Chapter 150
Chapter 150
GRAYSON
Fucking stupid brat.
Her, and those shiny little ambitions she polished like knives.
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It was her fault we’re rotting here, her hybrids twitching in their cages, her secrets breeding in the dark, that mouth that wouldn’t stay shut even when I split it.
–
And yeah yeah – I regret it, every filthy second, but regret’s just another mess on the floor now, too late for clean lines, too late to scrub the stain out.
I throw some pebbles into the damn lake and sigh. Moon goddess, I’m out of options on how to get ourselves in this mess.
Jessica really did it this time. And when they catch her scent, there won’t be anywhere left to run.
Riot’s already behind me. I heard him earlier, shadowing when I left Jessica.
“She’s mine,” I tell him, low enough that only he catches it.
Riot laughs, rough in his chest, like a cough turned cruel. “I didn’t ask, okay?”
I want to break his jaw but there’s only us left.
Two wolves circling the same kill, claws sharp, teeth bare, and nothing left but blood and claim.
And I don’t intend to lose.
“I didn’t invite you to sit beside me.”
“We’re brothers.”
“You forget who commands this pack.”
He chuckles, dark and slow. “There is no pack now, Grayson.”
Damn right.
All my life I’ve bled for that pack. Trained for it. Woke up every single fucking day thinking about how to keep it breathing, how to keep the border safe, how to keep the weak from getting ripped apart by wolves like
him.
Funny thing, right?
How fast it rots. How you can give decades to a cause and lose it in a single season because one wolf fucks the wrong thing, makes the wrong alliance, opens her mouth one too many times.
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Chapter 150
And now here we are.
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I turn then, slowly, so he gets every second of my stare. His eyes are mine but meaner, feral where I’m steel, cut for the kill instead of the keep. I know what he’s thinking because I’ve thought about it too.
We have our same father. Difference is, I learned control.
He learned how to enjoy the mess.
Riot’s smirk twitches, throwing his own pebbles like he’s trying to mimic my rhythm. “You’re staring too much.”
“Just counting,” I say.
“Counting what?”
“How many bones I can break before you start begging.”
He grins like he likes the sound of it. And maybe he does. That’s the problem with Riot – pain’s just another language to him. He’ll take it, twist it, throw it back at you, and somehow make you feel like you gave him a gift.
“Do you really like Jessica?”
Part of me wants to shove him into the water and watch him choke, but part of me wants to answer. Wants to confess that she’s mine in ways he’ll never understand.
“Do you really have to ask?”
Desire, obsession, madness—she’s mine. Every filthy, perfect inch of her.
It hurts me knowing she’s damn wavering for this asshole but hell, Jessica can waver all she wants but I’ll….. forgive her. I don’t think she knows how much I love her.
The lake laps at the shore, indifferent, like the world doesn’t give a fuck about anything we are. But I care.
She’s mine, and nothing in this world, not him, not the rot creeping at the edges, not even her own doubts, will take her from me.
“You know, I don’t understand Grayson,” Riot said, sighing. “Why can’t you just mark her?”
I laugh, low, feral, and it’s more a growl than anything else. “You haven’t marked anyone, haven’t you?”
Riot lives with rogues. Our father is ashamed of him. That’s why he didn’t live with us. A mess our father washed his hands of and tossed aside like rotting meat.
Maybe, that’s the reason why he’s so fucked up. But then, I didn’t really turn out to be okay either.
I know.
I fucking know.
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Chapter 150
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But instead of answering him, I let my eyes drift to the moon, fat and indifferent, hanging over the black water. It mocks me with its cold light, and I can almost hear the snap of bones under my own teeth. Months ago, all I could think about was beheading Riot. Ripping him apart, limb by limb, watching him choke on his own blood while the stars blinked like they were in on the joke.
Now… now I’m here, and it’s worse.
I can’t move. I can’t act. All I can do is wait, for her, for Jessica to make up her mind.
She might be the reason the pack is gone, but I am the reason her life is shredded, twisted into jagged little pieces that only I can recognize–and maybe, perversely, only I can fix.
I don’t just want her. I want to mark her. Claim her. Tear away everything that isn’t mine until she only exists as mine. The thought is filthy. Animalistic. Perfect.
“Can you tell me…what happened to her in that place?”
Riot grins, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You may not want to know.”
“I… I need to know,” I admit. “I wanted to know.”
“You’re not ready for that, Grayson,” he says softly, almost… almost pitying.
I jerk back, anger sparking, but it’s thin, a fragile shield over the raw ache that twists my chest. “I don’t care if I’m ready. She… she’s mine, damn it. And every second I don’t know what she suffered, I—” My voice catches, ragged. “I lose a piece of her. And I can’t. I can’t lose even one piece.”
I look back at the moon, and it doesn’t mock me now. It watches, silent witness to how badly I need her. How badly I need to fix everything that’s been broken. And I know–whatever happened to her in that place–I’ll carry it, filthy, animalistic, obsessive, until the world bends to what I can’t lose.
Riot swallows hard, and for the first time, the bravado drops from his face. The edges of his grin crumble. “They… they broke her. Not just body, Grayson. Mind, too. Theo… he forced her to obey. To do things… things she shouldn’t have had to. Made her crawl, made her beg, made her feel smaller than anything she is.”
I feel my chest tighten, claws scraping against my ribs.
Riot meets my eyes, and there’s something there I’ve never seen: shame. He looks like a boy who’s seen too much and lived through it, wishing he could undo the damage but knowing he can’t. “I didn’t see everything.” he admits quietly. “But I saw enough. She survived Grayson. She fought. God, she fought, but…” He swallows again, jaw tight. “Theo made her believe she had no choice. That it was all her fault. That no one would come for her.”
I clench my fists, nails ripping the skin on my palms, teeth grinding. “I’ll come for her,” I growl, voice low and feral. “I’ll come for her. I’ll always come for her.”
Riot looks at me, almost afraid, and finally nods. “She knows that, Grayson… I think that’s why she fought.”
Goddess, I’m so fucking pathetic.
I shove my hands into my face, trying to choke back the ache, the guilt, the rage, but it bubbles anyway.
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Chapter 150
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Some tears slip past my fingers, carving tracks down my cheeks, and I hate them instantly. Hate the weakness. Hate that they exist for anyone but her.
Riot doesn’t say anything. He just watches, and I know he sees it–the raw, feral, broken mess I am when it comes to her.
Riot shifts closer, hesitantly, as if he wants to offer something–comfort, or anything but he doesn’t. He just lets me sit there, drowning in my own shame.
“I’ll… I’ll fix it,” I rasp, more to myself than him, and the words feel hollow, fragile against the feral obsession coiling in my gut. “I’ll fix her. I’ll fix everything I broke. I’ll make it right.”
But the truth is, I don’t know if I can. And that, more than anything, makes me feel small, pathetic… human in a way I hate.
