Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 157: Jack-Eye: Standoff

JACK-EYE

Waves of dominance brush against the SUV as we roll up to the boondocking spot. I kill the engine, but don’t move right away. I’m in no rush to jump into the shitstorm brewing outside.

Lyre and Caine stand about ten feet apart, locked in some kind of standoff. Her rainbow hair seems to catch non-existent wind while he’s rigid and ready to attack.

The pressure wave of their combined power crashes against the car windows.

"This is gonna be great," Andrew mutters. He’s getting pretty mouthy.

I grunt in response. The question is whose side I’m taking when things go nuclear. Loyalty says Caine, but my dick has other ideas, especially with Lyre’s ass so perfectly molded by her jeans.

Owen doesn’t hesitate. The car’s barely stopped when he flings the door open and takes off toward the RV, not even glancing at the supernatural pissing contest. His stride is long, purposeful—a man with his mind on one thing only.

He’s been impatiently waiting for us to get here, to the point of dragging Thom into the shower to wake him up with cold water. The concept of lazing about until five minutes before check-out was denied with a flat stare and a grunt.

"Priorities, huh." I watch him disappear inside, wondering how it feels to have kids to worry about.

I wonder what Lyre’s natural hair color is...

"Are we coming with you?" Andrew asks, interrupting my happy thoughts.

I sigh.

"Yeah."

Whatever Caine and Lyre are fighting about—

way to

and saunter toward them, hands in pockets, forcing casual confidence. The air between

I be recording this for posterity," I call out, "or

toward me, a growl rumbling from his chest. He’s not

slitted eyes narrow dangerously.

Wrong time. Message received.

me and my mate again. Ever." My friend’s voice is deadly quiet. Looks like Grace was in the center of it again. No surprise there; Caine seems

sigh. His alpha dominance doesn’t even faze her, which is is hotter than her ass in those jeans, but not as hot as her naked yesterday. "Sometimes you’re just going to have

"Words are useful, Lyre."

to use words." Her tone drips

he’s holding back. The man’s never been known for his patience for

calmer once. A

up at the sky, pressing her lips together. For some reason, I

exist, settling the

worked because I wasn’t expecting it," Caine announces, finally letting up on his

whatever strange power she possesses, or if Caine’s actually respecting

can only share with Grace. Don’t you dare pressure her into telling you anything, either. If

waves—Caine’s familiar, roiling and wolfish, pressing down like gravity, but Lyre’s... hers feels different. Ancient. Like standing at the edge of

the fuck they’re actually arguing about since I’ll probably need to pick

A dreamy

abject devotion, and my stomach curdles at the sight. The way he stares at her—like she’s the moon and he’s nothing but a helpless tide—makes

as Caine and Lyre both realize potential victims are nearby, and I struggle to keep my own in check. Letting out a little dominance around your already-agitated alpha is a great

unless your name

be neutering wizards