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?

from the answers coming

my life, and I never expected to be anything else. Aside from Alpha’s—Brax’s—strange assumption I was his biological

have no powers to my name. There’s no superhuman strength or speed hiding in this body of mine. Even if I had some wounds heal a little faster than what might be considered normal; so

the show, huffing quietly to myself. Dwelling on these mysteries will only lead me down a spiral of questions with

why Alpha took me in only to throw me away? Why Rafe claimed to love

reloads to where the protagonist first meets who I think is her third love interest in

Lyre asks, her eyes never leaving her phone screen. The blue

I shift my position on the daybed, careful to keep my bare chest pressed against the

different. The burning sensation crawling across my back is fading, now less like thousands of hot, stabbing needles and more like an overly warm

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

assessing as she studies my back. "Give it another

it takes me a second to realize she’s... counting? Her fingers twitch slightly with each unspoken number. The gesture seems

she grunts and nods. "Yeah, ten minutes

interesting word choice for skin

cancer or something if I leave this on too long?" I ask, suspicion creeping into my

phone, thumb scrolling with practiced ease. "The ointment isn’t what I’m worried

again, twisting to look at her. "What does that mean?" My heartbeat quickens. "If not the ointment, then