Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 60

Chapter 59: Caine: Took Everything She Had to Give

CAINE

Grace’s limp body fuels a new feeling, something old and unfamiliar. It’s an emotion I haven’t felt since I was a young pup, long before I came into strength and power.

Terror.

What is it? Fenris asks. He’s been silent, politely blocking himself off from our intimacy, even when that rainbow-haired chit was banging on the door.

She’s unconscious.

"Grace."

I shake her shoulder, the skin under my palm cool to the touch. Too cool.

"Grace, wake up."

Her head lolls as I jostle her, hair splaying across the pillow in bleached golden waves. Not a flutter of eyelashes, not a twitch. My stomach drops with dread.

"Grace!" My voice sharpens with command, an alpha’s order.

Nothing. Just her pale face, lips slightly parted, chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.

What’s wrong with her? Why isn’t she waking?

Fenris explodes into panic, his howl ripping through my mind and air both. Strange voices join in, but they’re the least of my worries.

You killed her. You killed our mate!

"Shut up," I growl, placing two fingers against the pulse in her throat. It flutters weakly beneath my touch. "She’s alive."

The sudden crash of the door flying open makes me whip around, a snarl building in my throat as I storm around the corner and into the hall, Grace still limp on the daybed. Just moments ago, she’d been so alive, so vibrant, with the scent of her climax filling the air.

Now...

dick better be put awa—" The rainbow-haired nuisance halts as soon as she sees my

my

again, a wild, uncontrolled

exactly what Jack-Eye had mentioned before, but the mystery of her identity is no longer a

with surprising strength for her

chest aches with the accusation. Did I demand too much of

to Grace, pushing me aside as if I’m not the most dangerous predator she’ll ever encounter. As if I

with all of

at me again, her focus entirely on Grace. She presses two fingers to my mate’s wrist, then

me she can see Grace’s

circumstance, it... still bothers me. I dash past Lyre to yank a corner

demands, her voice as sharp as any Lycan’s. The command within it is no

words

sex, I got that part." Her fingers press gently along Grace’s throat, examining the skin with a scowl. There’s no mark there. Not yet. "When did she pass

hair, hating how dependent I am on this

Lyre mutters, fishing a phone from her pocket. "This far out, it’ll take thirty

My chest squeezes painfully. "That’s

punches in numbers, holds the phone to her ear. "We could drive her,

to the call. "Yes, medical emergency. My friend, a young woman, is unconscious and unresponsive

I pull Grace’s limp body into my

no visible trauma," Lyre

I...? No. It wasn’t

He’s flat on the ground,

Will she be okay?

heart constricts at the question. I’d just accepted this

never be

Fenris murmurs. Our bond would never

And yet it has.

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