Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 19: Grace: Aftermath

The rest of the morning passes without incident.

Or food.

My stomach growls. The clock on the wall ticks past noon, and each second is another twist of my belly. It’s been over a day since I’ve eaten, but at least I have free access to water now.

Small mercies.

But I can’t stay in this room forever, can I?

My fingers tap against my lower lip as I stare at the door. It’s a standard wood-grain door, probably hollow, with a simple knob. Nothing extravagant or strange, and yet my heart stutters at the thought of what lies beyond it.

Life isn’t the same anymore. Alpha’s dead, and I’ve lost all protection. What do Lycans do with humans? Alpha never let me see them before, saying it was dangerous. It’s clear that’s one thing he didn’t lie about. Honestly, the fact I’m even alive when so many are dead...

"This is ridiculous." My voice is soft in the silence, but speaking at all seems to build my courage to push off the bed and ignore how my legs shake as I take one step, then another.

The brass doorknob is cool under my palm. I curl my fingers around it, but my grip trembles.

My stomach growls again, loud enough to echo off the walls. The sound startles me out of my frozen state, and I open the door. Just a tiny inch of space, not really enough to peek through.

I press my ear to the gap but hear only silence. No footsteps. No voices. No breathing.

door opens wider under my palm. I peek through the crack, scanning the hallway beyond. Carpeted floor. Framed landscapes along the wall. Bright light

mine, set in a face carved from granite. The Lycan’s lip curls, revealing the edge of a

scurry back to my bed, breathing

Dangerous. That was dangerous.

I’m definitely a prisoner, not that I had much doubt over the situation. I

wishing I was braver. Stronger. A lot sneakier, too. It would be nice if I could

Stupid, oversized, disloyal dog.

the door and I jump as the red-haired Lycan

the bed in a moment so brief, I’m not sure I actually see it

Harper," he says, sounding indifferent to my fate, "You

or why.

After witnessing what happened to my former

Steel threads

* * *

Everything’s different.

gone. Days of preparation have disappeared overnight and no hint of the bloodbath remains. Vaguely, I recall a pile of stuff from my

their shoulders slumped. No greetings

heard stories about the Lycan King, to some extent, but not