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!"

when

Whatever I look like, it sobers

I nod.

chatter across the pack link, but..." His face twists into annoyance as he looks in the direction

Hah.

can

dark as he pulls out his phone. When I don’t move, he looks at me again with impatience.

Andrew back toward the camper. Even in this moment, I’m not entirely

a desperate victim can’t

out between pants, the word feeling inadequate paired with my long-held

not even looking at me and completely

determined expression as he pulls out his phone. Time to cross my fingers

Well.

involved. Especially mates who’ve become Luna to the

but fading. Every step is slower than the last, my muscles

hear Sadie’s muffled frenzy of

A quick yank of the door shows it’s locked, which is

pound on it with a closed fist. "Open

Bun balanced on his hip. Her eyes

"Grace, what’s—"

because two furry missiles launch themselves out the door before

between my legs like a snake, while Sadie slams against

back arches, fur standing on end as it hisses, a sound so vicious it seems impossible from its elegant form. Sadie’s barks turn deeper, more threatening

Huh.

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