Grace of a Wolf (by Lenaleia) novel Chapter 195

195 Grace: Buzzles

Ron, watching me, returns to the reliable and steadfast kid he usually is. “We’re having sandwiches. It looks like Grace is leaving.”

My heart jumps into my throat as he looms in front of me, one step below where I’m standing. Close enough I could reach out and brush my fingertips against his long, silky eyelashes, with the perfect amount of curl mine require tools to replicate.

What a weird sentence. It feels awkward and convoluted even as it comes out.

My terrible, plummeting mood rises immediately.

Fighting the smile threatening to curve my lips, I step back inside and close the door, watching as more Blue Mountain shifters stare with smug, awful faces in our direction.

I drag a hand through my hair. “Look, it’s… We’re pretending, okay? Caine and I are pretending we’re not together, and he’s pretending you’re his children, not mine.”

Like zombie invasions, per my dreams.

Ron nods, with a faint smile twitching at his lips. “It’s Grace.” 2

“I want pizza,” Jer counters.

“What the heck was that?” Sara asks the moment the door clicks shut, her red

wide.

My throat tightens. “Thanks.”

Did he notice how I felt?

I nod. “I grew up here. They never really accepted me.”

eyes

“Because…” I don’t know, either. He went off–script for that one. “Because the people here don’t like humans very much. They especially don’t like me. But they’re afraid of Caine. If they think you’re his, they won’t mess with you.”

“No, idiot.” Jer gives Sara a disgusted look. “She said we’re pretending to not be hers.”

Sara snickers. “I think she thinks you’re the dad.”

I stiffen.

09:35

195 Grace: Buzzles

And Bun? Well, she’s Bun. A fly came in at some point, and now she’s trying to catch it. Without breaking eye contact, Sara pulls her off the table and sets her on the ground, leaving her free to toddle after flying insects.

The mission about meeting with the Guardian has updated.

One of them–a shifter I vaguely recognize but can’t name–catches my eye deliberately. His lip curls in a sneer, and he spits on the ground, giving me a smirk before sauntering away.

“But what about Owen?” Jer challenges. “Maybe he’s the mom!”

Then Jer’s face scrunches. “But why is he our dad, then?”

I glance up, blinking a little in his direction. “Uh–yeah. I have to go…”

He opens his mouth, then closes it again, defeated. “You can be our grandma?”

There’s a bunch of numbers underneath, looking like some sort of coordinates. I press my thumb against it, and a map pops up, complete with arrows and a line for directions.

“Language!” I snap automatically. It’s starting to feel like second nature.

“Look. You guys just need to… act normal. Stay in the camper as much as possible. If anyone asks, yes, Caine is your father, and no, I’m not connected to you at all. I’m just… here. No–better yet, I’m your babysitter.”

“What the hell was that?” Jer echoes, practically vibrating with indignation. “Aren’t you the Queen? Why’s he acting like you aren’t his mate?”

“They don’t like you because you’re human?” Sara asks, something flickering in her red

eyes.

My eyes follow Caine’s broad shoulders as he marches away with his men, his entire body rigid and his fists clenched at his sides. Even from here, I can feel the waves of anger radiating off him.

His shoulders look even more tense than before, if that’s possible.

But the older kid shakes his head. “You two are the idiots. She’s definitely the mom.”

“If you’ve got a better one, I’m all ears.”

195 Grace: Buzzles

“Owen can’t be the mom, Jeridiot. Ron bares his teeth. “He’s a guy”

My phone buzzles again. New word: vibration with epic intensity, okay? 2

A quick glance informs me a countdown has started..

“If he’s our dad, Grace is definitely the mom.”

Jer chimes in, “Yeah, she’s not Mom. She said so.”

My words tumble all over themselves as I brush a quick kiss over Bun’s curls and hunt my shoes in the pile by the door.

Smug superiority. Disgust. Disdain.

If she’d stick to one set of ears, it would be easier to explain away. But we don’t need rumors of her ears going from cats to rabbits at any given opportunity.

“If Grace is the dad, then is Owen still the mom? Or is it the Lycan King?” Jer asks curiously.

But for once, those looks don’t make my stomach twist with shame.

It worked. Our terrible acting job actually worked.

“I have to go right now. Ron, watch the kids. No one go outside. Sandwiches only, and don’t touch the propane. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

A fucking countdown.

“That’s stupid,” Jer declares, his loyalty heart–warming. “You’re better than all of them.” “Stupid, she just said she’s not our mom.”

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