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.

fumbling with my arm again, and everything feels wrong and strange and cold, and hiding

eyes open with a groan. The

I croak, voice

closer now. I might not be able to see,

a very looming kind

using it twice in a row. Even worse with

turn off the lights," Lyre

as soon as the contact is made. It’s strange, like... Like

Something beeps. A lot.

her, you

was just trying

need

A growl.

comes true, and

* * *

creeps back into my head, it’s

my eyes, breathing out a soft sigh when lights don’t stab into my eyeballs this time. There’s

for sure, I’m at a

catches my attention. I turn my head, the left side of my neck protesting, stiff from however long I’ve been laying here on a crinkly plastic

eyes look exhausted, with dark

I’ve

voice carries its usual musical

and try again,

corner of Lyre’s mouth. "Well, at least you’re clean, then." She reaches for something out of my sight, then returns with a paper cup.

up. My

surprising strength. Her touch is cool against my skin, which feels fever-hot and oversensitive. "Small sips. Your system’s been

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

Lyre cuts me off with a

feet of the building, so he’s across the street,

I blink.

shrugs. "He deserved

I believe her, but...

walls or plastic chairs. Instead, the space is warm, with natural wood accents and what looks like hand-woven

"Where am I?"

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

blink again. "I’m

"Yeah, but he isn’t."

little dizzy even from that movement. "What does Caine have to

her cheek. "You know what? I’m going to let him answer

answer. "You can’t just drop that and walk away. What does Caine

almost too casual. "Let’s just say your boyfriend threw

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