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."

he have

"Yes."

me, and I swear

"Can’t he come inside...?"

"No."

truck, starting the engine. The

and Bun burst past me, sprinting toward

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

turns with a scowl sour enough to curdle milk. The toddler, sensing the tension, hesitates too, reaching

for all the world

I repeat, my voice

the steps, shooting

chuffs, bumps my thigh, and slithers

your problem?" Jer

now, "but we need to

his steady presence an immediate balm. "Jer, knock it off.

sag slightly, but

his profile, rigid and alert. I hurry over, jogging the entire way. Fenris

it?" I call

gaze fixed on the

he says, his voice low and hard. "Get

jogging back. Up the steps and into the camper, the lock clicks with

the time I get to the window, he’s already

forcing brightness into my

stare back at me. No

can help you set up," Ron offers, breaking the

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