Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 29: Grace: Did I Offend Him?

My stomach is gnawing itself to death.

I press a hand against it, willing it to calm down as I resume pacing the perimeter of my room. Seven steps along the wall. Turn. Five steps across. Turn. Seven steps back. Turn. Five steps to the door.

I crack it open for the fifth time in twenty minutes.

The Blue Mountain shifter stands at attention, back rigid as a plank. He doesn’t even twitch as I peer around the edge of the door. His eyes remain fixed forward, as if I’m nothing but a breeze passing through the hallway.

I close the door with a sigh and press my forehead against the cool wood. My stomach clenches painfully. The mountain of breakfast from earlier features in my regrets; I should have stuffed my face while I had the chance. Or at least taken some with me.

Another cramp twists my insides. Decision made.

I yank open the door, determination straightening my spine.

"Hey! I need—"

My words die as I nearly collide with a broad chest. Not the Blue Mountain guard. The Lycan King himself stands before me, his hand raised mid-knock, a tray balanced perfectly in his other palm. The scent of lasagna and garlic bread makes my mouth water in the most unbecoming way.

His eyebrow arches, storm-gray eyes assessing as they rove over me. I take an instinctive step back, which is apparently Lycan for come on in because that’s precisely what he does.

Rude.

Then again, he made it oh-so-clear I’m his prisoner, so can I really complain?

He kicks the door closed with his heel without looking, his gaze never leaving my face. "Are you comfortable?" he asks, setting the tray on my bed.

I eye him suspiciously. Personally delivering food and asking about my comfort? His behavior is on a rollercoaster again.

"I’m fantastic, thank you."

His jaw tightens. "You’re not."

"I just said I am, though?"

He grunts. "Your boyfriend will be instated as Alpha tonight."

I already know that, thanks to Andrew. "I’m sure he’s happy about it."

the side of my bed, effectively

together, digging my nails into my skin to keep my composure. "Did you need

linked hands. "How

long as I’m not using it much, the pain is bearable. It’s the hunger killing me now, but it’s being gatekept

reaches out so quickly I don’t have time to flinch. My breath catches as his fingers capture a strand of my hair, letting it slide through them with

my hair, but the action sends shivers

lasagna’s rich aroma taunts me while my captor plays with my hair, and I’m struck again by the strangeness of this

were you first brought to the Blue

I’m dying to devour—but of course it comes with a cost. I guess I won’t be allowed to eat

what I said before,

movement might upset him,

continue their exploration, twining around the strand. "Six," he repeats, as if testing

told him, but he should

you

my sides. "Until he didn’t, the night of

fingers still absently toying with my hair. "Yes, explain

lasagna is right there, its cheese congealing while he plays twenty questions. "Could I maybe eat while you interrogate me? Since you

steps aside with

tongue, and I have to stifle a moan. It’s perfect—rich tomato sauce, seasoned beef, and cheese that stretches in satisfying strings. Heaven wrapped in pasta

Pack is no longer home, but the chef is

close, looming over me as his eyes follow my

I woke up practically naked in the forest during the Mate Hunt. I guess he was trying to force me to shift. He thought I was his biological daughter and

how did he ’find out’?" His voice carries an edge that makes me

after the

light from the window.

"No."

"Not even at sixteen?"

lasagna, I recall, "He did throw me a pretty big sweet sixteen. He would

"I see. How was

me." Poking my lower lip with my fork,

rumbles through the room and Caine spins away from me,

under the weight of his agitation. He’s ruining all

Brax intend to mate

non sequitur throws me for a loop, and I blink. "No, Alpha

whirls toward me, his voice sharp as