Page 71 of Grace of a Wolf 1
Lyre smiles, revealing teeth that seem just a touch too sharp. "I have no interest in hurting you, Grace. You're far more interesting alive."
Andrew makes a strangled noise. "You can't be serious. Grace, listen to yourself!"
"You should go back, Andrew. Before they notice you're missing too."
"I'm not leaving you with—"
"You are." My voice hardens. "Because this is my choice. Not yours, not Rafe's, not Ellie's. Mine."
Andrew stares at me, frustration evident in every line of his body. His jaw works as if chewing on words he wants to spit out.
Lyre scoots out of the dinette, stretching her lithe body as she stands. "So when do you want to leave? I'm flexible."
"Now would be best." The words come out without my bidding, and I press my lips together, embarrassed. "I mean, if that works for you. I'm not in a position to make demands."
A small smile plays on her lips as she nods. "Now works. Just need to batten down the hatches."
She moves through the cramped space with the fluid grace of someone who knows exactly where every inch of their body is. Her hands reach up to unhook a macramé plant hanger, carefully cradling the vine trailing from it.
"Have to secure everything before driving," she explains, gently arranging the plant into what looks like a modified kitchen cupboard. "Otherwise it all becomes projectiles the first time I hit the brakes."
Andrew's hand clamps around my forearm again, his fingers digging into the same spot he'd grabbed earlier. The pressure makes me wince. "Grace—"
"Get your hand off her or you're going to lose it." Lyre doesn't even turn around, just continues methodically securing her plants. The calm in her voice makes the threat more chilling.
Andrew's grip falters but doesn't release. His breath comes faster beside me, and I can feel his indecision. It isn't fear, but he seems worried. Probably thinks if he pisses me off, Rafe's going to yell at him—but also if he lets me leave, Rafe's going to yell at him.
Lyre places another plant into the cabinet, her movements unhurried. "The decision's been made. Either you get out, or I'll kick you out."
The growl rumbling from Andrew's chest is pure animal—a sound I've heard countless times in six years. My heart thunders in my chest, but I refuse to cower. I've had enough of being controlled.
Sliding out of the dinette, I shake my arm violently until he finally lets it go. "Let me help you, Lyre."
For a moment, I think Andrew might lunge at me—his body tenses, his face contorting. But the moment passes. He stands, shoulders tight and fists clenched.
"Rafe will come for you," he says, voice low and rough. "Hopefully you'll be a little calmer by then."
My brows fly up. "Am I not calm?"
His nostrils flare. "You have no idea what you're doing."
He acts like he's capable of fighting off an army to keep me safe, yet even Alpha and Beta fell under the might of the Lycans. It didn't take very long, either. "At least it's my mistake to make."
For several tense moments, Andrew just stands there. His breathing grows heavier, more labored, like he's physically restraining himself from shifting. Huffing and snarling under his breath, he finally stomps toward the door.
The entire RV shakes with the force of his exit, the door slamming so hard that one of Lyre's dreamcatchers swingswildly from its hook. The sudden motion makes my stomach lurch—a strange, mingled sensation of physical disorientation and emotional whiplash.
Lyre's hand lands gently on my shoulder. "It'll be fine."
The simple statement, delivered without drama or excessive reassurance, is strangely calming. I let out a long breath.
"I'm sorry for bringing drama to your door. You just met me and now you're dealing with... this." Grabbing a cactus off the kitchen counter, I hand it to her. Offering to help was impulsive, but there's one problem—I don't know where anything goes or how to secure a camper for travel. I've never even been in one before today.
She takes the plant from me, securing it in a holder bolted to the wall. "I'm the one who invited it in." Her voice is light, almost amused.
"You couldn't have known—"
"Couldn't I?" She glances at me, slitted eyes narrowing slightly. "I saw you with him in the store. I knew exactly what you were running from."
