Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Grace: Awakening to Pursuit

As a human, I should be miles away from any large shifter event. Especially the annual Mate Hunt.

A hunt for mates. Doesn't that sound barbaric? Yeah, it's as bad as it sounds.

Several packs in the area gather as their newly minted adult wolves shift. Females are let into the woods first and are given an hour's head start, just before sundown. Then it's time for the males, ostensibly thrown out to hunt down the scent of their fated (or chosen) mates.

It isn't an event for the faint of heart, and it's definitely no place for someone who can't shift. So why the fuck am I here, running my little human heart out, chased by what sounds like an entire pack of wolves?

Great question. I don't know, either.

Alpha warned me to stay home with all the windows and doors locked, saying you can never trust a hormonal wolf during the Hunt. And that's exactly what I did, because I've seen and heard of too many horror stories to want anything to do with a night like tonight.

But somehow, I opened my eyes to a canopy of trees over my head, half blocking out the light of the full moon. To near-freezing winds brushing against my half-naked skin. To the sound of howling, near and far.

And an unfamiliar, unsettling crunch to my left.

As soon as my brain function caught up to the situation, I got up and ran. Maybe not the smartest thing—I had no idea where I was running to—but every inch of my body was screaming danger, and there was zero percent of me interested in learning the origins of that suspicious sound.

And now I'm here.

Surrounded by howls fueled by the thrill of the hunt.

Feet bleeding. Lungs freezing.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The distinct terror of being hunted has my blood cold and sluggish in my veins, even as my heart pounds erratically. Or maybe it's the fall chill. We're only a couple degrees above freezing tonight, and however I got here—my clothes were compromised in the process.

Bra and underwear. At least I have those.

No shoes, of course.

My skin's riddled with goosebumps and branches whip at my skin, leaving marks and scratches I'm sure I'll regret later. Unlike the pack I've been adopted into, I have no innate talent at maneuvering in the wild. My feet pound against leaves, probably leaving an easy trail to follow. But is standing around any better? Uh, probably not.

Then again, running just triggers their prey drive—

Fuck. I have no fucking clue, so I keep running.

My breath is ragged, choppy. Each gulp of air is like icicles stabbing into my lungs.

Alpha—the man who more or less adopted me six years ago—is going to be furious. But later fury doesn't help me in the moment. I learned that lesson a long time ago. Not everyone's willing to have a human around a wolf pack, and a few of them are willing to show me their displeasure in private.

This might be one of those times.

Super not my idea of fun.

My foot catches on something, sending pain straight through my ankle.

The world spins, and my face slams against the ground before I can break my fall. Dirt and blood fill my mouth; I'm surrounded in twigs and dead leaves.

I cough and sputter, trying to clear my airway. My arms shake as I push myself up, spitting out clumps of earth.

"Shit," I hiss, pain shooting through my ankle as I attempt to stand. It buckles, and I collapse again.

me as a slender gray wolf

dawning. "Andrew?" Could it

is rent with cracks and snaps, the wolf shifting stretching until slender, shorter-than-average Andrew stands before me, naked and scowling. "What

Andrew's always been indifferent to me at best, but

I stammer, struggling to my feet. "I woke up out here. Do you know where

Mate Hunt. He said he had no interest in joining, of course—though no wolf

expression darkens at the

he

Why? Andrew,

past, a familiar gray form and a smaller red one. My breath catches as I recognize Raphael's wolf. But something's wrong. He's nuzzling the red wolf, playful and intimate in a way that

instant—faster than Andrew, thanks to his alpha ranking—he shifts back to

he snarls, his voice

flinch, taken aback by

red wolf shifts then, taking little longer than Rafe. She must be a higher-ranking

For some reason...

that knowledge

a single freckle, or pimple, or anything. Just smooth, glass skin. Her green eyes are sharp and gorgeous, impossibly emerald-bright. She

am I kidding? It isn't

she purrs, "who

Mate? Who? Him?

That's

his jaw clenches and he avoids my gaze, that's exactly who she's

My boyfriend. Her mate.

shatters. Never mind that I'm practically naked in a forest full of sex-crazed

hours after he assured me that tonight

new girl. His mate. Fuck, I suddenly hate that

eyes finally meet mine, a flash of something crossing his face. Is it guilt? "No one," he says flatly. "She's no one important. Just a human

hearing. This can't be real.

I whisper, "what's

jaw clenched. "You need to leave,

"But—"

roars, eyes flashing

Run along now. The Mate Hunt is no place for a

uncomfortably. "Grace, I'll

cuts in. "You should return to

vision protests, and

So sweet. The same tone he used to

change in an

know about mating bonds. I've been living among wolf shifters for six years. But

be on my

My other half.

arm in a rough grip, like a fucking stranger. Worse

to pull my arm out of his grasp, to no avail, limping along

stop! You're hurting

the boy I love in his eyes. But it's gone in an

he hisses. "Do you have any idea

here! I woke up in

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