Chapter 163
Chapter 163
JESSICA
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“Where the hell are you dragging me, Jack? My wolf’s already pacing, and if you don’t quit yanking me around like I’m some lost pup, I swear I’ll bite you.”
This was beyond stupid–being hauled through the trees by an Alpha whose ego filled the forest louder than his footsteps. My wolf hated it. I hated it more.
I hadn’t had a say the second his hand closed around my wrist, iron–strong, dragging me out of Grayson’s den like I was nothing but prey. The sting of it still burned, and my pride burned worse.
All I wanted was one damn day–silence, coffee, no Alphas clawing at my nerves. Instead? I was stomping through mud and pine needles, half–lost in the thick woods with a wolf who thought dragging me was a sport.
I jerked against his grip. “Seriously, Jack. If you don’t tell me where we’re going, I’m-”
He stopped dead, and I almost slammed into him. He turned his head just enough for me to catch the gleam of his teeth, his smirk sharp as a blade.
“Patience, little wolf.” His voice was low, almost a growl. “You’ll see soon enough.”
Patience. As if that word had ever been made for me.
“You know,” I muttered, yanking a branch out of my face as he shoved us deeper into the thicket, “if this ends with me in some creepy pit where you guys dump bones, I’m going to haunt the hell out of you.”
“If I wanted you dead, pup, you wouldn’t have made it past Grayson’s bed this morning.”
That earned him a glare sharp enough to cut flesh. My wolf pressed against my skin, hot and ready, whispering that one lunge could put my teeth in his throat. But his dominance wrapped around the clearing like smoke, suffocating, daring
me to try.
“Then stop playing games,” I snapped. “Where the fuck are we?”
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Cocky bastard.
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He kept moving, a shadow shouldering through brush that tried to catch him and failed. The forest bent for him–branches swayed, fern fronds parted, even the fog thinned like it didn’t dare touch his skin. My boots sucked at the mud; pine needles bit the soles; sap streaked my palms when I shoved aside a low bough. Everything smelled like wet earth and wolf–alpha–warmth, musk, the metallic edge of old blood sunk into roots.
We dropped down a slope slick with leaf rot. Jack didn’t slip; I slid half the way, catching myself with a curse. He reached back without looking, caught my wrist mid–fall, and steadied me with a grip that said he was used to catching things before they broke.
“Hands off,” I snapped, yanking free.
“Try not to die before the field trip starts,” he said, not bothering to hide the laugh under his breath.
We crossed under a stand of ward–trees where talons had carved sigils into the bark. Bones—wolf femurs, bird spines–hung on black cord, clacking in a low wind. Ash lines smudged the roots in a circle, and dried resin clung to the grooves like old scabs. The air fizzed faintly across my skin. Wards. Territory. Pack law painted in blood and powder.
Jack paused, head lifting, nostrils flaring. The gold in his eyes flashed and cut out again.
“What?” I said, scanning the trees. My wolf pressed against my ribs, restless, ready.
“Wind’s wrong,” he said. “Yours is bleeding through the pines.” He turned back to me, closer than I wanted, close enough that I felt the heat of him through my shirt. “Hold still.”
“Try me.”
He ignored the warning, thumb hooking my jaw, tilting my face. He worked one- handed into his pocket, pulled out a small skin–wrapped bundle, and cracked it open with his teeth. A smoke–sour scent unfurled–resin and crushed mint and the bite of cold iron. He smeared a thumbprint across my throat, then both wrists,
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Chapter 163
then behind my ears with swift, sure strokes.
I grabbed his wrist. “What the hell are you painting on me?”
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“Hush mix,” he said. “Smokeleaf, hart’s ash, a little moon–iron dust. Mutes the bright edges of a hybrid. You’re ringing like a bell today.”
“I don’t ring.”
“You blare,” he said, voice dropping. “Like a storm–horn.”
My pulse jumped where his thumb pressed the hollow of my throat. He felt it. Of course he did. His mouth curved.
“Done,” he said, stepping back–but only far enough to make me want to breathe again. “Try not to wash it off with attitude.”
“The only thing I’m washing off is you.”
“Later,” he promised, like it was scheduled.
We moved again. The forest thickened, trading straight pines for old oaks twisted into fists. Scratch marks scored the trunks, high and deep–the kind left when wolves reared up to remind the world how tall they were. Feathers and river stones lay in cairns along a game path. Not a tourist trail. A patrol run. My shoulders tucked, ears up in my head whether I wanted them to be or not.
“Where exactly are you taking me?” I asked–for the hundredth time, fine. I like
answers.
“You’ll see.”
“Give me a direction. North? Trouble? Another alpha dick–measuring ring—”
“Down,” he said.
We broke through a veil of hanging moss and nearly walked into a cliff face- black stone veined with silver. Jack rapped his knuckles twice against a seam I never would have noticed. The rock answered with a hollow thud.
“Welcome to the hollow,” he said.
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A slot in the stone slid open, exhaling air cold enough to raise bumps along my arms. My wolf surged so hard it hurt. Ours.
“Stop,” Jack said softly.
“I’m not moving.”
“Inside,” he corrected, and angled his body between me and the opening. “You don’t rush to a place like this.”
“Oh, now you want me to be careful.”
“Now,” he said, eyes gone full amber, “I want you listening.”
A low snarl rolled from the nearest pen, and my wolf answered before I could stop her, a warning hiss in the back of my throat. The creature slid into view—bigger than any ordinary wolf, shoulders corded, eyes storm–gray and bright.
Hybrid.
“L–Logan?”
Jack’s hand clamped the back of my neck, shoving me down so hard my teeth cracked together. Heat and dominance poured off him, pinning me like prey. I thrashed, snarling. I didn’t care if he broke me–I wanted Logan.
How long has he been here?
“Jessica!Open your damn eyes!” Jack’s growl vibrated through my bones. “That thing in the cage? Are you even sure you know him, Jess?”
“That’s him. That’s Logan–please-”
The hybrid smashed forward again, saliva flying, eyes feral lightning. My wolf clawed me raw, begging to break free, to touch, to tear.
Jack’s growl rolled over me, darker, deeper. “That?” He forced my head toward the cage until my nose nearly touched the bars. “That’s not your Logan. That’s a beast who’d tear you open and choke on your blood.”
“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”
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I need to get him out of here. He was conscious when I helped him get out of the dungeon!
“I have to get him out,” I sobbed, fighting Jack’s hold, body jerking against him like a trapped animal. “He’s mine–he’s still mine-”
Jack snarled, spun me, and slammed my back into the bars so hard the impact rattled the cage. His body caged mine, heat and dominance everywhere. “Look again.” His amber eyes burned into me, searing, merciless. “Does he even know your name?”
I thrashed, throat raw, tears and rage mixing until I couldn’t breathe. Logan roared, a sound more beast than man, snapping for me through the bars.
Jack’s lips curled, a cruel almost–smile. “Call for him again, sweetheart. Let’s see if he comes for you–or for the taste of your blood.”
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Chapter 164
