Chapter 2
GRAY POV
Huh. Does she think I’m going to kiss her?
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Jessica Wilkinson actually closes her eyes, standing there like some naive little idiot, head tilted up, lips barely parted, her breath coming in these shaky, uneven little exhales like she’s waiting for something.
Like she’s expecting something.
Me.
My lips.
On her.
Seriously?
How can someone be this stupid?
A muscle ticks in my jaw. I shouldn’t be surprised because Jessica is always like this. Reckless. Unfiltered. Always saying and doing things without thinking. Running her mouth, pushing my buttons, making my job a hundred times harder than it needs to be.
She never follows orders. She never does what’s expected. She never shuts up and falls in line like a proper pack wolf should. And yet somehow, against all reason, against all logic, against every single fucking thing that makes sense in this world- I can’t handle or discipline her enough to behave.
That’s what pisses me off the most.
No matter how many times I put her in her place–she never bends. She refuses to learn. She refuses to become the kind of wolf this pack expects which is very wrong because I have expectations for her I mean for everyone in this pack.
The Blackmoor Pack is not the kind of place that allows for mistakes. We are the strongest pack in the North, built from the blood of war and generations of ruthless, calculated dominance.
We do not tolerate weakness. We do not tolerate failure. We do not tolerate wolves like Jessica Wilkinson–wolves who have no rank, no purpose, no discipline, and no fucking idea how easily they could be crushed.
In other packs, someone like her would be ignored. Left behind or worse–disposed of. But here, in my pack, in the pack my father has ruled with an iron grip and an unchallenged reign for over two decades—she is a problem. A problem that, one day, the pack will expect me to eliminate.
Fuck.
shift closer. Just enough for my breath to graze her ear. Just enough to make her squirm, make her overthink every single thing that just happened here, make her hate me for what I’m about to do and yet–my own pulse betrays me. Fuck, No.
What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
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12:38 Wed, 30 Jul G ti.
Chapter 2
Her eyes snap open so fast it almost looks painful. I lean back, just enough to take in her expression, the full force of her embarrassment crashing into her like a physical blow.
A pretty little blush is spreading over her face, crawling up her throat, staining her cheeks in a way that should mean she understands, that she’s finally realizing what a fucking idiot she looks like.
“Uh… uuh.”
Tss.
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click my tongue, shaking my head as I let my gaze drop to her parted lips, to her flushed skin, to the way she can’t even form a coherent word right now.
Like I said, really fucking stupid.
She actually thought it.
She actually stood here, in front of me, and convinced herself for even one second that I would ever-
“Gather here, everyone!”
I raise my voice, turning away from her like she’s not even worth my time. The warriors snap to attention immediately. I don’t even have to check if they’re obeying–they always do.
That’s how it is in Blackmoor. Order is absolute. Hierarchy is unquestioned. Loyalty is unbreakable.
The pack does not tolerate disobedience. We do not tolerate weakness. And we sure as hell do not tolerate wolves who can’t figure out their place.
The warriors snap to attention, jogging in from different parts of the training yard, forming a disciplined semi–circle in front of me.
“We’re done for the day.”
A few warriors glance at each other in surprise. I ignore them. I’ve lost any fucking patience I had left.
“Get out of my sight,” I add, sharper this time. “Now.”
They move immediately, peeling away, heading back toward the barracks. All except for one. All except for the problem still standing behind me.
I exhale, slow and sharp. “Why,” I say, deadpan, exhausted, questioning all of my life choices. “Are you not getting out of my sight?”
And that’s when I see it.
Or rather–him.
Logan.
Dragging her.
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12:38 Wed, 30 Jul Gi
Chapter 2
No, not dragging.
Tugging.
I blink.
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There’s an actual fucking dog latched onto the hem of her pants, yanking her backward like it’s trying to drag a particularly stubborn chew toy out of the yard.
Jessica stumbles, flails-
“I’m trying! I’m trying! Let go, you stupid mutt!”
The dog–a massive, shaggy–furred beast belonging to one of the trainers–**does not let go.
It growls, pulls harder, almost yanking her clean off her feet.
Logan is fucking dying.
Bent over, laughing his ass off, barely staying upright.
Jessica is kicking, flailing, cursing, trying to wrestle the dog off her while looking like the absolute dumbest excuse for a wolf I’ve ever seen in my life.
The warriors?
Yeah, they’re definitely watching now.
I blink again, slowly and drag a hand down my face to contemplate my choices. One day, she will really be the dead of me.
I lift a hand. Two fingers. The dogs here are being trained too then I say, “Pss. Stay.”
Her lips part. Just slightly.
I don’t know why I notice that. I should not have noticed that.
And she-
She fucking stays.
For one glorious, mind–breaking second-
Jessica Wilkinson, the single most disobedient wolf in this entire fucking pack, the girl who has spent her whole life fighting authority, ignoring orders, running her mouth like she’s allergic to shutting up-
Obeys.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. I don’t even process it at first. Because I wasn’t talking to her. I was talking to the fucking dog.
It takes her a solid five seconds to realize what she just did.
And then-
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12:38 Wed, 30 Jul G I.
Chapter 2
She malfunctions.
“I–I didn’t mean-”
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Then she fucking runs. The awkward shuffle of boots against dirt, a sharp inhale, the frantic, mortified energy of someone trying to get the fuck out of here as fast as possible.
Logan is still laughing.
“Oh gods–she’s–she’s actually running-”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, sighing through my teeth. Really stupid but hell she’s kinda…cute. “She’s your friend. You deal with her,” I mutter
then walk away.
Aj4
