Page 42 of Coveted By the Alpha Pack

She recounts the overwhelming joy she experienced when she first laid eyes on her daughter. The sound of Ashina’s tiny voice calling out, echoing in her memory. I can almost feel the warmth spreading through her as the maternal bond instantly clicks into place.

But then comes the unexpected turn. Grace’s voice falters as she describes the rage on Hunter’s face. His rage was directed at her as if she had committed a betrayal by bringing a daughter into the world. The tension in the room is palpable, and I can sense Grace’s turmoil as she relives that moment.

The air is thick with tension as Grace recounts the moment she discovered Hunter’s true nature. Her voice quivered slightly as she describes the plans she had meticulously crafted months before. The memory of using the slingshot to confront Hunter for the first time sends a shiver down my spine.

As she speaks of running for her life with our daughter, every nerve in my body seems to ignite with adrenaline. Griffin’s body tenses beneath her, his arms instinctively tightening around Grace. In that moment, the primal instinct to protect overwhelms us, coursing through my veins like a raging river.

But then Grace’s words hit me like a sledgehammer to the chest. The realization that we, that I, couldn’t shield her when she needed us most, it rocks me to the core. The weight of that failure presses down on me like a leaden cloak, suffocating and unrelenting. Even though I know there was nothing I could do.

Grace’s demeanor shifts as she recounts arriving back in Wolf Creek for the first time in twenty years. “Stepping into the woods at Gram’s house felt like home,” she says, her voice carrying a soft, wistful tone. I notice a subtle relaxation in her posture, a release of tension I hadn’t seen in weeks.

“There’s a scent on the wind that night,” she continues, her words wrapped in a gentle sigh, “toasted marshmallows that remind me of the campfires of my youth.” As she speaks, I can almost sense the crackling fire, feel the warmth against my skin. She spoke of her creator’s scent and I watch Griffin’s posture change slightly. A genuine smile graces her lips, a rare sight in our sessions lately, as she recalls the comforting aroma.

“The scent draws me towards the woods,” she explains, her voice laced with a newfound sense of certainty. “Instinctually, I know I’m safe in the woods behind my grandmother’s home.” Her eyes drift closed, and for a moment, the room seems to fade away as she immerses herself in the memory. The smile lingers on her lips, a small but significant sign of progress. “I know now the scent that called to me, that it was Ethan’s scent and that he was my mate.” Grace’s eyes open slowly and then she looks at me, smiling.

“What else can you tell us, Grace?” The therapist tilts his head, looking at her before glancing quickly at Griffin and me before refocusing back on Grace.

“I remember the day I met Barrett. He smelled safe. Felt safe.” Grace lowered her eyes to her hand and played at the edge of her shirt.

“Smelled safe? You were still human at the time. Can you explain?” The therapist sits up and leans forward, interested.

“I’ve always had a great sense of smell. I can hunt and track better than most in my family.” Grace shifted slightly on Griffin’s lap.

“We theorize that it’s because Ethan healed Grace when we were kids with his blood.” Griffin offers as he kisses Grace’s cheek.

“You didn’t get sick from his blood?” The therapist tilts his head, looking at Grace, waiting for her answer.

“Not that I remember. After that, I didn’t get sick like the other kids.” Grace shrugs her shoulders and leans back against Griffin. It’s a tell that she’s uncomfortable at the subject.

“Interesting … This brings a new angle to this whole dynamic.” The therapist taps his finger on his bottom lip, considering the information.

“What do you mean?” I ask as I lean forward, mimicking his lean.

The therapist motions towards Grace. “Your body accepted his blood in your adolescences. Being separated from your mate for over twenty years can cause insanity. You didn’t know why he made you feel safe, but he did. It’s why you want his wolf or Nicolai’s wolf for comfort. Their beasts steady yours. She respects their strength.” The therapist sits back in his chair, studying Grace.

Grace shifts in Griffin’s lap and rolls her pants leg up to look at her knee. The small scar that sits there is silver white, unlike her other scars that hold color. “Ah … May I?” The therapist motions to her knee.

“Yes?” Her answer is more of a question than an answer. I can feel through the bond her uneasiness.

“Be careful, she’s uneasy but curious.” Griffin mentions gently more to protect the therapist than Grace.

The therapist nods and moves closer, taking a knee before Grace, looking at the scar without touching. His eyes shift and Grace lets loose a deep growl in warning. The minute the therapist’s eyes return to human, she calms. “Interesting reaction. You don’t like my wolf. Why?” He backs away as he questions Grace and she tilts her head several times.

Grace sits back, and as she opens her mouth, I see her canines. Her features sharpen bones, realigning looking more canine. “He was too close.” Her teeth remain gritted as she stares at him, not breaking eye contact. Grace’s glare intensifies until the therapist turns and lowers his gaze.

A shuddering breath escapes the therapist’s lips as he returns to his chair. “I didn’t feel your dominance until you got angry.” He won’t raise his eyes to meet Graces again.

“I don’t like getting angry,” Grace says, her eyes still fixed on the therapist. This is the first time I’ve watched him actually push her. Whatever he saw in her eyes was enough that he won’t raise even his human eyes to meet hers.

“I think that’s enough for today. We’ll meet again on Friday. Bring Lorcan and Nicolai this time.” The therapist says as Grace and Griffin leave the room.

I remain behind as usual and wait. “Any suggestions?”

He looks towards the door, terror clear in his eyes. “She is of two spirits. The nurturing of the lunar wolf, and the fierce protectiveness of the ember wolf that’s growing in her chest.” He runs her hand down his face and sighs. “Somehow they live in harmony in her. Goddess, help anyone that raises fang or claw to people she loves. That beast of fire will rise and destroy the world to protect what’s hers.”

The therapist’s words haunt me the rest of the afternoon. We saw Grace to get to the point of rage. She was close to losing herself to her wolf, or was it almost becoming the ember wolf?

I need to meet with the others when Grace takes the babies to hang out with the grandmothers. We need to be prepared for the possibility of Grace changing to protect the packs. It’s on brand for Grace to want to protect everyone. All those years of feeling helpless to now being strong enough to protect others. I’ll gather the others and tell them my concerns. Hopefully, as a family, we’ll figure out a way to help Grace.

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