Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 115

Chapter 114: Grace: Everything. Is. Fine.

Nothing there. Just the empty dirt clearing and—

"Sadie! Sadie, get back here!"

A golden retriever bounds into view, racing toward the distant RV where someone stands in the doorway, waving.

I exhale a laugh that sounds more like a gasp. See? Dog. Just a dog. Totally normal. Totally fine.

Paranoia’s getting to me. This skin-crawling feeling makes everything seem like some monumental problem instead of just some random neighbor’s dog coming around to sniff the new arrival.

Caine watches me carefully but doesn’t comment. After a long moment, he says, "I need to make a supply run, but it’s at least a fifteen minute drive to town. I’ll be gone about an hour."

"You’re leaving?" My voice pitches higher than I intended.

"There’s no indication we were followed." His tone is calm and measured as he explains, "We need water and fuel. I won’t be long."

I nod, though anxiety crawls up my spine like tiny spiders. He’s right. We need supplies. Who knows how long we’ll be here. Lyre doesn’t sound like she’s coming back tonight. She said they were stopped at a motel because the others were tired.

They were driving all night, so it’s no surprise.

Caine gathers his keys and moves to the door. His hand pauses over the handle as he turns back to me, his gray eyes intense. "Lock this behind me."

"I will."

He steps outside, and I follow him outside, watching as he motions toward the underside of the RV. Fenris appears, manifesting out of thin air, smaller than he usually is. Much like when I thought he was a black dog instead of himself, with only the faintest hint of ethereal glow deep in his fur.

He starts padding toward me, but Caine growls, and he jerks to the side and slithers under the RV, panting in the shade of its cover.

"He’ll stay here."

frown. "Does he

"Yes."

peer at me, and I swear they look

"Can’t he come inside...?"

"No."

into the truck, starting the engine. The moment the truck begins

and Bun burst past me, sprinting toward

harsh. Too sharp. But it’s a moment of

to curdle milk. The toddler, sensing the tension, hesitates too, reaching for Jer’s hand once she

for all the world like... a

I repeat,

shooting

chuffs, bumps my thigh, and slithers back under

your problem?"

I say, softer now, "but we need to stay inside. At least until he

balm. "Jer, knock it off. Treat it

boy’s shoulders sag slightly,

profile, rigid and

it?" I call

glowering out the window, his gaze fixed on the distant RVs, particularly the one with the

and hard. "Get your ass inside and lock the door,

jogging back. Up the steps and into

I get to the window, he’s

forcing brightness

back at me. No

help you set up,"

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