Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 207

Chapter 207: Grace: Tolerate

My command, unsurprisingly, falls on deaf ears.

Rafe lunges forward, completely ignoring how hard I’m trying to shove him away, even with every ounce of strength I can muster. My skin crawls where it contacts his chest.

He moves—forward, though. Not backward.

Inexorable and manic, his eyes darting all over my face.

"I’ll allow that slap, and even this—" his voice drops low, his familiar voice now unfamiliar and nauseating, "—just this once, Grace. I understand you’re angry with me. I’m letting you vent. But I won’t tolerate it in the future."

Won’t tolerate it.

The words echo, bouncing around my head like a toxic cannon ball.

Won’t tolerate it.

As if he has any right to tolerate or not tolerate anything I do.

To Rafe, I’m a silly girl throwing a tantrum, not the wronged woman he cheated on.

What a scumbag.

My mouth goes dry. I stare at him—really stare—and wonder how I ever looked at this man and saw someone worth loving. His perfectly symmetrical face, those blue eyes I used to craft embarrassing mental poetry over, and the now-greasy golden hair I used to run my fingers through.

All of it makes my stomach churn.

It’s like Prince Raphael of my memory turned around, grew up, started smoking, and became a sleaze.

"Are you even hearing yourself?" The words come out faint, because it’s honestly hard to even believe the level of delusion this man’s operating under. My first impression, of him being some drug-addled nitwit from a TV show, slithers back into my head. Seriously, is he on drugs?

Then again, I don’t think any drugs work on werewolves.

Behind me, Ron’s barely holding himself back, the air practically vibrating with his frustration.

And the kids are watching all of this unfold.

I can’t let this keep going.

Won’t tolerate it,he said.

What a fucking dick.

bile in

good enough for this pack. For Brax, who held the highest position. I didn’t want to shame the man I considered my stepfather; didn’t want to shame the boy

twisted myself into mental and emotional

pie is bitter

somewhere dark inside me, and it sounds happy. Too happy. So happy it’s

the hard lines of his face. Then he smiles beatifically, his head tilting as

I’m

What an idiot.

stomach twists violently, revulsion crawling across my skin like a million

wolf-bright gleam of victory. His

so familiar, as his hands reach

movement gives me the perfect opening. I bring my knee up hard between his legs, putting every ounce of my body weight behind it. At the same instant, I slam both palms against his chest

eyes bulge, face contorting in

balls are as tender

the top step, and suddenly he’s tumbling, arms windmilling as he falls off the RV steps to the ground below, like a scene from a cheap

my lips as I stand

and apologize to her for being such a

you, Grace?" Even though every word comes out through gritted teeth as he rolls and writhes against the ground, it isn’t hard to

my eyes; I can’t help it. The drama he’s

me. You can’t take no for an answer and you don’t know when you’ve overstayed your welcome. You honestly

he hisses out a breath and grinds out the rest of the sentence in

takes a few seconds to unravel

grabs at my arm and pulls me out of the doorway. "Don’t argue with him, Grace. Some

hands absently against the sides of my legs.

"Grace—!"

teenager in front of me no longer looks like a child as he glares down at Rafe, completely oblivious to the power the other man holds in this pack. Or maybe he

My lips twitch.

to talk like

at me as

No wonder.

to specify. Which I don’t. But

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