GRAYSON
Fuck.
She was mine. She chose me. She was supposed to be mine.
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I slam my fist into the desk. The wood splinters under me, but I don’t stop. I grab the edge and tear at it like I can rip this feeling out of my skin, like I can pull the bond back with my bare hands if I just break something hard enough.
But it doesn’t work. It doesn’t go away.
I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know where to put all of this–this heat, this weight, this fucking ache
that won’t burn out of me.
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I went home because I thought there had to be another way. I thought maybe I could fight my father. Maybe I could twist his conditions, force him to call this off, give me something–anything–to fix this.
There had to be a way.
But when I got there–when I walked into his office–he was already moving on. Calm. Cold. Smiling like this was all part of the plan.
He wasn’t waiting for me.
He was arranging my marriage.
With Aria. Like Jessica never happened. Like none of this fucking mattered.
1 freeze in the middle of the room, my hands shaking, and for a second, I don’t even know what to feel first. Rage or grief.
Probably both.
Aria. Not Jessica.Never Jessica.
I shove the lamp off the table. It crashes against the wall, shards spinning across the floor, but the sound’s not enough. I throw the chair next. I break the desk. I tear through the room like I can wreck his plans if I just keep moving, but the bond’s still there, thin and fraying and pulling toward him.
And the sickest thing–the thing I can’t get out of my head–the thought that just keeps coming back no matter how hard I try to crush it–is that I want to kill him.
I’ve never been this twisted. I’ve never been this violent. But when it comes to her–when it’s about Jessica–I would burn the whole fucking world just to have her. All of her.
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Chapter 84
I’ve never wanted anything like this. Not until her. And now I can’t let it go. I can’t pull back. I can’t stand here and let Riot have her. I can’t stand here and feel the bond slipping out of my hands and just let it happen. I can’t. I fucking can’t.
But I can’t go back, either.
Because if I walk back into that room–if I see her in his arms–if I see her let him touch her, let him own her–I
don’t know what I’ll do.
“Grayson..”
I hear the door creak. I don’t have to turn to know it’s Aria. I can smell her before I see her. Clean. Soft. Harmless. She doesn’t belong here.
I swing my head toward her anyway. She freezes like she’s just realized I’m not someone she knows.
Her name crawls up my throat. I don’t say it.
I watch her take in the broken desk, the blood on my knuckles, the walls I dented. Her mouth opens. Closes.
My father sent her. Of course he did. She’s part of the arrangement.
Perfect Aria. Sweet Aria. The one who never makes a scene. The one who’s safe.
Jessica was never safe. Jessica was claws and heat and breathless fights. Jessica made me want to burn.
Aria steps in like she’s still hoping she can pull me out of this. “Grayson, I—”
I step forward. She stops talking. I keep walking until she’s pressed back against the doorframe, my hand braced
next to her head. I can hear her pulse spike.
“You think you can replace her?” I ask, my voice calm, almost bored.
Aria doesn’t answer. She’s trying to keep her breathing steady.
“Tell my father it’s not happening,” I say, my mouth dragging close to her ear, low, flat, certain. “Tell him it was never going to happen.”
Her throat works. She smells like lavender soap. Jessica always smelled like sweat and heat and the woods.
Aria’s voice cracks. “Does it have to be her?”
It always has to be her,
You think I’d want you?
Fucking slut.
But I don’t say that. I just smile, sharp and cruel, because Aria’s still standing here like she thinks she can fix me.
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Chapter 84
Like she wants to try.
“You’re still here.” I step closer. I drag my palm down my face, blood smearing across my chin. “Why?”
She starts to speak, but I don’t let her.
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“You want me that bad?” My voice drops, slow and dark as I circle behind her, crowding her, pressing my chest against her back. She stiffens, but I don’t stop. I drag my hand around her throat, slow, my palm hot and firm over her pulse.
Her breath stutters.
“What are you getting out of this, huh?” I tighten my grip just a little, enough to make her swallow hard. “Do you
want me that much? Or do you just want the name? The title? The Luna crown?”
I squeeze harder.
“Come on,” I murmur against her ear, my nose dragging over the shell of it. “Tell me. Tell me how bad you want it. Tell me what you’ll let me do to you.”
I bet you’d let anyone touch you like this if they promised to call you Luna.
I squeeze tighter.
“You want this, huh?” My voice dips low, dark, sharp. “You want me to ruin you? You want me to bend you over this
desk and make you mine, is that it?”
Her breath hitches. Her hands grab my wrist, weak, trembling, not really trying to pull me off.
Fucking knew it.
You’d let me do anything to you just so you could wear my name. You’d spread your legs for the power, not for me.
“You’re not her,” I snarl, my nose dragging along her jaw, my grip tightening on her throat. “You’ll never be her.”
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I push my hips into her, hard enough to make her feel it.
I bet you’d take it. I bet you’d let me fuck you just to say you did. And you’d still never feel like her. You’d still never
be her.
Her breathing stutters, fast and sharp, her whole body trembling now. She’s frozen. She’s waiting for me to stop. She’s praying I’ll stop.
I shove her into the doorframe, hard, making her stumble, making her choke on her breath.
I release her chin with a sharp flick of my wrist like I can’t stand to touch her anymore.
“Wrong girl,” I spit, stepping back, grabbing the edge of the desk I broke earlier like I need something to hold me
together. “Get out.”
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Chapter 84
She stumbles toward the door, her throat pink where my hand was, her shoulders stiff like she’s trying not to fall apart until she’s gone.
“Tell my father,” I snarl after her, “I’m not his pawn.”
She leaves. She doesn’t look back.
Good. I’d probably break her if she did.
I drag my hand down my face, wiping sweat and blood from my jaw, my breathing sharp, my chest rattling.
Jessica.
It’s always Jessica.
Even now.
Even if she’s gone.
Even if she’s in his arms.
I can still taste her name like blood in my mouth.
I can still feel the pull of her, the heat, the bond slipping toward Riot.
I should have taken her when I had the chance. I should have marked her first. I should have fucked her into my
name before he ever touched her.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
My wolf’s snarling, pacing, grinding his teeth against my ribs.
It was always going to be her. Even if it kills me. Even if it kills him. Even if I burn everything trying to get her back.
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AD
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