Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 93: Grace: With Me

The way he phrases it makes my soul want to simultaneously crawl into his lap and drop kisses all over his face, and run screaming into the night so he can never find me again. It’s a dissonance of free will/bonding desire, and I don’t really know how to feel about it.

This whole fated to be with each other thing is a little... much. Until Lyre had broken it down, I’d been under the assumption humans can’t have fated mates. Everyone says so, therefore it must be true—only... it’s not.

Shifting my weight so my left buttcheek doesn’t go numb, I answer, "She’s staying with me."

The words come without conscious thought or consideration of consequences. Not angry, not defensive—just a simple statement of fact. Like saying the sky is blue or water is wet.

She’s mine now. I’ll put my life on the line to make sure she’s safe. I know it from the hair on my head down to my tiniest toenails. This child has wrapped herself around my heart. Learning she has no parents had the decision cemented before I ever consciously thought about it.

Bun snuffles against my shirt, her little fingers curling. It feels right to have her weight and warmth in my lap, like she’s always been meant to be here. Children were never a priority for me. It wasn’t as if I didn’t want to be a mother—of course I do, someday—but it was an abstract future for a much older Grace.

Tiny puffs of warm breath hit my collarbone as she falls back into deeper sleep.

Caine’s eyes narrow slightly. "Then we’ll make arrangements when we return to my territory."

There it is.

The assumption.

We. Us. Together. A package deal.

gentle circles on sweet little Bun’s back while I choose my next words carefully. This isn’t about picking a fight—it’s about establishing

yet. I said she’s with

making him

He must be talking about the bond between

voice soft for Bun’s sake. "But I do understand I’m not property. And

"I never said—"

against me even as I wiggle into a slightly different position. Now my

of his head to acknowledge

too. But it doesn’t mean I’m going to hand over my life, my

forward, forearms on his knees, every line of his body tense. For a moment, he says nothing, just watches Bun’s sleeping form so intensely I hold her a

like the

avoid waking the baby. "No, not exactly." I mean, we’re already fated to be together, right? It seems silly to deny it at this point. "I’m just saying we need to get to know each other. I don’t know what I’m getting into, and you don’t even know what my favorite color is. It’s not conducive to a healthy relationship for us to jump in just

voice falters a little as his eyes gleam

our bodies?" he asks, sounding way too innocent

"You know... meshing."

talking about

are children here," I hiss, swiping at his face with one hand. I miss gagging him by

he finishes smoothly, as if he wasn’t about to say anything about the dirty,

"Yes. That."

I agree. Our bodies mesh quite

there’s the whole if-he-touches-me-I-might-die thing, but it seems the great Lycan King isn’t willing to