Grace of a Wolf (by Lenaleia) novel Chapter 137

Chapter 137: Caine: Fraying

CAINE

The storm’s wandered off, calming the air. But not me.

My skin doesn’t fit. My muscles twitch with excess energy. I pace the narrow confines of Lyre’s camper like something caged, each circuit bringing me closer to Grace, then forcing myself away.

Fenris is still outside. The blessing of the Lycan King—to have my wolf as a distinct entity. Right now, it feels like a curse. Double the chaos, double the pressure building with nowhere to go.

You need to settle, Fenris growls through our bond. The pups can sense your distress. You’re leaking it out.

I ignore him. Grace had pushed me away earlier, hands firm against my chest, eyes wild with panic. Smart girl. I understand why—the logical part of my brain even agrees with her caution—but the primal core of me seethes with rejection.

Her scent fills the confined space. Blueberry muffins, warm and sweet. It used to calm me. Now it agitates, hooks into something dark and hungry, demanding satisfaction.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Grace asks from behind me, her voice soft.

I close my eyes. “Fine.”

But I’m not. And she knows it.

Grace leans over the dinette table, gazing out the window where the children are playing under Fenris’s watchful eye. The now-bright skies highlight her face, the cascade of her artificially golden hair. She is soft, human, and thankfully oblivious to the war raging inside me.

Something’s wrong

, Fenris says, agitation rushing his words. I feel out of control.

Me, too. Keep the kids outside, I snap. If they come in here… I don’t want to scare them again.

He huffs. Then, Don’t touch her.

“I know,” I hiss. The words are anathema on my tongue, against every desire crashing through my body.

But I can’t walk away. Can’t leave her.

Can’t stay.

If you don’t get it together, I’m going to lose it too, Fenris warns. The young ones don’t need to see that.

I drag in a breath through my mouth, trying to center myself. But her scent permeates everything, amplifying with each heartbeat. It fills my lungs, curls through my blood.

Need, not peace.

I dig my fingers into my palms, tensing my body against the onslaught within.

Grace laughs suddenly, the sound light and musical. She turns to me, eyes bright with delight. “Did you see that? Bun—”

I snap.

My hand catches her arm, and I pull her in—too fast, too hard, but it doesn’t matter, because her soft, perfect little body is finally flush against mine. Her breath hitches, her words lost as my mouth crashes into hers.

The kiss is brutal. Hungry. A mistake. But the second our lips touch, everything inside me goes quiet.

Blessed stillness.

My hands slip to her hips, gripping tight—tight enough that a normal woman would bruise. But Grace just exhales against my mouth, her body stiff for half a second before she melts.

Her fingers find my hair. Her lips open under mine. She kisses me back, just as desperate, just as fucking gone under this damn temptation of our bond.

I groan into her mouth. I need her. Need all of her. To pin her, mark her, bury myself in her until the storm in me has nowhere left to go.

You’re scaring her, Fenris snaps.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify