Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 200

Chapter 200: Grace: Furnado

Each breath is little more than a desperate gasp as I vault over another fence. This new speed still feels alien in my body—like someone downloaded parkour skills directly into my muscles while I wasn’t looking.

I leap from a shed roof to a fence top, my mental map of the Blue Mountain territory flickering like a half-remembered dream. No time to check my phone. No time to slow down.

Can’t hear Ellie and her goons anymore, but that means nothing. Wolves move silent as shadows when they want to. And they definitely want to right now.

Where the fuck am I supposed to go?

Back to the camper means leading Ellie straight to the kids. The image of her near Bun makes my stomach twist into knots. And the alpha lodge is too far—Caine might be there, but I’d never make it without getting caught.

And, considering how our relationship telepathy is going, who knows the consequences of going there. Though it’s better than dying.

I spot the camper through a gap between houses, painfully close. I veer right instead, away from the children.

Better me than them.

One more fence. I gather momentum, pushing off from a garden planter, and launch myself over—

"OOF!"

My body slams into something solid. Someone solid. Arms and legs tangle as we tumble, sharp pain shooting through my hip and leg as we roll. When we stop, I’m straddling a body, my hands pressed against a familiar back.

"What the fuck?" Andrew groans beneath me, his face half-buried in dirt.

"Shit! Sorry." I scramble off him, my hip throbbing where it collided with his shoulder blade, or something else pointy and hard. "I didn’t see you!"

out a mouthful of dirt. "Since when

Whatever I look like, it

I nod.

His face twists into annoyance as

Hah.

can

as he pulls out his phone. When

toward the camper. Even in this moment, I’m not entirely sure how far I

victim can’t exactly

word feeling inadequate paired with my long-held suspicion of his

even looking at me and completely unaware of the guilt scrawled

phone. Time to cross my fingers he can actually handle Ellie and her pack of loyal attack dogs. He is Rafe’s

Well.

change when mates are involved. Especially mates who’ve become

through me but fading. Every step

I can hear Sadie’s muffled frenzy of

steps. A quick yank of the door shows it’s locked, which is a good

on it with a closed fist.

worried face, Bun balanced on his hip. Her eyes are wide, three fingers shoved into

"Grace, what’s—"

furry missiles launch

slips between my legs like a snake, while Sadie slams against my knees with enough force to nearly

me, their bodies aimed like arrows in the direction I just came from. The cat’s back arches, fur standing on end as it hisses,

Huh.

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