Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 64: Grace: My Fault

Lyre keeps pulling out her phone and frowning. At first, I thought it was her way of avoiding more conversation about my parents and my identity.

Turns out I was wrong. Lyre’s shameless enough to refuse to answer questions outright, without excuses. Remembering her past frustration over not being able to give me clear answers, I’m starting to wonder if maybe...

I don’t know. It’s weird.

Maybe she really can’t tell me some things. She’s said as much, so it isn’t too far-fetched of an idea, but it seems like there’s something keeping her from spilling everything she knows.

Lyre’s phone gives another annoying ding. She scoffs, glaring at the screen before shoving it into her pocket with more force than necessary.

"Something wrong?"

She waves a dismissive hand through the air. "Your boyfriend’s headed out to greet the local alpha."

"He’s not my—" The denial sticks in my throat again, because... well. Then my mind catches up with the rest of her sentence. "Wait, what?"

"Your Lycan King has deigned to socialize with the local pack. Progress, I suppose."

My stomach drops. The image of Caine splattered with blood and surrounded by bodies flashes through my mind. "Is he going to kill everyone here too?"

The moment the words leave my mouth, I realize how blunt—and ridiculous—they sound. But Lyre doesn’t seem offended. Instead, her catlike eyes narrow and she tilts her head back, looking at me as if I’m some strange specimen on display at a museum.

"What makes you think he’s going to kill anyone?"

"I mean..." Sure, Caine hasn’t exactly been super murderous around me since then. Especially when things got steamy between us. But the memory of that night is going to be branded in my brain forever. The snarls. The screams. The wet, meaty sounds of violence I tried so hard not to hear.

him, and he might be my fated mate for some strange reason, but ultimately, he’s still... who he is. I’m still wrapping my head around the idea a killer can genuinely

started massacred my pack." Wait. Now it sounds like he killed everyone.

Her slightly sharp teeth glint in the light. "Tell me, what kind

answer comes without hesitation or thought. No consideration, no moment of reflection. It’s hard to

patting at her chest as she clears her throat. "Okay. And what does that make you? The

as I groan, "Shameless. I’m pretty sure I’m going to

belly laughter fill the room. "If there is a hell, we’re all headed there for one reason or another." She taps a finger against her lips as she snickers, de-escalating her amusement. "Though I have to wonder—if you believe he’s a cold-blooded killer, why did you

respond, then close it. The simple, terrible truth is that there’s

is tiny as I admit it. "When he touches me,

for

"What do you mean?"

him, that’s all. And he doesn’t seem emotionally intelligent enough to navigate the maze in your

premise—Caine and I being fated—some of her earlier comments made a lot of sense,

I was oblivious. Maybe on purpose, refusing to see what was in front of my face. Now, I know exactly what she meant when

did the Lycan

"I don’t know."

Do you really

fingers twist in the thin

"I—"

The weight of his dominance crushing the room. Fenris, appearing

remember the conversation that preceded the slaughter. The

have already known then what

crushing melancholy. "He did it because of me," I whisper, the realization

"What?"