Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 202: Grace: Intruder Alert

The knock comes again and Sadie launches into another frantic round of guard-barking, making my already pounding head throb harder.

Holding the frying pan up sounds easy, but it doesn’t take long for the weight to start wearing on my wrist. It’s an eye-opening example of precisely how weak I am.

"Grace? Grace Harper?" The voice outside carries a rough edge of irritation now. It’s male, deep, and both generic and vaguely familiar.

But vaguely familiar could mean anyone; I don’t recognize every Blue Mountain pack voice. Just the ones I run into all the time.

I grip the skillet tighter, my knuckles aching and arms trembling. Partly from exhaustion, partly from the rush of adrenaline still making its way through my system, and a lot because what the fuck, I am so sick of this insanity and how I don’t get a chance to sit down and relax.

Seriously. Is a movie night too much to ask for?

Maybe lunch outside in a cool breeze?

But no, I don’t get family movies or pretty picnic lunches. I get chased through my old pack lands and strangers knocking on my camper door.

"Aren’t you gonna answer it?" Jer asks curiously, still watching me from his spot on the dinette bench.

Sara delivers a swift elbow to his ribs, making him yelp. "Read the room!" she whispers fiercely. "She’s going to kill him with the frying pan."

Her little brother rubs at his chest, looking thoroughly offended and also unimpressed. "Yeah, well, it isn’t Rapunzel’s frying pan, so I don’t think it’s going to work."

"It isn’t a special

frying pan, you dingus."

"If you want to get specific, it’s cast iron. Cast iron is heavy. Whatever Grace is using is just those cheap nonstick pans you get for like, ten dollars."

Reasonable Ron strikes again, but somehow he’s more irritating than the other two.

"Shut up," I hiss, waving the pan in a frantic shooing motion toward the living room area. "All of you, get back. Now."

Is it appropriate to tell children to shut up? Pretty sure it isn’t.

and I think I’ve already broken, like,

Bun stares at me from over

"But—" Jer starts.

serious tone I’ve learned makes even

it

works as well, because they retreat with obvious reluctance, shooting glances over their shoulders as

the urgency seems different than when

at the door continues, his irritation

I make it to the window. My legs still feel like jelly and I keep smacking

I peek out the side of the

eyebrows rocket toward my

Not just any Lycan—one of the ones who was

awkwardness washes over me. I let the blinds fall back

Grace. Open

gave him permission to use my first name? We’re strangers. He should at least call

the blinds and

of a solid eighteen, but give me a break, here. I’m running on

don’t open the door,

the frying

mad earlier when Caine claimed the children,

if he doesn’t like

I’m going to break down this door," he snaps. "Open the fucking door,

been demoted from a presumptive use of my first name to

goes around calling people human? I feel like I should be offended, but

me. "Does he think he’s some sort

Sara and I say at the

have one minute to open this door, or I’m breaking

head throbs even

supers don’t like humans very much,"