Grace of a Wolf (by Lenaleia) novel Chapter 238

Chapter 238: Jack-Eye: Something’s Missing

JACK-EYE

Our new influx of Lycans is well-timed; with Owen babysitting the two young children Lyre’s become so concerned about, the others have become somewhat problematic.

Between the rampant infections and having to rearrange people into homes based on medical need, a few medics who aren’t thrilled to be here, and two deaths, there’s far too much to handle with both Lyre and Thom disappearing into the underground to find more survivors.

I cross my arms, looking down at our reinforcements. They’ve been hand-selected by our illustrious king for their discretion and, more importantly, their ability to follow basic fucking instructions.

As a whole, shifters are better known for their physical ability and less for the intellectual side of things. Not that we’re stupid—far from it—but too many of us have learned to rely on instinct and the other half of our souls. And wolves might be intelligent, but their intelligence is uniquely primed to survival, not thrival.

Which is why most of our territories tend to struggle financially, though we’re also remarkably self-sufficient.

"Any questions?" I ask the newly arrived four, daring them to waste my time after twenty minutes of running through the situation at hand.

Four heads shake in perfect unison.

Derek is a little older than I am, and while his mustache might make him look like some sort of predator against women, he’s also happily mated with four pups of varying ages.

"You." I jerk my chin in his direction. "You’re in charge of transporting the two children to Blue Mountain territory. Don’t get comfortable here. You leave as soon as Owen clears them for travel."

"Yes, Beta."

"The rest of you," I continue, "we’ve got survivors with varying degrees of infection and physical trauma. We have food to make, laundry to wash, and deliveries to sort. Our medics are already stretched thin. These are survivors, so remember to treat them with care."

"Understood, Beta," the other three say in unison.

I lead them through the make-shift command center we’ve established on the main floor of what used to be Fiddleback’s alpha lodge. It was once decorated with class and flair, but now it’s piled high on every surface with plastic bags from the local grocery store and stacks of cheap throw blankets, along with unorganized clothes from a thrift store haul Owen managed before Lyre went back underground.

Fiddleback’s turned into a refugee sort of situation, and we still haven’t figured out the long-term logistics here.

After introducing the new Lycans to some of the hospital staff we’ve forced into twenty-four-seven staffing on site, along with a few of the healthier survivors who’ve taken more of a leadership role, my nose twitches as a faint and familiar scent rides on the air.

But it’s a little wrong.

My steps falter as I turn my head instinctively to its source. Derek almost collides against my back.

"Sir?"

"Familiarize yourselves," I tell them, too distracted now. "Tell me if you need anything. Derek, I’ll introduce you to Owen later."

"Got it, Beta."

But I don’t wait for their acknowledgment, because I’m already moving toward the scent. My pace quickens with each step, that wrongness growing stronger. It’s Lyre but... strange, like a part of her scent is now missing.

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