Grace of a Wolf (by Lenaleia) novel Chapter 255

Chapter 255: Grace: It’s a... Cat?

Ellie taps her claw-fingers against her thighs, tilting her head this way and that as she stares at me. Then she bounds forward so suddenly I don’t have time to scramble away.

Next thing I know, she’s crouched in front of me and reaching out to pinch my chin between her thumb and forefinger. Her claws prick at my skin, but don’t draw blood. It’s a tight grip, and she jerks my head around, examining me like I’m a prime hunk of meat.

I hold my breath, my entire body stiff as a board, and a now-familiar rush of energy surges from deep inside me on a mad dash to where Ellie’s fingers touch my skin.

My eyes nearly cross as I grasp frantically for control. Losing all my energy and blacking out would be less than ideal with my potential murderer in front of me, but it somehow feels like the exact kind of thing I’d have happen to me...

Thankfully, Caine’s been giving me a lot of practice. It’s more fun with him, though.

The energy slows to a trickle instead of a flood, but it’s enough. Ellie’s face has completely smoothed out, her partially shifted features gone like they never were. Her claws no longer threaten to pierce my skin, leaving the jagged remnants of a once-perfect manicure.

The wild, unstable look in her eyes fades until I’m staring at the exhausted leftovers of the polished, arrogant girl I could never stand.

Ellie, no longer insane (I think) stares at me for what feels like a full minute before finally letting go and standing up straight. Her movements are different now—hesitant, a little unsteady. She looks around us, blinking like she’s just woken up from a deep sleep. Or maybe after drinking a little too much.

Whatever. The point is, she’s not all murder-stabby right now, and that’s what matters.

"Cut off your head and burned the body. Hoped it would end it, but it didn’t. How did you do it?" she asks, her voice now lacking not only the manic edge but her usual arrogant condescension, too. She sounds... exhausted.

"I didn’t do anything," I say quickly, still sitting on the sidewalk, afraid to move. My entire body’s trembling with how stiff I am. Holding yourself still is surprisingly hard work.

She scoffs, rubbing at her forehead with her palm. Her hair’s still a tangled mess, and she pulls at it with a faint scowl as she inspects what has to be a thousand split ends. Then she flicks her offending hair away and looks at me again. "That’s bullshit."

The woman who apparently once decapitated me (seriously, can I shudder? I want to shudder) has been replaced by someone who just seems tired of life.

Her life this time, not mine. To be clear.

"Look, I don’t know what’s happening either," I try again.

Ellie doesn’t seem to care, because now she’s inspecting her fingernails, frowning at them like they aren’t her own. Eventually, she grimaces and raises her face to the sky. "I’m so tired of this shit, Grace."

For the first time ever, I have a twinge of sympathy. Only a little, though. I mean, the woman’s killed me multiple times, so... yeah. Nope. The sympathy’s gone.

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