Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 50

Chapter 49: Grace: Did You Kill Andrew?

What the hell does smelling like coconuts have to do with anything? I blink at Caine, genuinely confused by the bizarre shift in conversation.

Caine’s jaw tightens as his nostrils flare again. He breathes in deeply, looking almost offended by my smell.

"It’s lotion, okay?" Something about the intensity of his stare makes me want to fill the silence, but I have nothing particularly nice to say. Instead, I mumble, "Not that it’s any of your business what I put on my body."

His eyes darken at my words, and I immediately regret my phrasing. It’s stupid to antagonize someone when you don’t want them to kill you, but it’s hard not to get a little uppity when they act so damn strange.

I shift in my seat, tapping my fingers against the table as I gather my courage. "Look, I don’t think you have any legal right to hold me as a prisoner."

It’s something I’ve been thinking about for some time, going around in circles in my head. Trying to sound confident, even as my heart threatens to burst through my ribcage, I add, "I was a minor when I was taken to the Blue Mountain Pack, and I haven’t done anything illegal."

"I need to investigate," Caine says simply. No other explanation. No details. Just those four words, like it’s all he needs to say and I should just go along with it.

"Investigate what?" My voice rises despite my effort to stay calm. "We know I’m human. Alpha Brax brought me here. I was a minor, so it isn’t like I had much choice. What else is there to look into?"

Caine stiffens, his shoulders squaring. "There are things I need to look into," he mumbles, still without a real explanation. "Your involvement..."

When he trails off, I assume he’s going to finish his thought. But he doesn’t. It’s like he’s trying to make up excuses or something.

"My involvement in what? Dating Rafe? It’s over now."

He shifts his weight, looking strangely uncertain. It’s almost hard to reconcile the Caine in front of me with the Lycan King I met in the forest. For one, he’s still kneeling in front of me, like he’s trying to serve me instead of keep me prisoner. For two, he’s just so... soft. Almost approachable, even.

"I still need to determine—"

"Dude." Lyre’s voice interrupts his words as she enunciates clearly, "Back. Off."

Caine’s head whips toward her, all pretense of gentleness evaporating. A low growl rumbles from his chest, like a reminder of how threatening he can be.

squeezes past him in the tight space, her rainbow hair brushing against his shoulder as she slides into the booth beside me. Her hip nudges mine, pushing me further into the corner as she becomes a physical barrier between me and

stands, looming over us with

narrowed. "So let me get this straight. You’re detaining a human girl who hasn’t committed

"This

it does." Lyre’s voice drops to a dangerous purr. "Since you’re in my home, threatening my

patters. She’s defending me. It’s the

not threatening

you call it then?" She

found in the forest

will," I pipe up, emboldened by

connected to

She’s heard me mention him, though I haven’t exactly explained anything. "My ex-boyfriend. He ditched me as soon as he

sounds as if Grace was raised by wolves, but isn’t one herself. She’s human. She has no

Caine’s side, his ears pressed flat against his head. The sound is startlingly human in its distress,

at Fenris’s muzzle. "I’m not here to detain her," he says, as if he hadn’t

formal cadence. "Grace is a legal adult in the eyes of human society. She has the right to go where

mine, then back to Lyre. "She has no

me," Lyre says

and..." His lip curls in

the overbearing ego of

them crackles with tension. Fenris, on the other hand, seems irritated with Caine, nipping at his thigh when he keeps getting batted away from his hip. Finally, he flops onto his belly

enough to plop his head into my lap with a soft chuff. I rub his ears, forgetting for a

intense. "I’m here to help her get settled into human society comfortably. There’s no reason for her to suffer for

like a convenient way of saying you don’t actually have

my responsibility

A missing piece of this bizarre puzzle suddenly registers, and I jolt upright in

Did you kill

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