Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 153

Chapter 152: Lyre: Anchors and Divinities

LYRE

Grace looks like a spooked deer, and I reign in my arcana hard. The poor thing’s a mess. Thankfully, she slept through my little spat with her royal leech last night.

I sigh.

"The storm’s one of his signatures. He likes a dramatic entrance, but it’s not all his fault. Chaos can’t really exist without..." My hands flutter in the air. "Chaos."

"Uh-huh." Grace just looks more confused than ever as she finishes making her cup of coffee. She slides into the bench opposite with me and takes a slow sip, her eyes finally meeting mine without sliding all over the place.

Guess it’s finally time to turn the poor girl’s world upside down.

She sucks in a deep breath. "So, did I sign my own death warrant by meeting him?"

"No, no. Nothing like that."

I tap my finger against the table, watching the girl across from me. Grace is trying so hard to appear casual, but her entire body’s strung tight and her leg keeps jiggling under the table.

"Have you seen any strange apps on your phone recently?" I ask, keeping my voice deliberately light.

Her eyes widen immediately. "Yes! I got this weird notification from Chaos through it. I can’t open it whenever I want, though."

Well, shit.

The confirmation wasn’t really necessary, but it still sucks to hear it.

I sigh deeply, the sound dragging out of me like it weighs a thousand pounds. "Yeah. It’s probably because Chaos pushed up the timeline of your fate."

"What does that mean?" Grace leans forward, her coffee forgotten. She’s a bloodhound of a human now, latching onto the possibility of answers in her strange new life.

I shake my head. Some truths aren’t mine to deliver, and frankly, I’m not in the mood to be smote before lunch. "That’s not something I’m free to share."

Her face falls.

Grace, do you understand what

fiddling with her cup, spinning it between her palms. "If angels exist, then my assumption would be

binary. Good

not exactly wrong, but also,

Her brow furrows adorably.

a who," I explain, "but a what. Chaos is closer to the type of existence one might call ’God’

opening her mouth to ask what appears to be one of fifty burning questions judging by the look in

Balance." I count them off on my fingers, trying to simplify concepts that predate language itself. "All other gods fall under their purview. The Goddess most wolves pray to would be considered a minor divinity, for example. She does not have the power one would think she has compared to

like she’s trying to solve differential equations in

"Are you still following?"

nods slowly. "Kind

of the three ultimate divinities in this world. As you can imagine, chaos is his purview. Anything to disrupt order in this world is under his

she blinks

"Yes. You."

wait for her to process this new

am I... disrupting

order. Your existence

of. He

he would.

for my amusement, of course—watching the confusion grow

because I’m weighing and judging what I can and cannot reveal

failed us both, letting this happen under

flooding my inbox aren’t nearly enough to douse the irritation Chaos has roused in me. Daring to touch Grace, to push her when

What’s

table and poke Grace’s nose, making her blink in surprise. "What do you think an Anchor

has such an expressive face—all her emotions play across it in high definition. Right now, she’s vacillating between annoyed and desperate, caught between wanting

guess? Can’t you just tell me?" Her voice edges into a whine, one hand curling

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