Page 40 of Grace of a Wolf 1
"Could I have my pillow back?"
Caine's eyes flicker. "No."
Then he stands in one fluid motion, my pillow clutched to his chest like a trophy. Without another word, he strides to the door and leaves, taking it with him.
I stare at the closed door, mouth hanging open. What just happened? Did the Lycan King—the most powerful shifter in existence, the man who just orchestrated a bloodbath—seriously just steal mypillow?
The absurdity of it hits me, and I sink onto the now-pillowless bed. A hysterical laugh bubbles up in my throat. Of all the scenarios I imagined when I woke up, the Lycan King becoming a pillow thief wasn't one of them.
"I wish he'd just kill me and get it over with," I mumble, staring out the window. At the sky, so I don't focus on the bodies.
It's blue. Fluffy clouds pass by, indifferent to the suffering below, and I wonder—again—what he's going to do with me.
Chapter nineteen
Grace: Aftermath
The rest of the morning passes without incident.
Or food.
My stomach growls. The clock on the wall ticks past noon, and each second is another twist of my belly. It's been over a day since I've eaten, but at least I have free access to water now.
Small mercies.
But I can't stay in this room forever, can I?
My fingers tap against my lower lip as I stare at the door. It's a standard wood-grain door, probably hollow, with a simple knob.Nothing extravagant or strange, and yet my heart stutters at the thought of what lies beyond it.
Life isn't the same anymore. Alpha's dead, and I've lost all protection. What do Lycans do with humans? Alpha never let me see them before, saying it was dangerous. It's clear that's one thing he didn't lie about. Honestly, the fact I'm even alive when so many are dead…
"This is ridiculous." My voice is soft in the silence, but speaking at all seems to build my courage to push off the bed and ignore how my legs shake as I take one step, then another.
The brass doorknob is cool under my palm. I curl my fingers around it, but my grip trembles.
My stomach growls again, loud enough to echo off the walls. The sound startles me out of my frozen state, and I open the door. Just a tiny inch of space, not really enough to peek through.
I press my ear to the gap but hear only silence. No footsteps. No voices. No breathing.
The door opens wider under my palm. I peek through the crack, scanning the hallway beyond. Carpeted floor. Framed landscapes along the wall. Bright light overhead.
A massive figure looms in the hallway. Dark eyes lock onto mine, set in a face carved from granite. The Lycan's lip curls, revealing the edge of a fang, and I swear I can hear a growl rumbling my way.
I slam the door shut and scurry back to my bed, breathing hard.
Dangerous. That was dangerous.
He was not happy to see me. I'm definitely a prisoner, not that I had much doubt over the situation. I may not understandwhy, but at least I knowwhatI am.
Goosebumps race up my arms and I rub them hard, wishing I was braver. Stronger. A lot sneakier, too. It would be nice if Icould just disappear. In fact, if that damn wolf—Fenris—hadn't come around in the forest, I'd be in the city by now.
Stupid, oversized, disloyal dog.
Three sharp knocks crack against the door and I jump as the red-haired Lycan walks inside, not waiting for me to answer.
His eyes flicker to the bed in a moment so brief, I'm not sure I actually see it happen.
"Miss Harper," he says, sounding indifferent to my fate, "You will come with me now."
