Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 41

Chapter 40: Caine: Tracking (I)

There’s an itch under my skin I can’t get rid of, and it isn’t helping my temper. I’ve already been to Forest Springs, only to find out Grace isn’t anywhere in their territory. Their Alpha, however, is a reasonable man.

He traded his pet warlock for his life. I didn’t spill a single drop of blood, something I’ll have to remember to tell the girl later; it’ll show her I’m capable of holding back.

The thought of her relief when I tell her helps soothe the itch, until Fenris snaps, You still don’t get it, you idiot.

He’s barely said a word to me since we discovered Grace missing two nights ago.

My new warlock’s hands shake as he takes her pillow from me. My fingers twitch. I want to snatch it back—the soft bundle of polyester fluff still smells like her.

"This will do nicely," he says, his voice thin and reedy. The Forest Springs Alpha wasn’t lying when he said his pet magic user was skittish. What’s his name again?

Thom, Fenris snarls.

Right, Thom.

My lip curls. "I don’t need your commentary, Thom. Just find her."

The warlock adjusts his peculiar glasses—thick, smoked lenses with copper wire wrapping around the frames. They look ridiculous, but I know their purpose. They shield his eyes from what witches call "magical ambience"—the glow that surrounds every living thing that normal people can’t see.

You drove her away, Fenris growls, his presence swelling with accusation. Our mate is gone because of you.

"She’s not our mate," I mutter, too low for the warlock to hear.

Lies

.

Since the moment we realized

like he isn’t the

Fenris howls, and I fight to keep my hands at my side and

ridiculous glasses. "Uh, sir—High Alpha—I was

more time, I might have to punch his mouth.

little

meaning to, my

shield his face. The pillow slips

hand shoots out, snatching it from midair before it can touch the ground. Her scent is the only thing keeping me calm. I can’t let it

if you hadn’t scared her

Thom’s scent. The gesture feels ridiculous even as I

I bark at

as we exit my quarters. Grace’s room sits on the opposite side of the lodge—a deliberate choice on my part, though now the

they spare a curious glance at Thom before curling their lips in disgust. One even growls low in his throat, causing

Interesting.

I ask, nodding toward a she-wolf who’s openly

"What, the growling? The looks? Yes, High

"Why?"

this region consider our practices heresy against the Goddess. They teach their packs that we’re unnatural. Makes it hard to make a living." His

"Stupid belief," I grunt.

he

spellbloods goes back centuries, but it’s based on misunderstanding. Magic is just another natural force, like

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