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

Does it? After everything I’ve been through with wolves, should I fear other supernatural beings just

pack—the

I decide. "It doesn’t matter. As long

"I have no

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

back, Andrew. Before they

not leaving

voice hardens. "Because this is my

in every line of his body. His jaw works as if chewing on words

stretching her lithe body as she

lips together, embarrassed. "I mean, if that works for you. I’m not

she nods. "Now works. Just

every inch of their body is. Her hands reach up to unhook a

what looks like a modified kitchen cupboard. "Otherwise it all becomes projectiles

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

your hand off her or you’re going to lose it." Lyre doesn’t even turn around, just continues methodically securing her plants. The calm in her voice makes the

but doesn’t release. His breath comes faster beside me, and I can feel his indecision. It isn’t fear, but he seems worried. Probably thinks if he pisses me off, Rafe’s going to yell at him—but also if he lets me leave, Rafe’s going to yell at

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

from Andrew’s chest is pure animal—a sound I’ve heard countless times in six years. My heart thunders in

I shake my arm violently until he finally lets it

body tenses, his face contorting. But the moment passes. He stands, shoulders tight

voice low and

up.

"You have no idea what

even Alpha and Beta fell under the might of the Lycans. It didn’t take very long, either. "At

labored, like he’s physically restraining himself from shifting. Huffing and snarling under his breath,