Grace of a Wolf (by Lenaleia) novel Chapter 206

200 Grace Braindead Ex

206 Grace: Braindead Ex

“Not enough, apparently,” I mutter.

If Ron attacks Rafe…

“Is something wrong?” Ron’s deeper tone follows, steady but wary, and out of the corner of my eye I can see him motioning for Sara to watch over Bun. He’s clearly outclassed against an alpha wolf like Rafe, but the teenager squares his shoulders and straightens his spine to increase his aura as he walks unhesitatingly to my side.

“You don’t blame me?” My voice rises with each word, even when I’m struggling to keep it flat. “That’s funny, because I blame you for quite a lot.”

“Get out,” I demand, my voice suddenly hoarse as tears come out of nowhere. I blink them back.

And his blue eyes are no longer clear and beautiful, but reddened around the edges and burning with something I’ve never seen before. If I had to guess, he’s… angry? But his body language says otherwise.

“Also none of your business.”

“Get out,” I repeat, refusing to engage.

It’s gross.

“Grace.” He sighs out my name like I’m a lost child finally found.

My hands itch, both from disgust from touching him and with the urge to slap his stupid face. But I refuse to lower my arms, knowing if I do this man will probably consider it an invitation to waltz into my home.

More importantly, there’s the casual possession in Rafe’s tone. And he has the audacity to still call me Gracie after all this?

His expression darkens. “You smell like-” He stops, jaw working as he processes. “Who have you been with?”

“Why did you leave me?” Each word is harsh, ragged. “We had a plan, Grace. You were supposed to wait for me. What did you tell Andrew? What did you do to him?”

*** 208 Grace, Braindload Ex

For what it’s worth, you should never open a door without checking who it is, even when you know who’s coming.

I jerk him back with the faintest shake of my head.

His hands reach up to hold just above my elbows as his eyes travel over my face with frantic little movements. His upper lip curls into a snarl, a faint rumbling coming from his chest. Then, like flipping a switch, he tries to smooth it away. His face arranges itself into something meant to be understanding, I think.

“You need to leave.”

Raphael leans in, too close. His familiar pine scent suddenly smells artificial and overpowering, making me sneeze. “I’m looking for you. I came for you. Do you have any idea what I’ve been through when I realized you disappeared?”

Somehow, the calm I’ve forced myself to wear shatters with this little moment, and I let go of Rafe’s hand, my hand flying for his face.

His golden hair is dulled with dust. Or sweat. Or… both? It hangs limply around a face both familiar and not, with heavy shadows beneath his eyes and a grim twist to his lips. His confident, glowing, heroic aura is gone like it never existed, and now Rafe looks… Ron being only a couple years younger than me doesn’t matter; in my head, he’s my kid, under my protection, and I won’t let anyone hurt him. 2

“Yes, it is,” I counter, ignoring my ex–boyfriend’s rising panic. “You need to leave.”

Ron’s full of tense energy beside me, practically vibrating as his hands twitch at his sides. Once again, I jerk my arm out of Rafe’s hold, this time to grab the teenager’s arm and squeeze gently.

Even if it is just a snarl from my braindead ex.

Because sometimes it isn’t who you think it is.

Lyre’s protections do nothing; after all, I’m the dumbass who opened the door.

Rafe stares at me in shock, and I wish his cheek would turn red from the force. It doesn’t, though. A pathetic slap from a human isn’t going to do much against an alpha wolf.

After days with Caine–and even seeing Jack–Eye as often as I have—he’s severely

200 Grace, Braindead Ex

lacking in that category.

My words are calm despite their force; raising my voice here will only make me out to be weaker. All I have to do is wait. Caine is on his way.

No, why would he think that?

“Grace.” The way he says my name now carries a warning. “Tell me you haven’t been stupid enough to get involved with another pack. Tell me you’re not–”

His eyes dart around the camper, landing on the children in the living room.

“Gracie…”

“Get out.”

My brief moment of shock breaks and I twist my arm free, planting both hands against Rafe’s chest as I shove him backward.

Hopefully my mom–telepathy is better than relationship–telepathy; the squeeze is supposed to mean Everything’s okay, don’t worry.

“Our bond isn’t–I didn’t expect it. That’s all. And Ellie isn’t like what I thought. But you, Gracie, you’re everything-”

He doesn’t budge.

His hand clamps around my forearm. “Why didn’t you follow the plan? You weren’t supposed to-

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