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

Caine’s shoulder. My ability to translate baby facial

away. Making eye contact seems like

focus on him instead. There’s a plate of sliced apples next to me—Caine must have put them

doesn’t notice. Then, without looking up, he reaches for an apple slice and pops it into his mouth. His shoulders drop a fraction of an

so quietly domestic, my heart swells a little, even

so shallow as to discard each other the moment something changes. But a

a part

seems okay with it. More than me, and I’m the one drawn to these kids in a way I can’t explain, even to

voice pulls me from my thoughts. I’m staring at nothing, probably looking crazy,

full of mushy apple, cheeks bulging. He hasn’t exactly

I was just

almost done eating, but Jer’s only had a few pieces of apple. I’m not sure any egg has

but I nod anyway. Owen not being here has them

should be back soon," he says casually, loud enough for everyone to hear. "They’re hunting down the perpetrator from

mention Andrew or his little wizard tagalong, and I wonder if they’re with the group or settled

the older kids’ heads snap up in unison,

the others?"

says vaguely, and I wonder if he doesn’t know, either. He doesn’t seem terribly concerned about them. "But things are going to change around here now that the Great One

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

do you know? Are you sure?"

of them talk over each other, their voices

Owen coming

"Is he okay?"

it really the girl with the rainbow hair?" That’s Sara—she must have been listening when we

instant obedience coming from somewhere deep in their