Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 30: Caine: Behaving Strangely

CAINE

There’s something strange about her tonight. She’s calmer than this morning, a little more assured, despite the familiar scent in her room. Storming down the hall, I snap at Fenris, Are you sure it’s him?

When have I ever mistaken a scent? It’s the wolf who followed her when we first met. His irritation only feeds mine, like a cloud of dark energy following behind.

No new injuries marred her skin, no fresh bruises. At least there’s that. But that doesn’t explain the scent of another wolf in her room. A Blue Mountain wolf. One who shouldn’t dare approach...

"Damn it. She’s driving me crazy."

It will only get worse if you keep denying our connection to her.

The tattoos on my neck burn, and I lift my upper lip in a snarl. "Everything will be fine once I settle things." The others were right; she’s a victim, not a prisoner. And yet I can’t bring myself to send her back to human society.

She’s been under Brax’s thumb for six years. There are things she needs in order to survive as a human. A driver’s license. A place to live. Money. Food. A job.

The more I think of, the worse it feels to even consider sending her back to the humans. At least if I brought her with us, she would have shelter, food, and never have to work again...

Shit. Fenris is messing with my thoughts again. Now I’m even considering bringing her to our pack, as if a human could ever survive surrounded by Lycans.

again. Peace without this obsessive need to surround myself in the aroma of blueberry muffins fresh out of the oven. Without imagining

betrays me, conjuring an image of her bare beneath me, her skin flushed and warm beneath my touch. I see every curve, every soft plane of

Fuck.

head sharply, forcing the image

is disrupting everything. I’ve already killed for her,

I’m glad you’re finally

you,"

our connection with

bond doesn’t cause madness. Some even reject their mates." Or so I’ve heard. I’ve never had much

wolf. Or

escapes my throat. The cost of the throne weighs heavy, its evidence marked on my skin in the form of tattoos. The separation between wolf and man comes at a steep price. It leaves me

they feel protectiveness,

power, but they

the way I came. The Blue Mountain shifter standing

going to do? Hunt the man down? Demand to know why he was visiting? The girl isn’t hurt; if I go around tyrannizing everyone who looks at her twice, the rumors will only grow. As if Jack-Eye’s

fists as I spin on my heel and stalk away again, cursing myself for being weak enough to go back in the first place. She won’t eat with me standing there, and she needs the sustenance. I have to give her space, even if I want to throw open the door and stand there, breathing

Forever? Fenris suggests.

I killed Brax to uphold our laws; what would it say of me if I followed in his footsteps? I swore to uphold the law when I