Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 93

Chapter 92: Grace: Awkward Space

My body reacts before my brain even notices. I scramble backward like an awkward human crab, making it a foot away before my right wrist buckles out of nowhere.

My elbow crashes into the ground.

I adjust my position, trying to make my panicked retreat look casual.

I fail.

Spectacularly.

At least if I’m judging by the look on his face.

My cheeks are hot enough to light a fire.

Caine’s hand hangs suspended between us, frozen in mid-air. His face has transformed from brow-creased concern to wide-eyed bewilderment, like I just sprouted a second head.

He’s back to concern, but now it’s the kind of concern you give a kid after they faceplant a sidewalk.

"No touching, remember?" I manage, my voice hitting soprano when it’s usually a comfortable alto.

For a long moment, he stares at his outstretched hand like it’s not even his. Then he slowly brings it back to his side.

Tension thickens between us.

"Right," he mutters. "No touching."

I pull my knees tighter to my chest, wishing I could disappear into the stone floor.

"It’s not that I don’t—" I stop, feeling my face grow even hotter. How does one say yes, I’d like you to touch me without it sounding like a perverted invitation?

So I keep my mouth shut instead of finishing my sentence.

Fated connection or not, I still feel embarrassment. And awkwardness. And like we’re a little too close to feel like strangers now—especially since his hands have literally been in my pants, which is way out of stranger territory—but still feeling as if I don’t know the man at all.

We’ve fast-forwarded through the most basic part of a relationship: getting to know each other. Like, at all.

reason, he can manifest his wolf outside of his body. Three: His touches feel really good. Maybe too good. Four: He doesn’t

there’s a five

have to explain," he

I really do. Because his jaw is doing that tense thing again, and his shoulders have gone rigid,

to end up back in the hospital," I say quickly. "The energy thing, remember? Lyre

cuts me off,

something inside my chest twist up into a spiral of anxiety. It’s hard to take a lungful of breath, and heat flushes through my scalp,

but some of the edge is

seem to have fallen asleep. It would be mortifying if they were watching all this unfold. Sara’s still convinced the Lycan King’s going to eat

this gets any more awkward. "You

shoulders rolling as if shaking off the moment. "Not much

he’d admitted his actions might have

lips together. Maybe it’s better to be quiet,

* * *

exactly uncomfortable. The distant sound of Bun’s soft breathing from

remains statue-still, his profile sharp against the dim

making this worse by

me with sudden clarity. His hand stretched out was an offering, and I scrambled away

of a terrifying Lycan King

like a good girl—but I’ve closed the gap.

away. I

Fiddleback Pack was

alert. This is it—he’s finally answering my first question about why he tore through

"Strange how?"

can’t see. The silence stretches for so long I think maybe he didn’t hear me, but then his hands clench. It’s a subtle movement, but I feel attuned to every last

contact didn’t seem like a big deal when Lyre mentioned

reality is much

want to be with the man. Want to press myself against him.

me keeps

No.

I submit to this strange connection between us. It’s hazed my brain so it’s hard to think of anything else, until I’m willing to accept everything he

it’s

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