Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 195: Grace: Buzzles

Out of nowhere, Caine was suddenly in a downright awful mood and wouldn’t stop glowering at his Lycan friends. But at least he finally left, even if he did basically stomp out of here with a dark cloud hanging over him.

I stand in the doorway watching them go, my feelings a jumbled mess of relief and something that feels suspiciously like abandonment. The camper seems emptier without his overwhelming presence filling every corner. Quieter.

Lonelier.

My eyes follow Caine’s broad shoulders as he marches away with his men, his entire body rigid and his fists clenched at his sides. Even from here, I can feel the waves of anger radiating off him.

Suddenly, he stops, spins on his heel, and strides back to me with purpose in every step.

I stiffen.

Did he notice how I felt?

My heart jumps into my throat as he looms in front of me, one step below where I’m standing. Close enough I could reach out and brush my fingertips against his long, silky eyelashes, with the perfect amount of curl mine require tools to replicate.

"Don’t worry about what they said," he murmurs, his voice pitched low so only I can hear.

I blink down at him, mouth opening to explain that his terrible acting is what I’m worried about—but he’s already gone, stalking back the way he came.

His shoulders look even more tense than before, if that’s possible.

I rub my face with my palm and sigh. This is going to be a lot harder than I thought. Caine playing the role of "not my mate" looks an awful lot like Caine is my mate and going to murder people if they hurt my feelings.

Not exactly subtle.

A few yards away, several Blue Mountain wolves linger, watching everything unfold. Their faces carry familiar expressions, the kind weighing me down year after year. I didn’t realize how oppressive they all were until I’d left.

Smug superiority. Disgust. Disdain.

But for once, those looks don’t make my stomach twist with shame.

One of them—a shifter I vaguely recognize but can’t name—catches my eye deliberately. His lip curls in a sneer, and he spits on the ground, giving me a smirk before sauntering away.

My terrible, plummeting mood rises immediately.

It worked. Our terrible acting job actually worked.

Fighting the smile threatening to curve my lips, I step back inside and close the door, watching as more Blue Mountain shifters stare with smug, awful faces in our direction.

They’d started out curious and now look down on me. They’d never do that if they were scared of the Lycan King’s reaction.

Caine’s inexplicable bad mood out of nowhere saved the day.

The brief victory is great, even as it feels hollow. I know what comes next—the insults will get bolder, the "accidental" shouldering in hallways harder, the whispered comments louder. They’ll push until they find my breaking point, and I’m not exactly looking forward to living under this pressure again.

be fine. I’ve survived this treatment my entire life. I can handle it again,

won’t be

over, I’ll be hundreds of miles away again, living my best life away from the oppression of the Blue Mountain

moment

practically vibrating with indignation. "Aren’t you the Queen? Why’s he acting like

ears sprout out of her hair today. We’ll have to keep her

to one set of ears, it would be easier to explain away. But we don’t need rumors of her ears going from cats to

starting to feel

eyes are trained on me with varying

I say, forcing my voice to steady. "That was

Sara says, crossing her skinny arms over

his voice rising to ear-piercing decibel. "Which is totally crazy because we just met him! Now I

Ron just looks curious.

Without breaking eye contact, Sara pulls her off the table and sets her

and I are pretending we’re not together, and he’s pretending you’re his children, not

"So you’re our mom?"

idiot." Jer gives Sara a disgusted look. "She said we’re

mom? Ron,

a faint smile twitching at his lips. "It’s

not—" I start, but Sara beats

just said she’s not our

Grace is definitely the

chimes in, "Yeah, she’s not Mom. She

his head. "You two

what about Owen?" Jer challenges. "Maybe he’s the

the mom, Jeridiot." Ron bares his teeth. "He’s a

think Jer’s right.

this pack doesn’t need to know anything

sentence. It feels awkward and convoluted even as it

nodding in unison. Sara and Jer both

face scrunches. "But why is

here don’t like humans very much. They

human?" Sara asks, something flickering in her

nod. "I grew up here. They never really

stupid," Jer declares, his loyalty heart-warming. "You’re better than all of

My throat tightens. "Thanks."

be lifted. I scoop her up, grateful for the distraction. Her weight is solid and

she says clearly, patting my cheek

We’re

she insists, more forcefully this

think she thinks you’re