Chapter 1
Chapter 1
JESSICA
I have a confession to make.
I think the Alpha hates me.
No–despises me. That might be the right term because there is absolutely no logical reason why I am standing here, simply existing, doing nothing, and yet somehow, he still finds a reason to kill me with those goddamn eyes.
Like, come on? Really?
But if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my seventeen years within the Blackmoor Pack, it’s that Gray Westwood never stares at me without a reason. Or maybe–just maybe–those eyes were made to fuck me and ruin me all at once.
“Uh–oh,” Logan mutters beside me. “What did you do this time, Jes?”
“What?” I scoff, crossing my arms. “I exist. That’s usually enough.”
Logan hums, eyes flicking toward the other side of the yard. Every pack member is expected to train, to fight, to serve. That’s why after class, we’re mandated to come here.
PO
“Mm. That so? Because Gray Westwood is looking at you like he either wants to fight you or-”
“Or what?”
His grin turns wicked. “Or fuck you against a wall.”
My stomach drops.
“Shut up.” I glare at him. “He hates me.”
“Hates you?” Logan smirks. “Or wants you?”
Oh, gods. Not this again. I roll my eyes, but it doesn’t shake the feeling.
“Come on,” he grins. “All that tension? The arguing? The way he watches you like you personally offended his ancestors?” He leans in. “Repressed. Sexual. Energy.”
I snort. “Yeah, no. If anything, he wants me dead.”
Logan snickers. “Okay, but imagine-”
“No.” I cut him off immediately.
“Oh, come on.” Logan grins, eyes gleaming. “Just for a second. Imagine him-” he tilts his head, voice dropping lower, “pinning you against a wall, all muscle and command, those big fucking hands-”
“Just for a second,” he teases. “Imagine him-” he tilts his head, voice slipping into something dangerous, “pinning you against a wall, all muscle and command, those big fucking hands-”
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Chapter 1
I freeze. My body betrays me.
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However, before I can stop it, the image forms. Gray pressing me against the cold stone. His body heat licking at my skin. His fingers fisting in my hair, dragging my head back-
I rip the thought away so fast it feels like I’ve been burned.
No. Absolutely not.
I snap my head toward Logan, scowling so hard I swear the air should sizzle. “Shut. Up.”
Logan outright cackles. “Oh my gods, you did just picture it.”
Why is he even my best friend? I shove him. Hard. He just laughs harder, stumbling back a step.
“Whatever,” I mutter, heat licking up my spine. My skin is too tight, my pulse too wild because of what I freaking imagined. I push my hair behind my ear, letting my lips curl. “I’d rather have a beast fuck me than-”
“Is that so, Jess?”
The words slither down my spine, smooth as silk, sharp as fangs. My lips part, and very slowly, I turn–only to find Gray Westwood standing in front of me, his eyes burning with rage.
But–how? He was just across the yard-
Oh, fuck.
Gray steps forward, close enough that I feel his breath on my skin. He leans in, voice low and dangerously amused. “Didn’t think you had a preference, Jess.” His voice is low, casual–dangerously amused. “Beasts over Alphas, huh? That why you’ve been running your mouth all these years?”
I shift slightly, trying to put some space between us. But I can still feel his breath on my neck. “I–l..Did..you hear everything?”
His nostrils flare. Before I can process it, his hand moves–fast, decisive– his fingers move fast, curling around my wrist before I can retreat.
I inhale sharply, pulse slamming against my ribs.
Slowly, he lifts my hand. Guides it forward. Until–heat. My palm presses against something firm. Hard. My breath catches as I glance down, realization crashing over me. His abdomen. Warm, sculpted muscle beneath my fingertips.
Moon Goddess.
Gray exhales, slow and controlled. His grip flexes over my wrist, like he’s waiting. Watching. Drinking in my reaction. My core clenches.
No. Fuck. No.
Gray’s golden eyes flicker, his grip flexing over my wrist. His own breathing is heavier now, but his smirk is still there, sharp
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Chapter 1
and devastating.” “Tell me, Ash.” “Would you still rather f*ck a beast?”
My breath shatters. My pulse is a frantic, betraying thing against my ribs.
Gray’s gaze never wavers, watching me–waiting.
“I…”
The word dies on my tongue.
Because I don’t know what the fuck I was about to say.
Because my body is still pressed against his, my palm still against the impossible warmth of his skin, and Gray Westwood- the bane of my existence, the Alpha I swore I hated–is still holding me there.
Waiting for me to break first.
I think that has always been his goal. I think Gray Westwood has always loved watching me fall apart. I rip my wrist away. Or–1 try. “Let me go.”
He didn’t.
My gaze shifted from everyone around us but no one will come and help me because in Blackmoor Pack, no one challenges the son of the Alpha who is also the strongest male warrior. “LET.ME.GO.”
“You sure you want that?”
My stomach flips. I scowl. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He hums, his golden eyes dragging over my face–down to my lips, then lower. For the briefest moment, I see his throat bob, like he’s swallowing back something dangerous
After a few moments, he shoved me back harshly and stepped away from me like he’s trying to gather himself.
I didn’t know what was happening to him but all I know is that when I tried to move away, he roughly grabbed my chin and intensely look at me. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Away from you,” I said, shoving my hands on his chest.
The second I shove him, a low grow! rumbles from his chest. In a blink, he snatches my chin, grip firm. Then, slowly- deliberately–his nose drags up the side of my neck
My
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