Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 123: Grace: Comfort

Something shifts in Bun’s eyes. The wildness retreats like a tide going out, leaving behind the little girl I know.

Her features shrink back to normal, pointed ears rounding, claws retracting, even her teeth shortening until they’re just tiny baby teeth again. Her heaving chest slows until soft, hitching whimpers.

Tears drip.

"It’s okay," I whisper, reaching out again. "Bun, honey, it’s me. It’s Grace."

This time, she doesn’t snap. She doesn’t even hesitate.

Her little arms shoot out and wrap around my neck with desperate strength. She buries her face against my collarbone and sobs—not the tantrum cries of a toddler, but something deeper and horrible. The kind of crying you do when you’re so full of fear you can’t even understand what you’re feeling.

I hold her tight, rocking back and forth without even thinking about it. "Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you, baby."

Fenris stands over us like a living shadow, his blue glow pulsing faintly through his midnight fur, but much lighter now. His storm-gray eyes track every movement in the room as Bun’s sobs gradually soften to hiccups.

Jer closes the front door, shutting us out from the roar of rain and wind and thunder. My ears pop when he does.

Only when the toddler is quiet does Fenris sit. But his ears keep swiveling.

The other three children stand together, and my heart hurts to see the blood all over two of them.

"Has this ever happened before?" My voice sounds strange in my own ears. Too calm for the trembling in my chest. I vaguely recall my mom sounding like this sometimes, usually when I was worried about something. Now, I get it.

This is how moms sound when they’re trying to pretend they aren’t scared, too.

Ron’s face is pale beneath his olive complexion, his eyes a little too wide. Blood smears his chest and arms in thin, drying lines. But he’s calm as he says, "No. Nothing like this. Not for any of us."

"But something similar?" I adjust Bun in my arms, feeling her tiny fingers clutch at my shirt as she snuffles against my neck.

"Sometimes we slip a little during a shift. But nothing like this. Might run after a bunny without thinking or go for a run, but..."

Sara shudders and leans into his side, and Ron wraps his arm around her without even looking. His big hand pats at her head. "My skin feels weird and crawly," she mutters. "Like the lightning’s gotten under it."

"Mine, too," Jer pipes up, still holding his hand to his cheek. He winces as he talks.

"How’s your face?" I ask softly.

shrugs. "Still stings. It’ll heal,

him, carefully shifting Bun to my grip so

I reach out and gently pull his chin up to examine the claw marks.

a damp towel. I reach for it, but Ron intercepts, taking it

from basic childcare to even the emergent situation of just moments ago, he’s stepped forward

of Jer, gently

"It doesn’t hurt as much as it did,"

boy says quietly.

his forearm where Bun

be fine. Don’t worry about

should have

time. "No. We can’t go to

catches me off

for people like us," he

Bun, who seems to have fallen asleep. Or maybe she’s just quiet. It’s hard to tell with her face buried

this time, piping up, "We don’t. Not really. And we

in my chest grows, spreading

to shift her to my other arm—but she whines and wraps her arms tightly

nap," Ron says, wiping down his own wounds. Sara snatches

"I’ll do it."

"’Kay."

much trauma, but Bun’s clearly exhausted. I

and

You should

sounds like you’re telling

his hand

sounded like it. He should be

careful

somewhat lightens the heavy load pressing against my heart. "I’ll be back once I

before sticking their tongues

from the distracted Sara and heads

I carry Bun to Lyre’s bedroom. The wolf’s nails click quietly against the floor, and it’s strangely

bedroom is dim, the shades already pulled. There’s a box fan by the bed, and I switch it on, trying to chase away some of the humid heat, though it