Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 97: Grace: One Tiny Fist

My back aches against the cave wall, but I don’t dare move. Bun’s warm weight anchors me where I am, her slight body rising and falling with each breath, rabbit ears occasionally twitching against my stomach. I’m not even sure when they appeared. When Caine was done explaining how chess was something his father taught him as a child—in an effort to teach strategic thinking for battle, which made his confession seem a little less lighthearted than it was—I’d looked down, and there they were. Little white rabbit ears.

And a tiny puff coming out of her diaper. I can’t smell anything, so I’m about seventy-five percent certain it’s a little puffy rabbit tail and not... something else.

She’s completely conked out, one tiny fist clutching my shirt like I might disappear if she lets go.

An inch away—literally just one inch—Caine sits with his back against the same wall, arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed. He’s not sleeping. I can tell by the rhythm of his breathing. Too measured. Too controlled. The space between us pulses with unspoken tension, an invisible boundary neither of us wants to breach.

Or, more accurately... one we want to breach, yet can’t.

I shift slightly, and my shoulder nearly grazes his. My entire body goes rigid, muscles locking up as if he’s poison. Or a live, sparking power line.

This is ridiculous. We’ve had sex (well... partly), but now I’m terrified of our shoulders bumping? And our conversation’s come to a complete, grinding halt.

Maybe I’ve made everything worse with my boundaries. Maybe I should’ve just let whatever this is between us unfold naturally instead of trying to control it. But every time I think about giving in, there’s something inside me begging to stick to it.

I glance at his profile in the dim light. There’s stubble covering his jaw, darker than this morning. His eyelashes are long and lush, and instead of envy my first thought goes to eventual children and if they’ll have his eyelashes.

Now I get it, what he said about imagining a life together. Kids. The whole shebang and probably the little dog too.

Well—no, nix the dog. No cats, either. Wolf shifters don’t do pets.

Dinner, yes. Pets? Not so much.

And yet, despite me throwing down rules and needs and confusing him with where my heart’s at, he’s still here. Staying. His shoulder next to mine, respecting my space but not continuing distance.

My heart thumps hard.

No psychopathic serial killer would treat a girl like this. Then again, Ted Bundy got married—no. No more negative thoughts.

What happened with Brax and the others wasn’t murder. It was pack justice.

on it is only going to

waking and dreaming when shuffling footsteps jerk me back into

from the darkness of the sleeping alcove, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. His dark hair stands up

the air when he sees us, his eyes widening as they lock onto

shifts uncomfortably, glancing between me, Caine, and the sleeping toddler. "Not even Owen gets

at her—protective, confused, a little hurt—makes me wonder if I’ve stepped into

"She just climbed into my lap and fell asleep.

take her back to bed," he offers, reaching out his

barely brush Bun’s shoulder before she stirs, her face scrunching up in immediate distress. Her tiny hand tightens

Her entire body curls tighter against me, rabbit

into sleep. "Shh, it’s okay," I murmur, one hand stroking her back in gentle circles.

in his eyes hits me harder than I expected. This isn’t a competition, but somehow it feels like I’ve won something

"Leave her."

firm, without a hint of aggression but filled with quiet authority. His eyes are open now,

subtle but unmistakable—the way his shoulders pull back, chin lifting slightly. A response to an

backing away a step.

she is," Caine says, his tone softer, but no

growing heavier in my arms. "Actually, I should probably put her to bed properly." Struggling to my feet without jostling her is a new skill, one I’m going to have master as soon as humanly possible. My legs prickle with pins and needles after sitting so long, but I manage to

victory, but I’ll

in one fluid motion beside me, close enough for me to feel the heat radiating from his body without actually touching him. He doesn’t offer to help, doesn’t

children’s alcove is warmer than the main cave. While the makeshift beds are all just piles of blankets, Sara and Jer are sleeping so deeply, they

her fingers from my shirt. She whimpers, her face crumpling

her forehead. "I’m not going far. Just sleep now,

I can’t explain—a fierce protectiveness I’ve never felt before. I tuck the blanket around her tiny form, marveling at how someone so small could carve out such a huge space

murmur, leaning down to press a light kiss to her

watching as her breathing evens out again, her grip gradually loosening as she slips deeper into

my finger and rise to leave—only to freeze