Grace of a Wolf (by Lenaleia) novel Chapter 9
Chapter 9: Grace: Unwelcome Advances
I have to leave the pack.
This realization is a long time coming, but when I wake up to Rafe’s face staring down at me, in the relative safety of my own room, it’s a decision made for me.
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I’m not safe anywhere. Not even where I sleep.
“Don’t shout,” he whispers, placing a hand over my mouth.
I wasn’t going to, anyway. No one would come to my aid here.
My nod seems to relieve him, because he lets me go and sits on my bed without asking for permission.
I sit up, my fingers clutching the blanket and pulling it over my chest. The thin fabric offers little protection, but it’s all I have against Rafe’s piercing blue gaze. I’m still wearing my clothes from yesterday, but being in my bed—in my room—leaves me feeling vulnerable.
My heart pounds, a traitorous rhythm that threatens to betray my resolve.
“What are you doing here?”
Rafe’s sun-bright hair catches the dim light, a halo around his perfect features. His blue eyes, once a source of comfort, now make my stomach twist.
All I can see is how he dumped me for Ellie the moment he realized they were mates.
“How are you doing, Grace?”
His hand reaches for mine. I flinch away, pressing myself against the headboard.
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“What are you doing here?” The words come out sharper this time.
Rafe’s shoulders slump, and he runs a hand through his hair, mussing the perfect strands. “I’m worried about you.”
A harsh laugh escapes my lips before I can stop it. “That’s rich.”
“I mean it, Grace. I care about you.”
“You have a funny way of showing it.”
His sad facade fades as his jaw clenches. There’s a tick beneath his skin, a twitching that only serves to remind me he’s changed. Like a personality transplant. Or, worse—I never knew him at all. “It’s complicated.”
“No, it’s not. You chose her. You made that perfectly clear.”
There’s a flash of amber bleeding into the blue of his eyes. My lack of submission must anger his wolf, too. “It’s not that simple. The mate bond—”
“Save it.” I cut him off, wishing my words came out with more scorn and less trembling. “I don’t want to hear about your precious mate bond.”
Rafe leans forward, his scent washing over me. Trees and earth and everything I once called home. “Grace, please. I never meant to hurt you.”
“But you did.” The words hang between us, heavy and undeniable. Making me sound way too fragile.
He reaches for me again, and this time I let him take my hand. His touch sends sparks racing up my arm, and I hate myself for the way my body responds to him.
“I miss you,” he whispers.
For a moment, I let myself believe him. Let myself imagine a world where we could go back to the way things were. But then I remember Ellie’s cruel smile. His indifference in the forest, when I was near-naked and terrified. And how impossible it is for me to remain in this abusive pack.
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I pull my hand away. “You don’t get to miss me. You don’t get to come in here and act like you care.”
“I do care!” Rafe’s voice rises, and I flinch. He takes a deep breath, visibly trying to calm himself. “I know things are different now, but that doesn’t mean I’ve stopped caring about you.”
“Different?” The word is so fucking pathetic for this situation, leaving me with no way to express how I feel. So I laugh. A brittle, sharp, broken sound. “Like how your new mate treats me like dirt? How the entire pack looks at me like I’m nothing?”
Rafe’s face twists into something ugly, before it smooths out again. He leans forward, grabbing my hand and holding tight, not letting me go. “I’ll talk to Ellie. I’ll make sure she treats you better.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” I shake my head, disbelief coursing through me. “It’s not just about how Ellie treats me. It’s about how you let her treat me. How you stand by and watch while I’m humiliated and abused.”
“I can’t go against my mate, Grace. You know that.”
“Then why are you here?” I demand, anger finally overtaking the hurt. “What do you want from me?”
Rafe’s eyes darken, and suddenly he’s too close. His hand cups my cheek, and I hate the way I lean into his touch. Like a bad fucking habit. “I want you,” he breathes.
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For a heartbeat, I’m tempted. To give in, to let him kiss me, to pretend that nothing has changed. It would be so much easier.
I hate him.
But I miss him. So much.
He was my everything. I dreamed of a future with him. I loved him.
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“You are mine,” he insists, resting a hand on the wall beside my head. “You’re just angry with me. It’s okay, Gracie. I understand. I get it. I hurt you.”
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