Grace of a Wolf (by Lenaleia) novel Chapter 141

(141 Caine Brat vs Brot

141 Caine: Brat vs Brot

CAINE

“We’re firing up the grill tonight, the old woman says, patting her husband’s arm affectionately. “Got some ribs marinating ee this morning. You folks should join us!”

Grace stutters beside me, her cheeks flushing as her eyes dart from me to our new, extra–friendly neighbors. “Oh, that’s-”

“Is there gonna be BRAT–worsts?” Jer interrupts, bouncing on his toes with a manic energy that makes me wonder if he’s capable of standing still for longer than three seconds.

Grace whispers, “It’s brot–not brat.”

The kid crosses his arms, defiant as he frowns at Grace. He has spunk, but he’s going to need to learn not to cross a Luna so

easily. “I like bratwurst.”

“You should at least say the word right, Sara mutters, conveniently placing Jer between her and Fenris. She probably doesn’t think anyone notices, but I do.

Most parents would probably be displeased at the idea one of their children would willingly sacrifice the other, but my lips quirk. A little sibling rivalry goes a long way to character development. It isn’t as if Fenris would hurt the children, but if he were truly an unstable wolf, it would be a lesson well–learned for the younger boy. Never ignore the unstable wolf beside you.

Ron clears his throat, scratching at his head as he says, “Oh, we don’t like to impose.”

He acts too old for his age, and I frown. He could do with a few pups his age. It’s time. for him to get into a little trouble and learn his own way, not spend his time watching

over

the children. Jack–Eye has a large family; I’m sure he has a nephew or cousin to take Ron in.

“Right, right!” Grace adds quickly, nodding too enthusiastically. “We wouldn’t want to impose.”

The old man waves a weathered hand. “Nonsense! We love company.

Jer’s eyes light up again. “Are we gonna stick the brats on sticks? Over fire?”

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141 Caine: Brat vs Brot

“Brots,” Sara hisses, smacking him in the shoulder. Then she freezes and looks at Fenris.

I chuckle, and she jumps a little, slowly turning around to peek in my direction. She looks worried, and I smile at her.

Somehow, it makes it all worse, and she dashes over to Ron’s side, clinging to his hand.

The old man laughs at Jer, a full–bellied sound of a kind and gentle soul. “Sure thing. boy!”

Grace’s smile strains as she shoots me a sideways glance. Her cheeks are flushed red from the commotion, and the slightly sour scent of anxiety rolls off her in waves thick enough to taste.

Bun reaches for her, but I shift her to my other side, patting her diapered behind again. She grunts and settles into her thumb–sucking with extra ferocity, looking particularly

grumpy.

I inhale deeply, trying to place the old couple’s scent. There’s something… not quite human about it. Not shifter, exactly. More like… Owen.

Yes, they smell like Owen, Fenris agrees. But not like family.

They’re not human, and yet they’re posing as such. They should be able to recognize our lack of humanity, so it makes no sense for them to continue this pretense.

Better to figure them out now.

“We’d appreciate it,” I cut in smoothly, watching Grace blink as I accept their invitation. She doesn’t seem to think I’m capable of interacting with others.

Considering how you met, this should be obvious, Fenris mutters. I can still feel him sulking over the mutt comment. O

Ignoring him, I continue, “We’re still settling in, and this storm’s only made it harder. It’s our first time taking this rig out with the family.”

Ron gives me a long, confused look. Sara goes a little pale beside him, mouthing “family?” at him with wide eyes.

The old couple either doesn’t notice, or pretends not to.

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141 Caine: Brat vs Brot

Jer, completely unconcerned with the nuances of our strange social dynamics, throws a fist in the air and roars, “FIRE!” before taking off, heading toward the old couples camper. The golden retriever bounds after him, tail wagging enthusiastically.

“Come back!” Grace yells after him, panicking. It’s easy to tell by the way her hands flutter around and she spins between me, Jer, and the elderly couple, clearly uncertain if she should apologize, wait for me to handle it, or run after him.

The old couple just laugh, completely unperturbed by the chaos. “Let the child run,” the old lady says with a dismissive wave. “It’s good for them.”

“Oh, but…” She looks back at me, and I nod.

Everything’s okay.

But for some reason she just looks more distressed after I try to reassure her.

Again, considering your history of behavior–0

Lay off, Fenris.

“This’ll be so helpful, you coming,” the old lady continues, patting her husband’s arm as she beams. “We always make too much. Big fridge, you know. We’re used to larger family affairs. He always says I cook like I’m making food for an entire army.”

Grace laughs awkwardly, the sound pitched a little too high to be natural. Her eyes continue to dart between the old couple, the retreating back of Jer, and me.

I slide my arm behind her, not quite touching but close enough to feel the heat radiating from her body. It’s an exquisite torture. “Let’s go, dear.”

A little human, but… good.

Grace twitches à little at her use of dear but just remains staring at me, looking somewhat dazed.

Humans love their pet names. Mate would be my choice, though.

Sweetheart, honey, babe, baby. These are your choices. And for the sake of all the god above and my sanity, do not call her Muffin.

Hmm. I’d never considered it, but Muffin would be-

1 frown a little, freezing the expression when Grace Jerks again. Have to watch my face. around her. Honey and baby are on the list, but not Muffin? How does that add up?

Don’t bother questioning me. You’d never understand.

Don’t underestimate her. She’ll be fine once she stops worrying about your sanity.

I frown again, my mouth freezing as soon as I realize I am. Instead, I try to smile at my mate, who’s still staring at me with concern. What do you mean?

You’re being too sweet and neighborly, and far too affectionate. It’s confusing her.

Yes, yes. You’re just a beacon of humanity.

Exactly. You’re acting human, and it’s weird.

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