Chapter 122
Chapter 122
JESSICA
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He didn’t tell me where they were going. He didn’t even look at me when he left. I said it. I called myself the alpha. I said it with my whole chest like I had the right, like I had the rank, like I didn’t care what it did to him.
But i did.
I knew what I was doing. I knew what it would sound like. I knew exactly what I wanted it to feel like when I said it out loud in front of him, and I still did it.
Because I wanted it. I wanted him to see me for what I am. I wanted him to stop protecting me like I’m something that can’t tear.
But now he knows.
Now he knows I’ve been holding it, biting it back, waiting for the second he’d push me far enough to say it out loud.
Grayson can do whatever he wants with that. He can run for a day or a month or the rest of his fucking life. That’s his right. But one thing is already written. If he can’t stand beside me as I am, then I’ve already lost him.
I plant my foot against the floor and pull with everything I have.
“Fuck.”
A low sound tore out of my throat as I yanked again, wrists burning raw against the metal, arms trembling from the strain. I didn’t know if the warmth dripping down my forearm was sweat or blood anymore, but I didn’t stop. I braced my heel against the floor and pulled harder, until my shoulder screamed and my breath hitched sharp through clenched teeth.
“Come on,” I whispered. My voice sounded like it came from someone else. “Fucking move.”
I let out a sound halfway between a breath and a growl before my whole body freezes sniffing that familiar scent.
No…that can’t be.
So faint at first I almost didn’t notice. But it slipped through the rot of wolfsbane like it had always known the way. It found me. Burrowed straight down into my lungs and curled itself tight around something I couldn’t name.
My wolf stirred before I could stop her, before I could push it down, and I hated how fast she woke for him. I hated that my body
remembered.
My throat locked up.
Please don’t let it be real.
I blinked hard, trying to shake the scent from my nose, but it only got stronger–thicker, fuller, coiling through the rot like smoke curling under the door of a burning house
No one had opened the door. I didn’t hear footsteps. I didn’t hear anything at all.
But I felt it.
My stomach twisted violently, like it knew before I did.
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Chapter 122
A soft breath escaped me. Then another. I felt dizzy and dry all at once, as if my blood had forgotten how to move.
Don’t. Please. Not now. Not here.
The scent came closer.
My limbs started to shake–not from effort this time, but something colder. Deeper. The kind of fear that makes your muscles go soft and your mind go white.
I shut my eyes tight, but I couldn’t shut him out. I felt him before I heard him, the way prey feels the breath of the predator before the teeth come down.
And then-
“Hello, Jess.”
My eyes flew open.
That voice.
“Miss me?”
My wolf slammed against my ribs and then shrank just as fast, ears flat, belly low, spine curled under the weight of him.
And me–I just stood there, cold sweat slicking my back, heart thudding so loud I couldn’t hear anything else. I didn’t have to look. I knew that voice. I knew that smell. I knew what came next.
“Riot.”
One second the room was empty, and the next–he was there. Fast. Horrifyingly fast. I didn’t even finish inhaling because Riot’s hands are already on my throat.
“I missed you too, Jess.”
Riot smirk, and I felt so dirty when I felt his tongue dragging along my cheeks. “Your boyfriend prepared you for me, huh?” He cruelly said, enjoying the sight of me in chains. “Come on, baby. Don’t act too terrified.”
But I am. Every inch of me’s locked up, trembling under the weight of him, breath stuttering in my chest like it’s trying to hide. My wolf’s silent. My rage’s useless. And I can’t stop the way my mouth opens just enough to pull in air, just enough to keep from passing out.
“Get off me.”
He just grins wider. “And why would I do that?” Riot’s hand tightens around my throat–not choking me, not yet–but squeezing just enough to make my blood thrum louder in my ears. “Fuck,” he breathes, and it’s filthy. Starved. “You’re shaking.”
I am. I can’t stop it.
“Are you that scared of me, Jess?”
I don’t answer. I keep my teeth clenched so tight my jaw aches.
He leans in closer anyway, cheek brushing mine like we’re something intimate. “You should be,” Riot says, mouth dragging slow along my jaw, like he’s memorizing the shape of it again. “I’d be terrified if I were you.”
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The scent of him gets worse. Dense. Possessive. All teeth and heat and damp leather soaked in blood. It wraps around me like a hand, sliding between my legs, slipping down my throat, making it impossible to breathe clean.
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“Thought you could run,” he murmurs, brushing my skin with the back of his knuckles like it’s affection. “Thought you could lie to– your little pack and pretend that bond doesn’t crawl under your skin every time I breathe near you.”
I jerk my head away. His fingers curl into my jaw, tight enough I hear the click in it.
“But it does, doesn’t it?” he says softly. “Still there. Still inside you. Like me.”
I shut my eyes, but it doesn’t help. His scent is in my mouth now, in my nose, under my skin. I can feel it in my chest, thick and hot and rising like bile.
“Did he touch you?” Riot murmurs, voice like he already knows. “Did he spread you open and tell you it was love?”
My stomach knots. I say nothing.
“That sweet little Alpha boy,” he says, dragging his nose down my neck, slow and savoring. “He think he marked you? Think he claimed you?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer. His mouth grazes my throat, lips parting, breath humid and vile as he speaks right against my skin.
“He didn’t fuck you right, did he?”
I twist violently, but his weight bears down harder, chain grinding against bone, wrists burning raw. The pain snaps white behind my eyes but it doesn’t stop him.
༄་རྣོ་ཤོE་ནོར་ ོ་མ
Tcan smell it,” Riot growls, his voice cracking into something lower, less human. “He didn’t break you open. He hasn’t marked you yet.”
“You’re delusional.”
Riot grins.
I scream when his mouth drops to my neck before he’s biting. The pain is instant. Searing. I jerk, trying to save myself but it’s too late–he’s already there, sinking deep into my skin like he wants to hollow me out from the inside.
“Fuck,” he groans into my neck. “You still taste like mine.”
My body goes limp for a second, heart choking in my throat. “Stop! Stop!”
But he doesn’t. He moans–slow and filthy, tongue dragging over the bite like he’s savoring it–and I thrash again, nails raking down his arms, but he just grips harder, grinding me back against the wall like it’ll make the taste last longer.
And then-
He freezes.
Just for a second.
His body goes stiff, like someone pulled a wire tight through his spine,
Then he rips his mouth off me.
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Chapter 122
Staggers back two full steps, one hand flying to his lips. The other claws at his stomach, chest heaving like he’s going to vomit. His breath stutters, ragged and wet. His eyes–those bright, feral, golden eyes–go wide. And scared.
“What the fuck-” Riot chokes, spitting blood. My blood. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
He stumbles, chest buckling. It’s like my blood is crawling up his throat from the inside.
My knees give out and I slide down the wall, one hand pressed over the bite, my whole body shaking.
Across from me, Riot drops to his knees. One hand on the floor. The other fisted in his hair, tugging hard.
“What did they do to you?” His voice is guttural. Not Riot anymore. All wolf. All rage. “Who did this?!”
His head snaps up and his gaze finds me. His pupils are slits now. Gold bleeding into white. He looks rabid. Feral. And still… hungry.
Why is he not being affected by my blood? Why is he..not turning into a monster like Theo?
I scramble back on my palms, shoulder screaming as I drag myself further into the corner. “Don’t–don’t come near me-”
“Shut up,” he snarls. You think I’m scared of this?”
He wipes his mouth again, smears red down his jaw and neck like he doesn’t care it’s still sizzling against his skin. “You’re still mine. Even if you’re rotting from the inside.”
I gag. Turn my head and spit bile onto the floor.
He moves. Fast.
One second he’s slouched, broken–the next he’s in front of me, crouched low, face too close. His hand slams into the wall beside my head. His other one fists in my hair, yanking it back so I have to look at him.
“Let’s go home, baby.”
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