Grace of a Wolf (by Lenaleia) novel Chapter 256

Chapter 256: Grace: Seriously, This Damn Cat

Catching a cat is like catching air: impossible.

But it lands a few scratches on my arms for the attempt. For the record? Not a great way to say thank you, but whatever; this is why cats aren’t man’s best friend.

A couple choice swear words want to escape my mouth, but I bite them back with the force of sheer willpower and throw a nasty little scowl in the direction of the now-offended feline as I scramble to my feet before she throws the cat at me again. This time I want to be able to dodge if she does. "If it was my friend, would I have these scratches?" I demand of Ellie, holding out my bleeding arms.

Seriously. Cat scratches hurt like no other.

"Hm," she grunts, completely ignoring my point as she looks around. Her jaw must be itchy, because she keeps scratching at it. "How long are you keeping us here this time?"

The way she thinks I know everything she knows is both annoying and relieving. Annoying, because I don’t. Relieving, because... well, it’s keeping me alive.

I think.

Or making it worse. I don’t know.

"I’m not really sure how to get us out," I say, even though I definitely am not the one who brought us here. Wherever here is. But it isn’t a lie, so it shouldn’t spark any deceitful smells to tip her off; I really have no idea, after all.

But seriously, what is this? A parallel version of reality where no one but the three of us reside, I guess. A pocket dimension, maybe? I should have read more science fiction books. Maybe I’d know exactly what’s going on if I did.

"Hm," Ellie grunts again, and I wonder what exactly she’s lived through to warp her personality so bad.

Ellie’s always been about perfection. I’ve spent enough time on the other end of her condescending smirks and snide remarks and petty ways to make my life worse to know this isn’t really the Ellie of before.

"So," I say, trying to be as casual as possible even as I take a subtle step back to regain a little distance between us. Not like a step is going to do much in the grand scheme of a shifter’s attack, but still. "Ever consider doing something other than trying to kill me to get this cycle to stop?"

Her sharp emerald gaze has me freezing in an instant, my foot awkwardly hovering a centimeter or so above the ground. I set it down an agonizing millimeter at a time, breathing a silent sigh of relief when she doesn’t snap my head off.

"Like what?" she asks after a too-long stare. She sounds almost bored, but I swear there’s a glimmer in her eyes. Her desperation has piqued her curiosity.

I clear my throat and square my shoulders, trying to act more confident than I feel. "I know a guy. Maybe he’ll have some answers." He better, anyway. But considering his track record...

Ellie lurches forward, then stops and straightens, almost pathetic in how purposefully blase she tries to make herself seem. "A guy," she says coolly, flipping her tangled hair over her shoulder. "It’s always a guy with you, isn’t it?"

For a wolf, she’s pretty damn catty herself.

Speaking of...

I glance to the side, where the offended cat is sitting with its tail tucked around its paws, blinking at us.

"Yeah, I guess," I mutter, deciding to go along with how badly she thinks of me. Soothe the savage beast and all that.

She makes a little scoffing sound that sounds very before-Ellie, then flicks her fingers at me. Her messed up manicure catches her eye when she does, and she frowns at her fingers again. "Go on, then. Who’s this guy?"

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