
enough to know when I’m deflecting.
“Look, if you’re here to throw shade, try harder. Otherwise, get the fuck out of my doorway.” I shove past him, open the office door. “You coming in or planning to lolter out there all day like a stray?”
He stubs the cigarette out against the wall–asshole–then follows me in. Tss. Inside, I toss the folder onto the desk. Papers scatter like I give a
shit.
Pierce strolls over to the window and sighs. “Theard something” he says, eyes fixed outside.
My lips twitch. Of course he did. He always hears something. Like the damn walls speak to him. Like the wind gossips when he’s around.
He’s got this uncanny talent for sniffing out other people’s business like it’s blood in the water. Pack secrets, training rumors, who’s fucking who in the supply shed–Pierce collects them like weapons. Stores them behind that cool look, waiting for the perfect moment to drop them
like a hammer.
“You always do,” I mutter, crossing my arms as lean back against the desk. “Let me guess–more whining from the Delta unit? Or did someone finally catch you spying through the barracks window again?”
He doesn’t even flinch. Just gives this little snort, one side of his mouth twitching like he’s half–amused, half–sick of me. “It’s pot about the pack,” he says, slow. “Not that kind of pack”
That gets my attention.
My spine straightens, breath tightening in my chest.
He turns, jaw tight, brow creased. “There’s been rogue activity. His voice is clipped. Business. “Near the easter borders. Two packs hit. One’s missing a beta. The other–Alpha‘ kid didn’t make it
Fuck
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That hits different. I drag a hand down my face, every muscle in my back locking right.
“When?”
“Last night.” He’s pacing now. Controlled, but fast. Like the movement helps him process. “They’re not just random strikes either. These hits
were coordinated. Timed. Like someone’s been watching them.”
Trun a thumb along my jaw. My teeth grind on instinct. “What about the one who went after your mother? Or your sister?” The words come out colder than I mean. I know he won’t stop until he finds the bastard responsible,
And neither will
“Still nothing,” he mutters, turning to face the window again. Pierce become the head of their family when their father abandoned them. That’s why he hates rogues like he does. “Rogues are getting bold,” he says after a pause, voice clipped, like the words are something he’s been rehearsing. “Coordinated attacks… timed. They don’t just want us weak. They want us pissed. And the last thing we need right now isa fucking war.”
“Yeah, I get it,” mutter, trying to brush off the ache that settles in my chest. “They think they can take us down. They don’t know who they’re fucking with”
But I know Pierce is hearing something I don’t. His jaw tightens again, and his eyes narrow, not at me, but at something in the distance. Like he’s hearing the echoes of our father’s abandonment in every rogue attack, in every piece of the family falling apart.
His voice is low when he speaks again. “I won’t let them get to us. Not now. Not after everything we’ve fought for.”
I don’t have to say anything. He got his own rage and I got ming, But somewhere deep inside on going to make sure the rogues pay for every fucking thing they’ve done–just like he will,
“You’ll get your shot,” I say finally.
y, my voice as hard as I can make it. “But we’re going to make sure this stops before it starts.”
He gives a sharp nod, a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. He knows what’s coming. He knows I’m not the type to back down from a fight.
But what Pierce doesn’t know, what won’t tell him yet, is that the rogues aren’t the only thing I’m after right now. The past keeps fucking with me. My head keeps going back to Jessica, to everything I’m not ready to deal with. And I don’t have time for distractions, but she’s there -her voice, her touch, her eyes.
He doesn’t know his little sister is my mate
And fuck if I’m ready to confront that shir
Every time I think about it, my gut tightens like someone’s squeezing the air out of my lungs. I’ve never been one for patience, especially not when it comes to things I can’t control. And Jessica? She’s everything I can’t control.
She haunts my thoughts in ways I didn’t expect–like the soft curve of her neck, the way her hair falls when she moves, and the fire behind her eyes when she looks at me. It’s like a goddamn magnet pulling me in Every second with her is a goddamn tug–of–war between what! should want and what I can’t keep away from.
But Pierce? He has no idea,
Not a single clue.
If he knew, if he even suspected, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t make it out of this room alive. Because Pierce doesn’t play when it comes to his sister. He’s the one who’s always been there for her, keeping her safe, protecting her from every fucking thing – including me. The know I was planning
So, I keep my mouth shut. I let him believe whatever the fuck he wants. It’s easier that way. For now
US–45
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Chapter 25
The problem is, every minute I spend pretending I don’t care, pretending I’m not falling into whatever this is, just makes it worse. My thoughts keep drifting back to her, to that damn kiss. It’s like my body knows what my brain refuses to admit. I’m not just after her need
her.
And the more I try to fight it, the harder it gets to breathe,
But Pierce won’t know. Not yet. And I do whatever it takes to keep that truth buried.
