Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 124: Caine: No Limits

CAINE

The truck’s tires skid through mud as I slam to a halt beside the camper. I don’t bother turning it off—just fling the door open and launch myself into the rain.

Every heartbeat is louder than the last, drumming insistently through my veins as I wrench the camper door open. The entire thing rocks as I storm inside, halting only when I see three kids standing in front of me, eyes wide and smelling of fresh panic.

I scared them.

Idiot, Fenris mutters, like he wasn’t the one to send me the get back here as fast as you can message less than ten minutes ago.

Ron, shirtless and bleeding, stares blankly as he holds a towel to one of his wounds.

"What happened?" The question rips from my throat even though I already know. Fenris told me—Bun lost control. Granted, the worthless lump of fur and fang was short on detail and ignored me when I demanded more, saying he was a too busy to explain.

Ron immediately stiffens, shoving the bloody cloth behind his back. "Nothing."

His jaw sets, defiant despite standing half a foot shorter than me and looking like he went three rounds with a mountain lion. The kid has balls. He doesn’t want me upset with the baby.

He has no idea I already know.

"Bun’s asleep," he adds, dropping his to a whisper. "Be quiet."

And if you wake her, I’ll bite you myself, Fenris murmurs.

Oh, now he talks.

I was busy.

There’s a deep, visceral urge to snarl aloud at my own damn wolf, but I throttle it back. Ron already thinks I’m glaring at him, not privy to the conversation in my head.

I force my shoulders to relax and close the door softly behind me, shutting out the storm’s howl. Water drips from my clothes onto the floor, pooling around my boots.

Should probably turn off the truck, too.

A small gasp comes from the only girl of the trio. What’s her name again? She avoids me for the most part, but I’d been under the impression she was getting better about it. Apparently not.

"You’re getting everything wet," she whispers, something close to horror in her voice.

Before I can respond, she bolts toward the back bathroom and returns with a faded blue towel, which she hurls at my feet like she’s afraid to come within arm’s reach.

You’d think I was the monster in this scenario, and not the toddler who carved up two of her packmates.

Fenris growls. Take care of the pups while Grace sleeps.

to the towel. "Grace is

know.

course, I wasn’t talking

Yes.

the kids are still bleeding? Perhaps all of this stress has been too much on someone still recovering. Humans

track my every move. Jer’s small face has

most wounds, but it only takes a glance for me to see they’re already healing. Within an hour,

all more

I order all three of them, spreading

of them move, and I look up with narrowed eyes.

cracks between us, and

the towel on the floor. "Tell me exactly what

glances. Ron speaks

Bun..." He pauses, choosing his words carefully. "She started shifting. But not normal.

"Wrong how?"

whispers. "Not like

frown. "That’s

interrupts, his small face pinched with fear. "We saw it. She went all weird and growly and

wounds more carefully. Deep puncture marks, claw rakes across the sternum. Defensive wounds on the arms. It looks like an adult attack, not something a toddler

trigger her?

the storm. We were

were playing hide and seek before, but then we were just sitting here when she

crazy," Ron snaps. "She just lost control for

shifter. Something

But a toddler generating this kind of violence? The damage Ron’s sporting would require significant strength and intent—neither of which

happened before?"

Ron hesitates. "No."

in his tone indicates there’s more he

"Explain."

different. But never

do you mean,

back of his neck with a sigh. "Jer

a brow in a

and

voice is still

deep breath, then releasing it in a sudden whoosh. He grimaces. "More than no limit. I could shift into a dragon if you really wanted me to. Or a griffin. Anything I

it, Fenris says as I stare blankly at this large child. She was not forming into any recognizable

the kid, trying to gauge whether he’s serious or just trying to sound impressive. Dragons? The sheer

Caine.

Ron flinches. "Not