Grace of a Wolf (by Lenaleia) novel Chapter 159

159 Jack–Eye: Report

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JACK–EYE

I step in front of Caine just as he’s about to barrel into the RV. Maybe not the smartest move, but there are things he needs to know before he goes storming in there like a goddamn tornado.

“Hold up.” I plant my hand on his chest, feeling the vibration of his growl against my palm. “I need to report.”

His flat stare comes with a brief flick of dominance in the air. It’s more of an instinctual

push than anything he’s doing on purpose, but I’m used to these little flickers of his.

The muscle in his jaw twitches, and for a second, I think he might just snap my arm off. He seems pretty pissed about something.

Probably noticed me staring at Lyre’s ass. 1

Still, he takes a step back, breathing in deeply. “Make it quick, Jack–Eye.”

I can’t help the smirk as it slides across my face. “You were pretty busy last night when

I tried to check in. Now you’re in a hurry? What were you up to, hmm?”

It’s not hard to tell; I can smell Grace all over him. Not the kind of scent–sharing where you’re in a room together for hours, but marked and saturated. Good for her. I didn’t think a human would be capable of this level of scent–marking, but it’ll come in handy for a slip of a girl like her.

His eyes flash with a flicker of amber in the gray. Yeah, he’s pissed. “Get on with it,

Jack.”

My smirk disappears. Fine. Not the time to poke the bear–or wolf, in this case.

“We tracked our killer to a remote cabin.” I keep my voice level, all business. “Unfortunately, they were already gone. All we found was a body–Marsh, the only other young one in the pack. His body was a mess. No sign of Halloway or anyone else.”

Caine’s eyes narrow. “And?“/

“And the cabin had been scrubbed clean. Not just physically, but my nose couldn’t pick up anything. Lyre managed to catch some trace with her witchery, and she’s been

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159 Jack Eyeport

using Thom to help track whatever it is. She’s being cagey with the information, but at last report, they backtracked here.”

“Their territory,” he murmurs. “It’s not surprising, especially if it’s Halloway. He’s not going to give up his territory so casily.”

“Right.”

“What else?”

I watch the war play out on his face. He wants blood. Caine’s never been the kind of alpha to stand back and let his subordinates take care of trouble, especially in recent

years.

But he keeps glancing back at the RV, where Grace is. Where the kids are.

His priorities have changed.

Then again, he’s showing some signs of being calmer. Maybe not by much, but it seems like Grace is a good influence on his emotional state.

“I’ll handle it,” I say, making the decision for him. “Me and Lyre. You can stay here with Grace and the kids. She’ll need you to keep them safe, anyway. I’m not sure how good Owen is in a fight.”

He’s burly, but it doesn’t mean he’s efficient. Or even skilled.

Caine hesitates, and I press on. “Lyre’s a powerhouse in her own right, and you don’t even get along with her. Both of you in the same car will derail the mission before you get within a hundred yards.”

He scowls.

For a moment, I think he’s going to tell me to fuck off, but then his shoulders drop a fraction of an inch. “Fine. Keep me updated.”

“Got it, Your Majesty,” I say, unable to resist poking him just a little.

He raises his upper lip in a silent snarl. Nothing like an old–fashioned Your Majesty to put him in a bad mood. He hates it. Says it makes him feel like he’s in some strange play.

But then he does something unexpected. Something more reminiscent of the Caine

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159 Jack–Eye: Report

pre–King.

He smacks at my shoulder. “Thanks.”

Granted, he sounds constipated and his face looks like he wants to murder me, but…

It’s good to see him like this, able to calm down after an adrenaline rush. He’s usually amped for days afterward. Even Fenris has a hard time keeping him in check when it gets real bad.

I can’t help but grin. “Wow, you must really be losing it. You almost ripped my head off a minute ago, and now you’re thanking me? Don’t say you weren’t. I can always tell. You get this twitch in your left eye.”

He makes a groaning, growling kind of mixed sound, like he isn’t sure whether to be exasperated or to hit me in the jaw. “Don’t push it, Jack–Eye.”

Eve. Report

answer to. “If you’re asking if we can trust her…”

*I am.”

“Well, first off, she’s scary as hell and could probably kill us all in our sleep if she wanted to.”

Caine raises an eyebrow. His entire stance says not me, she can’t. A disloyal part of my head thinks, yeah, even you.

Keep me out of this.

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