Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 154

Chapter 153: Grace: Feared and Revered

Something’s off with Lyre.

Her multicolored hair catches the morning light streaming through the RV’s windows, but the usual sparkle in her cat-like eyes is missing. Her slender fingers drum against the table, creating an irregular pattern as her gaze drifts somewhere past my shoulder, unfocused and distant.

This isn’t the Lyre I’ve come to know—the one who’s always three steps ahead, confident to the point of arrogance and always ready with a sarcastic comment or cryptic warning. This one looks... worried.

"There’s a reason you aren’t very open with me, isn’t there?" I ask softly, breaking the silence between us. She’s completely stopped talking.

She sighs, her fingers pausing their restless dance. She taps the back of her phone with painted nails and gives me a smile, though it doesn’t reach her eyes.

"If I say too much, I risk losing too much."

More cryptic answers.

"Losing what? I mean... you don’t seem very attached to anything."

I mean, Lyre travels light and lives like some sort of nomad. This RV is her most substantial possession, but even it feels temporary—a vessel for freedom rather than something to treasure.

Her whole existence seems designed for minimum attachment, maximum mobility.

Instead of answering with words, Lyre lifts her palm. Something shimmers in the air above her hand, condensing into a perfect, glistening orb of water that hovers impossibly in midair. It catches the light, sending tiny rainbows dancing across her face.

"It could be as simple as this power," she says, her voice stripped of its usual playfulness. "Or we could lose time."

The water orb dissolves, droplets vanishing before they hit the table.

"Time?" I repeat, not understanding.

"Imagine you—back when you were terrified of Caine, running from him. Yes?"

I nod silently. Those memories feel both recent and distant—like they happened to a different version of me. And yet it’s only been a timeline of days.

Crazy how much can happen in a single stretch of twenty-four hours.

"Now imagine waking up naked in his arms, with no understanding of how you got there, and now he’s obsessed with you."

I blink rapidly, my stomach twisting at the thought. That would be... terrible. Disorienting. Beyond awkward.

Lyre’s eyes darken at my expression. "This is the kind of thing that can happen when a timeline is shifted. If those of divinity interfere excessively in the lives of mortals..."

I spin my coffee mug again, thinking it through. "So, if you tell me too much, it’s considered excessive interference?"

"Of course." She leans back with a sigh. "There are rules, Grace. Even for beings like me. Losing my power for even a few years wouldn’t be much of a hassle before, but it would be detrimental now. Even an hour can change everything."

trying to connect all these weird puzzle pieces into some sort of coherent picture. If telling me

are you telling me things now?" I frown, resting my elbows on the

opened the door. But it’s

piece of information only spawns more questions, but one rises above

helping me?" I finally ask, the question that’s been nagging at me since she

"Because you’re an Anchor."

"So far all I know is that I’m supposedly special and can calm down some angry moods. And that Chaos is interested in me, which is terrifying, by the

It’s

a hint of her usual snark returning as she gestures vaguely toward the outside, where Caine and the kids are still playing. "Sure, it helps his erratic mood

how differently he’s presented himself in recent days. He’s

single restraint or gag. No choking, either. Instead, he’s been... sweet. Caring. Very

just the Lycan King you

I straighten. "Bun, too."

Yes. You can even affect..." She points to herself

"But I don’t have

"Because I have control."

Oh.

That makes sense.

people

what makes an Anchor so

my lip, rolling it between my teeth as I think it through. "So I’m

You’re definitely

at Lyre. "Anchors don’t sound...

Anchor is separate from your physical

the words she speaks is very different from understanding the meaning, and

cold; my stomach’s a little too queasy to try another sip. "Why are Anchors

there are plenty of gods out there who’d rather

just squashed itself into a pancake.

the ability to

through me, goosebumps rising on

gods wanting me dead. Jesus. "It exists outside of Order and Chaos. Fate doesn’t

of Fate

"Yes. Someone like you would see Fate as a being

stronger

stabilizing influence in this world." She

the weight of her

An Anchor. Blessed by Fate, both feared and

body. It’s gone from pancake to something existing on its own,

Hah.

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