Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 220: Grace: Princess

In the end, the rest of the day passes without further incident.

No clarifying update appears on my phone, either, leaving me exasperated. And Caeriel hasn’t answered any of the ten messages I’ve sent his way, asking for an explanation on the gibberish he calls a new mission.

He wants me to do it quickly, but how can I do it without any information at all?!

The App is as cryptic as he is!

But now we have clean laundry, and Super Nanny—whose name, I remember now, is Randy-not-Randall—is not only fantastic with the children, but even conjured a savory and aromatic beef stew out of nowhere, making it so I don’t even have to worry about dinner.

After peacefully restocking dressers and showering the children, Super Nanny even has the kitchen cleaned and dishes done. Dylan, meanwhile, has cleaned the litter box every time the cat uses it, and takes Sadie out every thirty minutes to run around in the grass. He’s even thoughtfully picked up her little chocolate doggy bomb out of the yard from this morning.

It’s all so very peaceful, so very peaceful...

And it makes my skin crawl.

Every time I pick up anything weighing more than a piece of paper, there’s a Lycan there to grab it from me and offer their help. Randy doesn’t seem to have the slightest hint of an ulterior motive whatsoever, just perfectly content to play babysitter while I sit around and watch him do it.

Dylan, on the other hand, is very clearly judgmental of every move I make, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t exactly like me. But he treats me well and hasn’t slipped once in his treatment of me.

Andrew, on the other hand... no idea what he’s doing. They wouldn’t let him in.

But since this is his pack and territory, I’m pretty sure he’s fine. Maybe.

Even if there is a niggling sense of doubt and worry making its way into my head, along with a healthy heaping of reluctant responsibility. After all, the man said he basically gave up his pack to be my friend; only a complete dick wouldn’t feel a little guilty after hearing that.

By ten, my brain is in shambles and Bun’s turned into a couch-hopping banshee with bunny ears and a golden retriever’s tail. Dylan and Randy haven’t even blinked at her odd shifting, and Sara and Jer are comfortable enough to be their normal selves in front of them.

Jer even managed to get the more reticent Dylan into an entire conversation about how pterodactyls and crocodiles are basically, in a weird way, cousins. I’m not entirely certain I believe him, but the kid’s so convincing I kind of think he might be right, too.

If he’s not, then he probably has a great future as a car salesman.

I gnaw on a piece of beef jerky—something Dylan brought, not the kind in packages we bought at Walmart—as my mind bounces around all these things taking up prime anxiety real estate.

Well... not the pterodactyls or crocodiles. But the rest, yes.

Though watching Bun—all rabbit ears, golden retriever tail, and pure manic toddler energy—temporarily pushes everything else aside.

"One!" she shrieks, leaping from the left cushion.

"Two!" she announces proudly, landing on the right.

Is it just me, or is her speech improving at an unusual rate? I need a parenting book.

and shouts has almost lulled me into a meditative state when the door swings open with

again, even though logically I know it’s impossible because we locked

is flushed, his eyes bright with inner fire. He even looks an

idea where he got it. Caine, obviously, but still—where?! I used to live here, and we

I guess he already knew they were here. Makes sense, if he

my aloof teenage boy and why did a young man

Bun screams, abandoning her cushion game instantly with her arms

and scoops her up in one fluid motion, swinging her high as

Sara converge on him like excited puppies, practically bouncing off

fight anyone?" the younger boy demands, eyes wide

cuts in, not waiting for an answer to

into a weird expression. I can feel my mouth smiling, but I know my eyebrows are twitching like crazy. "Why would they howl at

I almost feel offended. "Duh, they’re wolves, Grace. Wolves howl at

Oh, silly me.

my eyes back, but she tosses her head back to Ron. "Well?

"No, and

a prince now?" Jer asks, grabbing Ron’s sleeve and tugging. "Because Caine’s like a king, right? So that makes you a

"Uh—"

eyes

other arm, shaking it urgently. "I need to know, Ron. This is important for my future. Am I a

his eyes, but there’s no hiding the smile tugging at his mouth. "No, squirt. That’s not how

does it work?" she demands, unwilling to

structure of Lycan society to us!" He pronounces ’political structure’

hip, where she immediately grabs a fistful of his hair

counters, hands on her

you need a blood transfusion

Her forehead wrinkles.

Lycan blood, stupid." Ron flicks her forehead with a smile, taking some of the sting out of

she flings his arm away

lack of princess title, and I bite back a laugh as I get off the couch and guide Ron out of the hall and into the living room proper, though I level a disappointed glance at

was under the impression Caine would come

seems determined to stick to the script,

then shake it off to focus on the person I haven’t seen all day. "How was it, really? You seem like

was..." He pauses, searching for words.

good or different

important, I guess?

his shoulder, and he winces. "Ouch,

mocks, shaking a finger in his face like he’s the

twitch as he attacks her face with kisses, making her squeal. Then he gives