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.

and someone’s fumbling with my arm again, and

a groan. The ceiling

bright," I croak,

not be able

a very looming kind of

sound weird after using it twice in a row.

lights," Lyre offers, sounding further away than

sense an inner movement as soon as the contact is made. It’s strange, like... Like someone’s turned on a

Something beeps. A lot.

touching her, you

just trying

need to step

A growl.

true, and unconsciousness

* * *

back into my

lights don’t stab into my eyeballs

for sure, I’m at

my neck protesting, stiff from however long I’ve been laying here on a

and wild. Her cat-slit eyes look exhausted, with dark circles underneath. She tilts

My voice sounds like I’ve been gargling

there, sunshine." Lyre’s voice carries its usual musical lilt. "How are you

swallow, but my throat feels like it’s filled with glass shards. I cough and try again, grimacing through

of Lyre’s mouth. "Well, at least you’re clean, then." She reaches for something out of

try to push myself up.

supporting me with surprising strength. Her touch is cool against my skin, which feels fever-hot

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

Lyre cuts me off with a finger to her

be within one hundred feet of the building, so he’s across

I blink.

shrugs. "He deserved

I believe her, but...

a standard hospital room—no clinical white walls or plastic chairs. Instead, the space is warm, with natural wood accents and what looks like hand-woven fabric covering the walls. A string of

"Where am I?"

special ward upstairs." Lyre’s lips quirk. "The one

again.

"Yeah, but he isn’t."

dizzy even from that movement. "What does Caine have

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

can’t just drop that and walk away. What does Caine have to

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

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