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.

there would be so much better than being in reach of this pack again, and I’m already second-guessing my request to keep my identity as Caine’s

almost as soon as we entered the city limits with a new mission—to present myself to the

her red eyes wide and uncertain. "Are we living

pack of ghosts. Bun, on the other

hair, my touch gentle as

enough space to park, plus we can hook up to water

even considered where to park Lyre’s camper once we got here, so his

the main lodge. Which means Caine won’t be

is probably for the best,

Which means Ellie will have to come all the way here to

as I take in our new temporary home. Ron and Caine are already getting things put together, and Andrew frowns in their direction. It takes me only a minute to realize the Lycan King is being way too helpful for

should be little more than a nuisance he brought back, and he’s over here

to the men as he

We can play games in the camper, and maybe explore a tiny bit of the surroundings, but we should stay inside

entirely certain how the pack will treat these kids, and Andrew seems to understand my reasoning because he nods immediately. "Don’t worry, guys. It’s going to be hectic today and maybe tomorrow, but after that we should be able to go on a

in front of us,

Then she shivers dramatically.

shivers dramatically, scrunching up her

eyeing the shuttered building like it might grow fangs and eat

her red eyes widening. "So it is

exactly the opposite of what I

my temple, I clarify, "No. I said it

why would you bring up it being

face leaves me with no

are no ghosts," Jer shouts from where he’s now helping Caine unload something from the back of the truck. His voice carries across the yard with the special volume only unhelpful

the word falling from her lips with p-e-r-f-e-c-t

whiplash. I glare at Jer, who just blinks back

of you,

realize she said something she shouldn’t and hides her face

driveway, clearly not grasping what he’s done wrong, while the toddler peeks through her fingers to

the one in trouble. She’s just mimicking what

grab your things out of Andrew’s car," I say, trying to regain some semblance of

wasted breath. Jer’s glued to Caine, doing... something. I’m not sure it’s a task we

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