Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 218: Grace: A Normal Mentor Would Be Nice

Caeriel’s face is too close, blocking most of my view. But then he steps back with a faint smile. "You’re frightened."

"I’m not," I lie to him again, realizing belatedly he might be able to smell it. Hopefully he can’t.

Either way, our encounters are not going very well.

Was it too much to ask for a normal mentor, and not someone I’m pretty sure is a psychopath? Actually, if I really want to get into it, why is everyone around me so damn weird? My own boyfriend is definitely not normal in his head, either.

Though... less terrible than I thought he was.

Which, I’m pretty sure, is not the case for Captain Grim Reaper over here.

"They’re giving their reports."

"Reports?" I stiffen immediately. "I knew it. They’re not normal animals!"

Vindication floods through my veins, sweet and sharp. See? I knew Sadie was weird. And the cat, too. Yet another situation in which my paranoia wasn’t paranoia, because it isn’t paranoia if it’s true.

Caeriel’s mouth stays curved, but his amusement feels very at my expense. "Of course not. What normal animals would dare to stay by the Lycan King?"

Hah, hah. What might be normal for him isn’t normal for me, thank you very much. I’m still adjusting to this super-supernatural world. Extrasupernatural, I guess. Though the word kind of makes me think of extraterrestrial, and they aren’t aliens.

Are they?

He looks me over, his gaze sliding from my face to my feet and back again. The tiny crease between his eyebrows deepens into a frown that makes my skin crawl.

"Still not answering? Your intellect doesn’t seem very high." His voice drops, becoming softer, almost intimate, even as his words come out cruel. "I can’t fathom what Lyrielle sees in you."

Why’s he suddenly insulting me?

Oh—the question. Right. I got sidetracked with the animals.

I’m far more interested in my own issues,

say giving their

with a dismissive flick

End of story.

detail, which is frustrating. The answers are literally standing in front of me, but he’s too much of a jerk to give them. Lyre might be cryptic, but at least she

a demi-god be found here?" His eyes bore into mine,

the machines too loud. I deflate a little, despite the defiance in my thoughts. Ultimately,

those times I mouthed off to

as scared

my head

told you, I

He over-enunciates each word as if speaking to a toddler. "Knowing this is a demi-god’s blood, would you consider this

burn. Exactly how little respect does he have for me? I’m not stupid—I just don’t have access to whatever cosmic encyclopedia of supernatural facts he’s

up a couple moments with Lyre where she also... no, let’s not go there; if I

avoid saying it through gritted teeth to show how insulting

eyebrows rise a fraction. "Ah, so

was." The word comes out tight. I wasn’t questioning the importance of demi-god blood, but rather how freaking easy this so-called ’mission’

in the gesture as he explains, "I rarely have a chance to work with mortals, and I have to

curl my fingers into my palms, pressing my nails into my skin. It’s official. I’m

struggling to keep my voice steady. "I’m not an idiot. I just don’t have the context for any of this. Demi-gods,

highlight the limits of your reasoning, Miss

My molars grind together.

why would this blood

already forgetting how I decided I was too scared to mouth off to him. Amazing how much self-esteem returns when his silver eyes

bored as he says, "Is that your best

it’s found, something bad

consider that your best

roll in the safety of him not being able to see.

or less? Be precise, Miss

voice, and my ears are attuned to it like any rebellious teenager