Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 62

Chapter 61: Grace: Transference (I)

My body feels like it’s been used as a car crash dummy. Voices filter through the cotton stuffed between my ears, muffled and distant at first, then gradually sharpening into familiar tones. Angry tones.

"Absolutely not. Stay ten feet away at all times." Lyre.

An unmistakably familiar growl. "You aren’t in charge here."

"No, but they are, and you’re sucking her dry every time you make contact. Keep your damn mutt off her, too."

A snarl. Definitely Fenris.

"Stop looking at me like that. You’re a mutt without manners."

Consciousness hovers just out of reach, and honestly, slipping back into oblivion seems like the smart option. Nothing good waits in a room where Lyre and the Lycan King are squaring off. Death wish, party of one.

"Her energy is finally stabilizing, and you two want to go right in and take what she’s gathered—"

"If touching hurts, why are you letting them touch her?"

"They’re not feeding off her like she’s an all-you-can-eat buffet."

Oh. This sounds... not great.

A cool touch slides along my inner arm, followed by a sharp sting. Something tugs at my skin, and the sensation drags me closer to full awareness. Not Lyre’s touch—someone else’s. Cold and strange-feeling.

"BP is 90/60. Heart rate stable at 64." An unfamiliar voice, clipped and professional. "Okay, the IV’s in."

"All right. Let’s push some fluids." Another stranger.

Kind of sounds like I’m in a hospital.

"Let’s get ready to move her."

"You’re not taking her," Caine snaps.

Okay, maybe not a hospital. Oh. They probably called an ambulance. Now it makes sense.

"They can if they need to," Lyre argues.

Fenris whines.

My eyes flutter.

"She moved," Caine says immediately, tension vibrating through his voice. "Grace?"

Play dead, I tell myself. Just five more minutes of unconsciousness before facing whatever catastrophe awaits.

my arm again, and everything

a groan. The

I croak,

Caine again, closer now. I might not be able to see, but I can sense

looming kind of

is starting to sound weird after using

turn off the lights," Lyre offers, sounding further away than

made. It’s strange, like... Like someone’s turned on a faucet, and something inside of me is gushing out,

Something beeps. A lot.

her, you

just trying

need to step

A growl.

wish comes true, and unconsciousness takes me

* * *

creeps back into my

sigh when lights don’t stab into my eyeballs this time. There’s a faint amber glow

sure, I’m at

attention. I turn my head, the left side of my neck

next to me, her rainbow hair mussed and wild. Her cat-slit eyes look exhausted, with dark circles underneath. She tilts her head, studying

like I’ve been gargling gravel.

sunshine." Lyre’s voice carries its

and try again, grimacing through the pain. "Like someone ran

smile quirks at the corner of Lyre’s mouth. "Well, at least you’re clean, then." She reaches for something out of my sight, then

push myself up. My arms tremble with the

surprising strength. Her touch is cool against my

throat like salvation. I hadn’t realized how parched I was until the

but Lyre cuts me off with a

hundred feet of the

I blink.

"He

I believe her, but...

around the room. It’s not a standard hospital room—no clinical white walls or plastic chairs. Instead, the space is warm, with natural wood accents and what looks like

"Where am I?"

hospital. You’re in the special ward upstairs." Lyre’s lips quirk.

blink again.

"Yeah, but he isn’t."

that movement.

at her cheek. "You know what? I’m

"You can’t just drop that and

the movement almost too casual. "Let’s

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