Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 160: Grace: Mentor

"And leave them where, exactly?" Owen asks, his massive form somehow fitting into Lyre’s cramped bedroom without bumping into everything. Bun clings to him like a koala, her tiny face buried in his neck. Her chubby fingers twist into the collar of his shirt, refusing to let go.

"With Grace, far from this territory. I already explained this." Lyre paces the tight space, which is about three steps long on the other side of the bed.

Outside the door, there’s a shuffling of small feet and not-so-hushed whispers.

"It’s not fair," Sara whines. "Owen just got here and she’s hogging him."

"Is she gonna turn him into a toad again?" Jer’s voice rises with curiosity.

"Shut up," Ron hisses. "Get back to the living room and just wait patiently."

I focus back on the conversation in front of me.

"What are we even looking for?" Owen asks, patting Bun’s back. "The notification was vague at best."

Lyre turns, her cat eyes flashing and sharp teeth more apparent than normal as she snarls, "If they know there’s an agent of Chaos, they should damn well say what it is."

Owen’s reply comes out measured and calm, but the bass in his voice still sends a chill down my spine. "They won’t. It’s up to us to figure it out."

I really can’t get over how someone who makes candied fruit for children can sound so much like he’s planning a murder. Nature’s cruel joke—giving the gentlest soul the voice of a hitman.

"No shit, Sherlock," Lyre snarks.

Owen flinches a little. He’s not pale and cringing every time she looks his way anymore, and I wonder how they got so close after the toad incident. Still, it’s clear he has fear of the rainbow-haired woman by the way he avoids her anger.

I would, too, if she ever turned me into something croaky.

"Is this connected to the massacre? Or perhaps the sanguimancer?" Owen asks after an awkward period of silence.

"No." Lyre’s eyes flick to me as she frowns. "It’s probably not about the massacre. It’s about the arcanic storm Chaos threw down when he came to visit our girl here."

Owen’s head jerks toward me, his silver-gray eyes going wide. "You met Chaos?"

a kid who accidentally started a forest fire—and didn’t

lift her head and stare in my direction. His voice

hands and force a laugh. "I’m fine. It was just a dream. Nothing

"Could be anything. A person. A monster. An object left

an open rift," Owen chimes in, bouncing Bun

the familiar sensation of not understanding what they’re saying. "Wait—what’s

cuts him off with a single

his

at me. "She doesn’t

his intimidating frown somehow managing

jaw tightens. This stupid

the drivel coming out of Rafe’s mouth when he

Ugh. Rafe.

again,

looking

centuries old in that moment. "Sorry, Grace. I know it’s irritating. It isn’t fun

Owen nods.

is why he’s a man of few words. I’d naively assumed it was due to his scary voice, but being

kind of. In

me. Her expression

shouldn’t put yourself in danger, even if you’re in danger of failing the mission.

blink, my brain catching on her phrasing. "Wait,

on the fact I was being sent back to Blue

of. I had worried I wouldn’t know what to do, but hadn’t quite followed up

happens if we fail?" I

their faces send a cold prickle down

sort of imposed penalty," Lyre says reluctantly. "But it shouldn’t be terrible for someone like

My hands fidget with the hem of