Chapter 162: Grace: Stealing Our House (END BOOK THREE)

We’re going to be traveling for days.

Days.

With a bunch of kids crammed into a truck. There won’t be enough room to stretch out, and there are only so many snacks you can cram down a child before they get full.

I’m already nervous.

And Bun doesn’t even have a carseat. Worse, even if we buy her one, there isn’t room for it.

I gnaw at my lower lip. If we get into an accident, I’ll never forgive myself for not having a car seat for the baby... but the idea of sending one of the kids in the car with Andrew unsupervised makes me want to vomit. Or have a panic attack. Or both.

Andrew’s been... nice. Helpful. He hasn’t complained once about suddenly being under the thumb of the Lycan King—but then again, why would he? It’s putting his life on the line for nothing.

So, while he hasn’t done anything outright to harm us, I just can’t quite trust him. Not with my kids.

When I look up, Lyre’s staring out the window again, her body unnaturally still.

"What’s wrong?" I ask, abandoning the pile of books I’m trying to cram into a closet. It’s more like I was staring at them while thinking about seat arrangements, anyway.

Her cat-like eyes narrow as she points through the glass. "Is that the couple you had dinner with?"

I follow her gaze. "Yeah, that’s them. Archie and Doris. They were really sweet."

Lyre doesn’t look convinced. She studies their vehicle with unsettling intensity, then raises her phone and snaps a photo.

"What are you doing?" I ask, a cold feeling settling in my stomach.

"People aren’t always what they seem, that’s all." She tucks her phone away with a casual shrug, but it feels anything but casual. "Paranoia comes with the job, Grace."

I frown, unconvinced.

over dinner had given me goosebumps, and they were both a little too friendly. But dangerous? They’re just a pair of

at remembering

say, but doubt

"Maybe."

a loud, frantic bout of barking erupts outside, followed by

"Fenris, no!"

"Sara, grab her!"

"Someone get Caine!"

lock eyes for a split second before bolting for the door. I nearly trip

teeth bared, hackles high, with a deep

body low to the ground in a strange mix of fear and defiance. Ron holds Bun protectively against his chest

stop!" I call out, stepping toward him

behind the camper—he was on put-away-the-generator duty—and grabs Fenris by the scruff. The

for the

smells wrong," the Lycan translates, his face impassive as he also stares down the poor

arm against my shoulder. "Well, it’s supposed to," she replies evenly. "You can’t blame

What a strange response.

because he immediately glowers at her. "What do you

standoff, zooms in a happy circle around all of us—like

cry out, but it’s

doubles over, laughing so hard he can barely

older brother sighs. Ron has a specific, Jer-said-something-stupid-again sigh. "How can she steal a house, Jeridiot? If anything, it’s a home

think this is the point to

taking off after the dog. "Come back, Sadie! You can’t go in there! We’re getting

headache bloom. These children have only one level of volume,

her arm from my shoulder.

I shake my head vehemently. "She’s not our dog. We can’t

continues to stare daggers at the camper where Sadie disappeared before disappearing like he never existed. "Wolves and dogs don’t mix," he grumbles. "I’ll get

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