Page 50 of Grace of a Wolf 1
I close my eyes, but that only makes it worse. His face appears in the darkness—those sharp cheekbones, the way his lips curve when he's amused. My heart speeds up.
"Get it together, Grace." I dig my nails into my palms until it hurts, irritated with my vapid thoughts. "He killed Alpha. He's probably killed hundreds of others. The man doesn't have a soul."
But my body doesn't seem to care about that little detail. Neither does my mind, apparently, since it keeps circling back to him like a moth to flame. Maybe it's a side effect of his alpha domination. Yeah, this theory makes sense. After all, my morality can't just change overnight.
My changed morality is even trying to insist he's not evil, just different. Shifter society doesn't hold the same standards and morals as humans do, and—no. Unacceptable.
It's not me who's changed. Thishasto be a side effect of his Lycan King-ness. Like a poison to the mind of humans.
I push off the window and collapse onto my bed with another bone-deep sigh. The mattress feels wrong without my pillow, empty and uncomfortable without a place to rest my head. I roll onto my side, curling into myself.
Where are the new pillows, anyway? Hopefully someone delivers them soon. I still can't understand why he would steal mine.
My chest tightens, and I swivel to my other side, facing the wall. This situation is so bizarre. One minute I'm cleaning floors, the next I'm apparently important enough to start a war over. And the so-called king is not helping with his mixed signals, treating me like he cares one second and like I'm a criminal the next.
"You're mine." I mimic his deep voice. "But also my prisoner. But also don't let anyone touch you. But also stay locked in this room. Pfft. How stupid."
The memory of his possessive grip makes my skin tingle pleasantly and I scrub my arms, trying to erase the sensation. I need an antidote for this before it gets worse. Avoiding him would probably help, too.
Being miles away would be even better. If I'd escaped properly the first time, Alpha wouldn't be dead, and I wouldn't have this struggle on my conscience. Yeah—this all would have been better if I'd made it to Sterling City like I planned.
Stupid Fenris ruined everything.
I sit up, my resolve hardening over the truth. My original plan was right. I need to leave—not just the pack, but this whole supernatural world. Find my place among humans where I belong. Humans don't belong in a pack. It's illegal, and I can see why.
"I'll start over. Get a job. An apartment. Maybe even go to college." My heart pumps hard as I re-imagine the dreams I'd held onto just one day ago. Yes, this is what I need to focus on. Not strange murderous Lycans with sexy tattoos.
Normal human things. Safe things. Things that don't end in bloodshed because I exist in the wrong place.
I press my palms against my eyes until stars burst behind my lids. It's the only logical solution. Whatever this thing is with Caine—this pull, this confusion—it doesn't matter. I refuse to be responsible for more death.
The human world is waiting. All I need is a plan. It can't be haphazard like the last one, but I'm sure I'll find a way somehow.
Chapter twenty-six
Grace: A Suspicious Hand
Aseries of knocks jerks me out of a dream involving a lot of naked skin, among other details I have no business recalling. I wipe a trail of drool from my cheek. "Gross."
Another knock.
"Come in." My voice comes out scratchy. Clearing my throat, I sit up on my bed, wondering who it is.
My entire body stiffens as Andrew steps through the doorway. His limp brown hair falls into his eyes and something about hisexpression is strange, but what catches my attention is the pillow in his hands.
"What are you doing here?" Despite him obviously being here to deliver what I need, the words come out defensive. I was glad to see he was alive earlier, but it doesn't mean I wanted to see him in person. I just didn't want to recognize another body on the pile.
"Delivering this." He holds up the pillow like a peace offering, but his eyes are intense as they look me over. "Lycan King's orders."
My fingers twitch with the urge to snatch it from him.
"Just toss it over here," I say, waving airily at the other side of my bed, aiming for nonchalance despite how desperately I want it. My neck hurts from the impromptu nap I took without one.
Andrew hesitates, his eyes darting around the room. "You… Are you okay?"
My eyes narrow at Andrew's question. Something's off about his visit—the Lycan King wouldn't send him of all people to deliver a pillow, would he? Fenris should recognize him from their encounter during the Mate Hunt.
Then again, I'm acting like the Lycan King cares about me. He probably hasn't thought twice about a wolf as insignificant as Andrew. Even if Rafe came in here, I'm sure he wouldn't bat an eye…
