Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 46: Caine: Inane Argument

CAINE

The warlock is an annoying companion on a long drive, but his ability to track the girl’s presence is little short of miraculous.

"I’m telling you," Jack-Eye says, gesturing wildly in the cramped backseat at Thom, "a woolly mammoth would absolutely destroy an elephant in combat. Thicker fur, larger tusks—built for the ice age, man."

Thom shakes his head. His glasses slip down his nose, and he pushes them back with trembling fingers. "Elephants have superior intelligence and agility. African bull elephants can weigh up to seven tons and reach nearly thirteen feet. Your mammoth would be too slow."

"Too slow? Are we forgetting they hunted in packs?" Jack-Eye counters.

This conversation has lasted at least the last thirty miles. It started, oddly enough, with a conversation about chickens.

"We’re discussing a one-on-one arena battle," Thom says, voice steady despite his physical weakness. "Not a pack hunt."

Their absurdity grates on my nerves, and I clutch the steering wheel harder. "How much longer?" I ask, interrupting their inane debate without guilt.

"Three point seven miles, still in the same location," Thom answers, not missing a beat.

"Even without the pack there—"

"This entire discussion is idiotic," I say through gritted teeth. "Woolly mammoths are extinct."

Fenris’s voice is a low grumble. They’re just trying to pass the time. Not everyone broods in silence like you.

I don’t brood. I contemplate.

hours of contemplating how to approach the

a tug in my chest, almost a whisper of premonition telling

now?" I

Your Majesty.

"And the interference?"

"Still present."

tap against the steering wheel. "Is she in danger?"

isn’t malevolent, but it’s impossible

my headrest. "What do you think, boss? I

I growl. "Your hypothetical fight between

regret—not for silencing them, but for revealing how tightly wound I am. A king should

are desperate, Fenris chides.

Not with my beta in

to face Thom. "Your

change in subject, judging by the relief in his voice. "No, not scent. It’s essence. Everything that exists occupies not just physical space

"Like mana? In those, what

fall back to his lap, trembling. "But it all boils down

piece I don’t

"Must be nice, tracking something so clearly. We lose

is hollow. "It

temples. His eyes are sunken, rimmed with dark circles. Hours ago, when

his glasses up his

bad for Thom, but I can’t pretend to feel anything for his suffering. The warlock is a tool, nothing more—a means

You should care more,