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.

its gentle circles on sweet little Bun’s back while I choose my next words carefully. This isn’t about picking

I said she’s with me. Not

his face are more pronounced, making him seem

He must be talking about the bond between

acknowledge, keeping my voice soft for Bun’s sake. "But I do understand

"I never said—"

even as I wiggle into a slightly different position. Now my right cheek wants to go numb. "Look, Caine. I know there’s something between us. We’re fated

of his head to acknowledge my words, even as his eyes burn

hand over

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

me to court you," he finally says, like the concept is completely foreign. Not angry,

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

a little as his

sounding way too innocent for the predatory look

"You know... meshing."

you talking about when

swiping at his face with one hand. I miss gagging him

he wasn’t about to say anything about the dirty, naughty things his mouth and hands

"Yes. That."

nods. "Then I agree. Our bodies mesh quite

the whole if-he-touches-me-I-might-die thing, but it seems the great Lycan King