Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 78: Caine: Unnatural Silence (II)

CAINE

Bodies lie scattered around us, some moving, most still.

Fenris, sensing my intention, shrinks himself down to a less imposing size—though still massive by any normal wolf standard. The blue glow around him dims to a gentle aura as he pants, surveying our carnage with grim satisfaction.

I let my shift reverse, bones cracking back into human form. Changing when wounded is never recommended, as it can make everything worse. Pain radiates through my body as wounds reshape themselves. My vision clears from wolf to human.

A Fiddleback nearby twitches, trying to crawl away. I stride toward it, naked and bloodied but unconcerned with such trivial matters. My foot connects with its ribs—not hard enough to break, just enough to turn it over.

"Shift." The word carries only a whisper of my dominance, but it’s enough.

The wolf’s body contorts, bones reshaping at an agonizingly slow pace. This time, the transformation happens as it should—not the unnatural speed from before. Paws elongate into fingers. Fur recedes into skin. Muzzle shortens to a human face.

A woman. Mid-fifties perhaps. Thin face, sharp features. Recognition flickers—Halloway introduced her earlier. Something about treasury management. I didn’t bother committing her name to memory. It was unimportant then, and only mildly useful now.

I place my bare foot against her throat, not pressing down—yet. "Where’s Halloway?"

Her eyes dart wildly around the room. Blood trickles from a cut above her brow. Her arm’s flopped at an unnatural angle and her breath comes in short, desperate gasps.

"I—I don’t know—"

My foot presses down slightly, cutting off her words. "Try again."

Fear sharpens in her eyes. "I don’t—"

My voice remains level, but the pressure on her throat increases. "I don’t have time for your lies."

She swallows hard against my foot. "He’s... he’s looking for your Luna."

My spine turns to ice. "What do you mean?"

The woman coughs, her windpipe constricting beneath my foot. I ease the pressure—just enough to let her speak. Death would be too merciful for what I need now.

breath. Internal injuries, probably from the

narrow. "Escaped?

dart sideways,

down again, just enough

chokes

within me. If Grace escaped,

be there soon.

little to soothe the worry and anger blending together

kneel beside the woman, blood from my wounds dripping onto her face. "Why were you stupid enough to think

she croons, "None can escape the Great One." Her voice strengthens despite her broken body. "Her powers eclipse that of

fear gods, or monsters. But it’s never

narrow my eyes. "Who

the sound immediately turns into a sputtering, wet cough. "You’ll know soon enough,"

floors. Blood paints abstract patterns across

is your Great One now?" I grab her chin, forcing her to look at the carnage. "Fiddleback’s abandoned. I’ve won. You’ve

in a bloody grin. "She is everywhere. She

into a groan. Not just from the woman beneath me, but from every living body scattered across the floor. The fallen wolves arch their backs, spines cracking as

screaming howl they emit defies description, a chorus of agony

ears, but it does nothing to block the

back arching like the

Fenris’s voice provides a buffer

wolves

flesh in seconds. Skin pulls tight across her cheekbones, then desiccates,

seconds, what was once a

shrivel beneath their

The screaming stops.

somehow

cautiously, sniffing one

Thom? I scan the