Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 191: Grace: Her Return

Returning to the pack feels weird.

Worse than weird.

Icky.

Yeah, icky is a good word for it.

I stare out the window as Andrew pulls into a large, semi-circular driveway toward the edge of town. My stomach knots tighter with each rotation of the tires, like my body is physically rejecting the idea of being back on Blue Mountain territory.

The last time I was here, I was running away. Now it kind of feels like I’m crawling back with my tail between my legs—except I don’t have a tail because I’m human, which is exactly the problem in the first place.

Caine’s already backed the RV beside a small home with boarded-up windows. The fading light catches on the dusty greenhouse attached to the main building, its glass panels shattered in places, jagged teeth ready to bite anyone who ventures too close.

"What’s the name of this place again?"

"Miller’s Flowers." Andrew’s voice is flat as he parks. "It’s been empty since Eliza Miller moved to a different pack."

The memory clicks. "The omega who married that beta from North Ridge?"

"Yeah."

Eliza was sweet. She used to give me flowers whenever I ran into her. Of course, I’d only been here a year when she was mated out and left.

I didn’t realize this was her place, but it makes sense. I remember the greenhouse; it was always filled with rows of vibrant flowers. The pack mostly ignored it because, as it turns out, wolves don’t really use florists much. Something about the scents being too cloying.

I frown at the building, at its broken windows and faded sign. Kids from the pack used to dare each other to spend the night here. It’s commonly considered to be haunted by the younger pack members, though of course I’m an adult who doesn’t believe in such superstitions anymore.

Not much, anyway.

But then again, things have changed since I ran away, and my worldview has... widened.

"Is it really okay for us to stay here?" I unbuckle my seatbelt and glance at Andrew.

He nods, already reaching for the door. "The Lycans have already settled it."

The Lycans. Not "Caine" or even "your mate." It feels like a subtle distancing, but I could just be reading too much into it.

better than being in

as we entered the city limits with a new mission—to present myself to the Guardian for assignment, or

Bun’s hand as she takes in the dilapidated structure, her red

dinner to a pack of ghosts. Bun, on the other hand, just

reach out to smooth Sara’s hair, my touch

has enough space to park, plus we can hook up

rundown before leaving. I hadn’t even considered where to park Lyre’s camper once we got here,

the main lodge. Which means Caine

won’t be any midnight run-ins. Which is probably for the best, but makes my heart feel a little itchy for

aside, at least Rafe will be even farther, since he’s taken over the Alpha lodge. Which means Ellie will have to come all the way

Andrew frowns in their direction. It takes me only a minute to realize the Lycan King is being way too helpful for someone he

back, and he’s over here playing Boyfriend,

to the men as he

then soften my tone. "I mean, we need to keep a low profile. We can play games in the camper, and maybe explore a tiny bit of the surroundings, but we should

pack will treat these kids, and Andrew seems to understand my reasoning because he nods immediately. "Don’t worry, guys.

at the dilapidated structure in front of us, mumbles, "I feel like the

Then she shivers dramatically.

also shivers dramatically, scrunching up her

who keeps eyeing the shuttered building like it might grow fangs and

jumps, her red eyes widening.

that exactly the opposite of what I just

my temple, I clarify, "No.

would you bring up it being haunted

with no real way to explain through her

from where he’s now helping Caine unload something from

the word falling

just blinks back at me with a completely oblivious expression. He didn’t hear Bun—which isn’t surprising given how quietly she

you,

face in her hands, assuming I can’t see

clearly not grasping what he’s done wrong, while the toddler peeks through her fingers to gauge if I’m still looking. I am, but I

the one in trouble. She’s

to regain some semblance of

Caine, doing... something. I’m not sure it’s a task we actually need done, but at least

of a teenager twice her age—so, basically... me, I guess? Hm. That’s a