Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 63: Caine: Ten Minutes

CAINE

In hindsight, our arrival to the hospital could have been handled better.

Fenris grumbles, refusing to acknowledge his part in the chaos. He’s still upset to learn wolves aren’t allowed in the hospital. Service animals only.

... and getting mad at your mate’s doctors for refusing him entry doesn’t endear you to the hospital staff—or security.

Granted, I could have stood my ground. It isn’t as if their pathetic security force is enough to stop the wrath of a Lycan, much less their king. From what I can tell, even an average beta could wreck the place. After all, like most hospitals, they cater to humans. Even a weak shifter can overpower an average human.

A place like this doesn’t need someone capable of standing up to an alpha, much less a Lycan. Most of us don’t even heal slow enough to require hospital care. A few might require intensive treatment if they’re too weak for natural healing to kick in, but such situations are rare. Broken bones do need treatment, but rarely require an overnight stay. By far, the majority of shifters admitted to a hospital are there for one reason: Pregnancy.

Illness and injury may not plague our people the way it haunts a human’s lifetime, but even supernaturals can have issues with birthing offspring.

Which explains why the humans became so squirrelly when I threatened to throw her first doctor through a wall, daring to tell me our presence is unnecessary because Grace was just sleeping. A violent environment is no place to bring a fresh pup into the world.

Magnanimous as I am, I allowed their pathetic security force to escort me off hospital grounds...

Only because Lyre threatened to lock you out of her home if you didn’t, Fenris huffs. You can’t keep treating humans like this if you want Grace to like you.

She does like me. This fact is now established. Granted, she liked me a little too much and fainted afterward...

I check my phone again, a growl building in my throat. Nothing. The screen remains stubbornly blank, no new messages from Lyre.

Ten minutes. Ten goddamn minutes since her last update.

She said Grace is stable. You heard the doctor yourself.

"I don’t trust them," I mutter, pacing outside of the gas station conveniently located across the street from the hospital. They want me one hundred feet away, which is fine... but I’m not going any farther. "How hard is it to send a text?"

She’s ignoring you. Stop demanding updates every five minutes. She has better things to do, like actually watching over Grace.

I grit my teeth over the annoying truth of his words. "Don’t start."

Maybe he’s right, though. Five minutes might be extreme. Ten minutes should be fine, though.

I wasn’t the one who threatened to disembowel the nurse for asking you to fill out paperwork.

My eyebrows snap together. "He was keeping me from Grace. Her IV was pulling at her skin—"

He was doing his job. And Lyre fixed the IV.

The rainbow-haired enigma had even slapped my hand away again, telling me in no uncertain terms to stay away from Grace. That’s when it all started. The humans had given me strange looks.

Fine. Maybe he’s right about the one instance, but the rest...

You mean the doctor you pinned against the wall?

"He told us to leave."

you yelled at for asking you

"She was disrespectful."

it does make me sound a little out of control. Not as much as normal, but my mind has enough clarity today to recognize what

the receptionist you made cry when she couldn’t access Grace’s file

my teeth. "Are

Someone should.

flinches, scurrying to

phone’s still silent, even after listening to Fenris list my transgressions. Like he’s some sort of priest

isn’t about me.

to keep it a little quieter than normal. These humans find talking to yourself strange, despite it being a

a great choice

Grace, though. She’s comfortable

ruining the small surge of pride and affection coursing through me over the

"I’m not—"

Grace. Instead of admitting it, you’re lashing out at everyone else. Kings have pride, but only

stretches between us, heavy

notification. Every muscle

[LYRE: She’s fine.]

growl at the screen, as if it might reveal more information under threat. "What the hell does

words after making me wait fifteen minutes. The vague

make his home. It’s all an act, though. I can feel the anxiety radiating from his

furiously, thumbs punching the

Is she awake?

appear, indicating Lyre’s typing a response, then disappear. Appear again. Disappear. My patience frays with each

Ask nicely, Fenris suggests.

"Fuck off."

man walking past gives me a startled look before quickening his pace.

phone remains stubbornly silent. No typing

that sterile building across the street. The distance—mere hundreds of feet—feels like miles. An insurmountable barrier erected between

I’ll try it

me on her condition. Is

comes

test results. She needs more rest. I’m sure they’ll keep her

through me. She’s awake. Conscious. Speaking. The tightness in my chest loosens just

Can I

immediate response:

throat, rumbling so loud a car pulling into the gas station diverts to another pump farther

They’ll call security again. She doesn’t

suppose

"High Alpha?"

I wonder why the Fiddleback Pack keeps sending idiots to speak with the

snap, turning

in an almost challenging posture. Dark brown hair swoops across his forehead, and he smiles at me with perfect white teeth. His stance suggests casual confidence, like we’re equals meeting at a bar rather than

Dawson. Everyone calls me Marsh." He extends