Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 36: Grace: Eight Hundred Miles

Lyre shifts in her seat, her slitted eyes observing our exchange with quiet interest. She doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t try to persuade either of us. Her neutrality is refreshing after years of wolves who thought they knew what was best for me. Though I wonder what she’s thinking about behind her impassive face. We must sound crazy.

Andrew rubs his hand across his face, losing some of his aggressive denial. Instead, he’s pleading. "You have no idea how dangerous this is. You’re human, Grace."

I look to Lyre. "How far is Yellowstone from here?"

"About eight hundred miles," she says calmly, like we’re discussing the weather or something.

Eight hundred miles. Eight hundred miles between me and the Blue Mountain Pack. Between me and Rafe and Ellie. Between me and the murderous Lycan King.

"You can’t outrun them," Andrew insists. "Especially not the Lycan King. If he wants you—"

I roll my eyes. "Andrew, you brought me here under the assumption we could outrun him. Now you’re changing your story because I’m not going to do what you want. You can’t have it both ways."

"But—"

"He doesn’t care about me. Trust me." The memory of Caine’s gray eyes flashes through my mind—the intensity of his gaze as he wrapped the bandage around my wrist. But I push it away.

"You’re wrong. He—" Andrew stops himself, huffing something between a sigh and a groan.

"He...?"

Grimacing, Andrew shakes his head. "It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re making a mistake. This woman—" he gestures at Lyre, "—you don’t know her. You don’t know what she is."

Lyre’s lips quirk at that. "He’s not wrong about that."

I glance between them. Andrew’s obvious mistrust, Lyre’s casual acknowledgment.

"Are you something other than human?" I ask her directly.

head, catlike. "Does it

me pause. Does it? After everything I’ve been through with wolves, should I

at the pack—the constant reminders of my humanity, my weakness,

I decide. "It doesn’t matter. As long as you’re not

sharp. "I have no interest in

makes a strangled noise. "You can’t be serious. Grace, listen to

go back, Andrew. Before

not leaving

are." My voice hardens. "Because this is my choice. Not

frustration evident in every line of his body. His jaw works as if chewing on words he wants to

lithe body as

together,

lips as she nods. "Now works. Just need to batten down

through the cramped space with the fluid grace of someone who knows exactly where every inch of their body is. Her hands reach up to unhook a macramé

into what looks like

digging into the same spot he’d grabbed earlier. The

even turn around, just continues methodically securing her plants. The

worried. Probably thinks if he pisses me off, Rafe’s going to yell at him—but

places another plant into the cabinet, her movements unhurried. "The decision’s been

growl rumbling from Andrew’s chest is pure animal—a sound I’ve heard countless times in six years. My heart thunders in my chest, but I refuse to cower.

the dinette, I shake my arm violently until he finally lets it go. "Let me

lunge at me—his body tenses, his face contorting. But the moment passes. He stands, shoulders tight and

come for you," he says, voice low and rough.

up. "Am

have no idea

to keep me safe, yet even Alpha and Beta fell under the might of the Lycans. It didn’t

more labored, like he’s physically restraining himself from shifting. Huffing and snarling