Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 127: Grace: Waking to Chaos (II)

The now-familiar beeps wake me up again.

My throat is raw and scratchy. My body weighs a thousand pounds, limbs heavy and uncooperative as I try to push myself up, but it’s still better than the dream I just had.

Something’s off. The air is too still, too warm. The fan’s off.

I grope for the light beside the bed, clicking the switch. Nothing. Power’s still out, as expected.

The gentle patter of rain against the metal roof fills the silence—still storming then. But underneath that steady rhythm, there’s something missing. No shuffling of little feet. No whispered conversations between the kids. No soft breathing from Bun beside me.

Bun.

My heart slams against my ribs as I pat the bed around me. Empty. "Bun?" My voice cracks. The darkness offers no answer, just a hollow silence that screams wrong wrong wrong.

Then—faintly—laughter. Children’s voices from outside the camper, muted by distance and rain.

They’re outside? In this strange storm? Alone?

Adrenaline floods my system and I bolt upright, my head spinning from the sudden movement. My legs tangle in the sheets as I scramble toward the bedroom door, toward the sound. One foot catches, and I stumble forward, pitching headfirst into the narrow hallway.

The world tilts as I tumble down the small stairwell, my shoulder slamming into the wall, knee cracking against the floor. Pain bursts white-hot behind my eyes. I land in an ungraceful heap at the bottom, bruised and disoriented.

I push myself up onto my hands, ready to crawl if I have to, when—

"Stay where you are, Jer. Sara, hold onto Bun for me."

Caine’s voice cuts through my panic like a knife—deep, commanding, but oddly gentle. The single anchor in a world gone sideways.

My wild heartbeat stutters, then slows. I freeze, hands pressed against the cool floor, and force myself to breathe. One deep inhale. One shaky exhale. They’re not alone. Caine’s with them. They’re safe. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.

I pull myself to my feet, wincing as I brush dirt from my palms and rub at my throbbing knees. My gaze drifts to the wall-mounted solar panel monitor, and I blink, confused by the display. The battery percentage is dancing erratically, flashing impossible numbers—394%... 712%... 1046%—too high to be real.

thinking, I smack the display with my palm. The screen goes black, then flickers back to life with more reasonable numbers. 57%. Not great, but not

long I’ve been

flicker on overhead a moment later, and the blessed hum of the air conditioner

few desperate swallows later, the cool liquid soothes my parched throat. It doesn’t do anything for the lingering unease clinging to

face, talking about Order and Balance and Chaos like they

silent sentinel of electricity use. I follow the sound, eyes scanning the small space until they land on

a sound the device has ever

it up, frowning at the

App (Restricted): 2

one of Lyre’s weird apps? That would make sense. It probably synced

and throw a mental

is sleek. A minimalist black background with glowing white text and shimmering silver icons. Three tabs glow at the top: DMs, Urgent Requests, and

Under Warnings, a notification:

Mortal

What the actual hell? I tap the notification, but it only

finger hovers over the DMs tab, hesitating before I

you, my sweet little anchor. Tell Lyrielle I

my lungs in a rush, and I’m

is who I met in my dream? And he’s connected to this strange

has to be some elaborate prank, or a weird

WARNING: Breach

pops up as

CHAOS-thread intrusion beyond permitted thresholds. Divine boundary integrity

Unauthorized Entity: CHAOS

Event Cascade: ACTIVE

Temporal bleed risk: ELEVATED

Convergence trajectory: UNSTABLE

Current Timeline Viability: 71%

Recommended Action: