Grace of a Wolf (by Lenaleia) novel Chapter 151

Chapter 151: Grace: On a Scale of One to Ten...

My body feels like someone’s buried me in wet cement, on top of every cell in my body pulsing with a low, electric hum.

It isn’t painful. It’s just... there.

Present.

Like background noise.

I flutter my eyes open, squinting against the dark ceiling. It’s definitely morning—there’s light peeking around the room-darkening blinds—but no idea what time.

Hell, it could be afternoon.

The air conditioner’s on, too. I wonder if someone was smart enough to close the window. They must have, because I can hear the generator running, but it’s muffled.

Stretching is a whole process, involving groaning and trying to untangle myself from the sheets, evidence of restless sleep and...

Oh, sweet Goddess.

All the memories flood back. Caine’s hands, his mouth, the golden threads connecting us, the freaking bite, his face when he came all over my hands—and my cheeks flame instantly. I shift, feeling the ache between my thighs, the tender spot on my neck where his teeth met my skin, and a strange internal vibration which hasn’t quite gone away.

A little girl’s squeal rings out from outside, followed by Caine’s deep voice.

"Bun, don’t put that in your mouth. That’s dirt. We don’t eat dirt."

I scramble to the edge of the bed and pull the black fabric shades back just a little, enough to peek through the side.

Caine’s standing with his back to my window, holding Bun upside down by her ankles while she giggles uncontrollably. Sara and Jer are chasing each other with sticks. Ron’s using Fenris as some sort of furry pillow as he snoozes in the sunlight.

They look... normal. Happy. Like a family.

Huh. And the strange, foreboding feeling is completely gone.

I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, wincing as my feet hit the floor. My body doesn’t just ache—it buzzes, like my entire body’s been wrapped around a battery.

If I had to guess (not like it’s a hard one to figure out), this has something to do with our... shenanigans.

There’s no time to contemplate it. I need coffee, a shower, and to look even semi-human. Caine had changed all the sheets last night during my shower—another reason he’s amazing and doesn’t deserve the frustration I’d thrown his way yesterday—and I’m feeling a little...

Well.

Useless?

Seriously. A girl’s gotta earn her keep these days.

Running my fingers through my tangled hair, I shuffle toward the bedroom door. Mistake number one is looking in the mirror.

Jesus.

I look like I’ve been electrocuted.

Sleeping with wet hair doesn’t always end well.

A brisk brushing of hair and teeth later, I step into the main living area of the camper, only to jerk to a stop.

Lyre sits at the dinette, one leg folded under her, scrolling through her phone with a deep furrow between her eyebrows. Her slitted eyes flick across the screen rapidly. She doesn’t look up.

"Hi, Grace."

"Uh... morning, Lyre. When did you come in?"

Feeling a little guilty with all the memories of things I definitely should not have been doing (in her bed, no less!), I trudge my way to the coffee maker. One step at a time. Just need to get the coffee going, and then—

My hands fly up, hovering uselessly in front of me as if they could push her words away. How does she even know? Was she watching? Did Caine tell her? How much did he tell her?!

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