Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 102: Grace: Pack

Bun continues to scarf at her piece of buttered toast with all the hunger of someone who hasn’t eaten in a month, even if her chubby little rolls bely her actions.

Her death grip on my shirt has loosened significantly as her focus shifts entirely to the food.

"I see how it is," I murmur against her hair. "Food trumps fear every time."

Her eyes, wide and shining, meet mine as she chews. For the tiniest moment, I swear they change from brown to blue, then back again. Another piece of toast disappears into her mouth.

Ron peels a banana and leans over, holding it out in his hand like he’s trying to coax a wild animal. "Want some banana? Your favorite."

Bun turns at the sound of his voice, her entire body going rigid. The halfhearted smile on Ron’s face falters as her mouth opens and an ear-splitting shriek fills the cave.

No words. Just pure, agonizing, shrill shrieking as she throws herself back against my chest with enough force for me to tip over. I catch myself with one hand on the floor, and Caine jerks toward me like he’s going to catch me. Thankfully, one of the toddler’s flailing fists whacks his hand away before our skin can touch.

"Sorry," Ron mutters, backing away with the rejected banana. The defeat in his eyes makes my chest ache.

"She’s adjusting," Caine tells him, pulling Bun out of my arms with practiced efficiency. Even with her wild, maniacal movements, he swoops her into his embrace without a blink.

She screams louder, and he walks away, heading into the kitchen. "Pups who scream don’t eat," he warns her with a steady, stern voice.

The decibels continue to climb.

Sara scoots a little closer to Ron and snags the toast from his plate.

"Hey!" He scowls, but doesn’t make a move to grab it back.

Without missing a beat, she rolls her eyes. "Oh please, you weren’t even going to eat it. And it’s going cold."

was already cold," Ron grumbles, but there’s no heat

angrily chewing on a piece of apple, staring at me over Caine’s shoulder. My ability to translate baby facial expressions is still new, but I’m pretty sure she’s

glance away. Making eye contact seems like a

plate of sliced apples next to

for an apple slice and pops it into his mouth. His shoulders drop

quietly domestic, my heart swells a little, even as my panic

into, nothing so shallow as to discard each other the moment something changes. But a real pack, nonetheless, messy and awkward

Caine? He’s a part

with it. More than me, and I’m the one drawn to these kids in a way

nothing, probably looking crazy, and he’s only a

of mushy apple, cheeks bulging. He hasn’t exactly won her over, but it looks like they’ve achieved some sort

okay. I

for a moment, his expression thoughtful. They’re almost done eating, but Jer’s only had a few pieces of apple.

question, but I nod anyway. Owen not being here has them spooked. He’s their

Owen, and Jack-Eye should be back soon," he says casually, loud enough for everyone to hear. "They’re hunting down the perpetrator

wizard tagalong, and I wonder if they’re with the group

the older kids’ heads snap

about the others?" I ask, playing

concerned about them. "But things are going to change

against her plate. "The Great One is dead?" Her voice pitches higher

you know? Are you sure?" Jer demands, leaning

talk over each other, their

is Owen

"Is he okay?"

the girl with the rainbow hair?" That’s Sara—she must have been listening when we were talking to Lyre yesterday. A mild surprise, considering

they fall silent immediately. It’s a kind of instant obedience coming from somewhere deep