Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 211: Grace: Ron’s Not Like the Others

Caine and the Lycan both look a little too smug when they look in my direction, leaving me feeling a little uneasy, like I’m missing something. But the feeling’s not nearly as strong as the shock from watching Fenris take a bite out of someone’s shoulder.

Ron’s finger taps against the back of my hands, where I’ve plastered them over his eyes to save his innocent teenage soul.

"Can I look yet?"

I stare at the now-conscious Lycan’s mangled shoulder. Blood flows freely from the bite wound, and yet both men are standing there like it never even happened. He’s even smiling.

"You should probably just go inside," I tell Ron uncertainly. New to parenting or not, even I know children shouldn’t be exposed to this level of violence. I very clearly remember my dad covering my eyes and my mom covering my ears during certain parts of superhero movies at the tender age of six, and those were the ones made for kids.

He snorts. "I can assure you, I’ve seen worse."

And he probably has. It does give me a little pause, but I defend his innocence to the death with a faint, "That’s not the point."

"Actually, it kind of is," Ron argues, then wraps his fingers around my wrist and pulls my hand down by force. He’s stronger than I expected him to be, leaving me a little nonplussed.

The Lycan only catches his interest for a second. "Oh, it’s not even that bad."

I stare at him in disbelief, then back at the wound where Fenris’s teeth tore through muscle. "Don’t make it sound so normal," I say, feeling queasy as another pulse of blood oozes down.

Ron looks at me and snorts again. "Welcome to shifter life, Grace. Are you sure you were raised in a pack?"

"Yes!" My attention successfully diverted, I fight the childish urge to stomp my feet. It won’t help me gain some sort of parental authority in his eyes. "I lived here for six years, under the previous Alpha."

"Was it peaceful?"

"Very." Old, instinctive pride has me prattling on, "Alpha had complete control over the pack and a great rapport with the neighboring packs. It was rare for us to even have an issue with rogues..."

But my voice trails off as I realize I’m still speaking like Alpha’s proud daughter, without even thinking about it. My tongue twists like it would from eating sour candy and I grimace.

But the teenager doesn’t seem to notice as he says, "Oh, they must all be weak, then."

I blink. "How is that so?"

"There’s no such thing as a strong wolf pack without violence. Even I know that."

The way he talks, so matter-of-fact, makes my skin crawl a little. "What do you mean?"

"Um. Having a strong leader raises strong wolves. We’re all attracted to a strong alpha, which means we grow up stronger ourselves. Didn’t you know a strong alpha’s leadership causes more alphas to be born?"

I blink. "No. Isn’t it completely from bloodline?"

bloodline and twenty-five percent alpha. It’s why rogues almost never birth alphas,

because they’re...

it’s because

not sure if I should believe him or not. On one hand, he’s even younger than I am. On the other, he’s literally grown up as a shifter, so he would know. "That’s not what they

would they teach a weaker pack they’re weak? He was probably hiding it to seem like

area and had good leadership. But I don’t really know details beyond that.

ex is the the new alpha of this pack, it means he was the

"Right."

you didn’t see violence is because no one was strong enough to challenge anyone. Alphas fight a lot. Alpha challenges happen all the time when young alphas

As in, not in

"Yeah, so?"

do you

his

Me, apparently.

wolves were uneducated wolves. Did Fiddleback have a lot of

one lived long enough to

Oh.

at the dark turn our conversation’s taken. Try saving

I get it. This level of

forward with a strange gleam in his eye.

it is, even if it’s starting to feel a little... spoonfed, compared to what Ron’s

turns thoughtful, but I have no idea

know he isn’t around; his hatred toward me isn’t the kind of thing to subside so

packs and led a large faction. While we usually prioritize a more physical strength, Brax had his own talents to make up for his lack of physical strength. It’s how

shocking to hear anything even mildly complimentary toward Brax coming out of the mouth of the man who killed him, but the rest of it kind

continues, his gray eyes

look between them. The subtext isn’t even subtext—it’s practically written in neon. "Are you trying to say Ron should challenge and take over one of

He should be worrying about normal teenage things,

both ignore

asks Caine, his voice steady but excitement visible in his shining, dark eyes. His hands keep clenching and unclenching, and

still calm in the face of adolescent exuberance, "As long as you train for it. You can follow me to learn if you’re

"Hell yeah, I am."

about being an alpha? About leading? I look between them, feeling

you think he’s a little

flicks to me, then back to Ron. "In five years he’ll be the perfect age

too selfish. Of course I do. But this feels too fast, too

my shoulder, his expression unexpectedly serious. "Don’t worry. I’ll