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.

as they leave the kids alone, it’ll be fine. I’ve survived this

be

be hundreds of miles away again, living my best life away from the oppression of the

that?" Sara asks the moment the door clicks shut, her red eyes

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

gleefully, bouncing on her pudgy legs. Thankfully, no ears sprout out of her hair today. We’ll have to keep her

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

I snap automatically. It’s starting to feel like second

I look up, three pairs of eyes are trained on me with varying degrees of bewilderment. Even

say, forcing my voice to steady. "That was

you’re not his mate," Sara says, crossing her skinny arms over her chest. "But that’s not true.

kids," Jer adds, his voice rising to ear-piercing decibel. "Which is totally crazy because we

Ron just looks curious.

she’s trying to catch it. Without breaking eye contact, Sara pulls her off the table and sets her

a hand through my hair. "Look, it’s... We’re pretending, okay? Caine and I are pretending we’re

"So you’re our mom?"

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

who’s our mom?

faint smile twitching at his lips.

I start, but Sara

just said she’s not our

Grace

in, "Yeah, she’s not Mom.

"You two are the idiots. She’s definitely the

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

be the mom, Jeridiot." Ron

thoughtful. "I think Jer’s right. Owen’s

is this pack doesn’t need to know anything about us and Caine, okay? If they

sentence. It feels awkward and convoluted even as it

seem to understand, all nodding in unison. Sara and Jer both look very

scrunches. "But why is

off-script for that one. "Because the people here don’t like humans very much. They especially don’t like me. But they’re afraid of Caine. If they think you’re his,

like you because you’re human?" Sara asks, something flickering in her red

"I grew up here. They never

his loyalty heart-warming. "You’re

My throat tightens. "Thanks."

demanding to be lifted. I scoop her up, grateful for the distraction.

my cheek with her chubby

We’re just

insists, more forcefully this

"I think she