Grace of a Wolf (by Lenaleia) novel Chapter 126

Chapter 126: Grace: Waking to Chaos (I)

Sharp, digital beeps wake me out of what feels like a molasses-like sea of sleep.

My eyes are too heavy to pry open, but I manage anyway.

I’m not in the camper.

Panic is immediate, freezing every muscle. It was already hard to move, and now it’s impossible.

Two feet, clad in black flip-flops and wearing an anklet with a bell, chiming sweetly with every step, pace toward me. They’re men’s feet, making the anklet seem so much more out of place. It’s on a delicate golden chain, and I wonder how it doesn’t snap every time he walks.

“Oh, dear. You aren’t supposed to be here.”

His voice slides over me, soft like silk and dripping with the sweetness of honey, but with the faint, smokey sound of a man trying to seduce you in the dark.

I’m already on guard.

The casual amusement in his tone wraps around me with unsettling familiarity, as if we’re old friends reuniting after a brief separation. Far too intimate.

I try to sit up, pushing against whatever invisible force pins me down. My muscles strain against nothing and everything at once. The effort makes my vision swim, black spots dancing.

And then the world… glitches.

The floor beneath me shifts from cool marble to an infinite expanse of stars, then to absolutely nothing at all—vanishing and reforming with each desperate blink. My stomach lurches.

I’m seasick, and reality’s fracturing.

He crouches beside me, and I try to focus on his face and not his feet floating above… nothing.

Big mistake.

His features refuse to settle. Too symmetrical one moment, then subtly wrong the next. His eyes cycle through impossible colors—violet blending into gold, then abyssal black, then something which isn’t a color at all, but more of an impression of chaos.

His skin tone shifts with each blink, his hair growing and shortening and changing texture constantly. Beautiful, but the kind where my brain hurts just trying to perceive it. An optical illusion, cranked to the max.

“You’re causing quite the stir, you know.” He tilts his head, and the movement leaves tracers in my vision. “The Order is watching your every move. Balance is ready to intervene. And Chaos?”

He leans closer, his breath cool against my face. Long fingers tilt my chin up, and his lips hover dangerously near mine—not quite touching, but close enough for it to feel so very wrong.

“Chaos really likes you…”

Something flickers deep in my chest, a spark of heat spreading outward in a sudden rush. And inside the heat, something else responds—not me, but something within me. It snarls, the sound reverberating through my bones without making a sound anyone can hear.

He laughs, his face full of delight as he watches me. “Fated wolves are always so prissy.”

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