Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 44: Grace: Do You Believe in Fate?

After dinner, Lyre applies the scar cream to my back, apparently unfazed by the raised blemishes on my skin. The emollient is cool at first, but slowly begins to burn.

"Give it about thirty minutes," Lyre says, screwing the lid back onto the ointment jar. "Just lay there. It’s going to hurt for a bit, but the pain will disappear soon."

Grunting, I shove up onto my elbows, looking at her over my shoulder. "Are you sure it’s safe? It’s burning my skin."

"Its effectiveness comes with a price." She tosses the jar next to me. "Trust me. In half an hour, your scars will be a memory. Just don’t touch it."

Fiddling with the remote, I nod. "Got it." Thankfully, with access to this back living room, I have the daybed to lie on and TV to watch, so I won’t be bored. Even if it is awkward to be topless around someone who’s essentially a stranger.

Lyre settles into the couch across from me, scrolling through her phone. She doesn’t need much to entertain herself, spending most of her time on the small device. Evenings with her have been peaceful and silent. Usually, I read one of her books—she has several—while she browses the internet.

Starting the next episode of the TV series I’d started earlier, I try to pay attention to the plot. Magical academy, a girl with secret powers, and the boys who fall in love with her... The writing is subpar, but reminds me of the awkward lines I’ve heard recently from Rafe and Ellie. It’s probably why I’ve become invested in this story; I want to see her come out on top and watch the antagonists get what they deserve.

Revenge isn’t something I have the power to attain, so I’m living vicariously through characters on screen.

But now, I can’t focus on the plot or the over-the-top acting as my mind keeps wandering to Lyre’s question. How did my wounds heal so quickly, while my wrist hasn’t? What strange phenomenon is behind it?

shy away from the answers coming to

to be anything else. Aside from Alpha’s—Brax’s—strange assumption I

body of mine. Even if I had some wounds heal a little

show, huffing quietly to myself. Dwelling on these mysteries will only lead me down a spiral of questions with no answers. And, even if there are answers, I’m not entirely

throw me away? Why Rafe claimed to love me while choosing Ellie? Some questions just lead

show reloads to where the protagonist first meets who I think is her third love interest in this magical academy. I’d completely missed the

her phone screen. The blue light casts an eerie glow

daybed, careful to keep my bare chest pressed

fading, now less like thousands of hot, stabbing needles and more like

on yet?" I ask, already reaching toward the folded t-shirt beside me. The evening air is cool against my exposed skin, and

looks up from her phone, her gaze assessing as she studies my back. "Give it

the ceiling. Her lips move silently, and it takes me a second to realize she’s... counting? Her fingers twitch slightly

and nods. "Yeah, ten minutes is probably still

word

too long?" I ask, suspicion creeping into my voice. The

scrolling with practiced ease. "The ointment isn’t what I’m

at her. "What does that mean?" My heartbeat quickens. "If not the ointment,