Page 61 of Grace of a Wolf 2
Sara's eyes go impossibly wider. "See? He kills anyone who hurts her! We're dead. We'resodead. Ron, make Bun stop eating Grace before we're all dinner."
"Stop it," Ron says firmly. "You're scaring Bun."
But Bun is past caring, her hunger tantrum reaching nuclear levels. She yanks my hair again with a wild, angry scream, and I somehow get her off my head and into my arms, facing out.
I'm genuinely bewildered and more than a little… lost. Between the feral toddler, the crazy rumors, and just—this place.
Am I supposed to be the adult managing this situation? Or should I just leave it be?
"When did you even hear aboutanyof this?" I ask, baffled.
Jer shrugs. "Everyone knows."
Bun chooses that moment to slam her head backward, catching me square in the chin. My eyes water.
"Damn it, Bun!" I gasp, tasting blood where I've bitten my tongue.
The toddler goes rigid in my arms, her eyes wide as dinner plates. Her entire body shudders, and for one horrifying moment, I think she's about to shift into something with claws while still in my arms.
Instead, she opens her mouth and lets out an ear-splitting wail.
"PAH!" she screams, pointing toward the cave entrance we can't see from this chamber.
"Pizza's here," Ron translates.
Sara and Jer bolt for the entrance.
I stand alone, still holding the suddenly cooperative Bun, my mind spinning.
How the hell did I go from pack outcast to shifter royalty in the span of days? And more importantly—does Caine know these rumors are spreading like wildfire?
Chapter twenty-eight
Grace: Honey, I'm Home
The kids race toward the entrance of the cave and I trail behind, arms sore from handling the little shifter tornado, who now twists in my grip at the promised arrival of food.
"Pah! Pah!" Bun chants, kicking her legs against my ribs as she giggles.
The exhaustion hits me in a wave. Between Bun's shifting frenzy, the bizarre rumors about Caine and me, and just the general chaos of being trapped in a cave with hyperactive shifter children—my body's tapped out. Done. Dead.
My hospital stay seems like a lifetime ago, and yet it's only been hours.
Owen staggers inside, arms loaded with the promised holy food, and Jer shouts, "Did you remember cheese?"
The man grunts, his eyes darting around the room until he sees me. Then he glances behind him.
He looks paler than when he left, a sheen of sweat visible on his forehead. The unflappable, impassive man is…
Nervous.
My stomach drops.
"Pizza!" Sara and Jer practically tackle him, grabbing at the boxes, oblivious. Despite their excitement, Owen remains rigid, jaw tight and eyes wide.
"What's wrong?" I ask, shifting Bun to my hip as she makes grabby hands toward the food.
Before Owen can answer, another figure steps into the chamber.
