Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 176: Caine: Where's the Cat?

CAINE

Grace seems calmer, but she’s still a little too fidgety and pale for my liking.

| sigh. | had been planning on moving us out tonight, at least a little farther so we could get off the road. Now,

I'm wondering if we should stay here overnight and leave in the morning.

We should leave soon, Fenris says. Before one of those human cops shows up.

| leave her in the bedroom to relax, feeling the weight of her silence like an uncomfortable boulder pushing down

a part of my soul.

What the hell kind of trauma does she carry to trigger such a terrible response? She wasn’t even this afraid after

| took over her pack, or when I'd cto her in the forest—though, thinking back on the memory only serves to

make my heart twist into an awkward, guilt-ridden pretzel.

| was so angry at the idea of a human mate—irritated by the idea of another mate at all—and took it out on her,

furious she dared to be so alluring with her blueberry muffin scent and pretty green eyes.

I'm not exactly known for my gentle touch, but I'm learning. At the very least, I'd never tie her up in a forest

again. Or yank at her hair. Or choke her...

Damn it. Fenris is right. Considering our history, it's a miracle she doesn’t run screaming every tshe sees my

face.

| told you.

Hindsight is a terrible thing.

| pinch the bridge of my nose, annoyed by the headache I've been fighting since earlier this morning.

It's the cat. It has to be the cat making her feel so strange. Let's get rid of it.

"l can’t do that."

Why not?

Because if | get rid of the cat now, she'll think I lied about not being angry. She'll think I'm punishing her.

| rub both hands over my face, roughly scrubbing away the faint exhaustion after a long day with these children

and now my terrified, pale-faced mate.

But you are angry, Fenris points out, and | hate how he knowstoo well.

I'm not angry about the cat. I'm angry she put herself in danger.

After all, what if it hadn't been just srandom cat? What if it had been something worse?

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But now it's impossible to say anything, and | already told her a bunch of bullshit about how I'm not mad and I'm

not going to lecture her.

| have to stand by my word.

Maybe you can take this tto reprogram your personality, Fenris suggests oh-so-helpfully.

"Fuck off, Fenris."

"Fah!" Bun squeals, a half-second after me.

She's on the floor with the damn dog, who seems content with her life as a toddler's toy.

| frown. It isn’t as if we have any strict rules on swearing around pups in the pack, but it still sounds off-putting to

hear a toddler repeat words she shouldn't even be hearing.

"No more swearing in front of Bun," | announce to the room at large.

Three sets of eyes turn my way, and all three of those children look dumbfounded.

Jer’s the first to speak up. "You're the only one who swears."

"Yeah," Sara chimes in. "We're good kids. We don’t swear." But then she looks at my face, blanches, and turns

away with a mumble. "Most of the time."

She seems to be afraid | can sense her lie. It's a useful fear, but I'm not sure what to do about the girl. She gets

closer, but then returns to inexplicable states of fear around me. Perhaps it just takes time. I've heard girls are

more sensitive.

"Owen's never allowed them to swear," Ron explains from his position on the floor beside Bun as she plays a

drumbeat on Sadie’s back.

There’s only one thing missing.

My eyes narrow as | look them over. "Where's the cat?"

Jer and Sara exchange glances, and it isn’t subtle at all. "What cat?"

My left eyebrow twitches. Do these two really think they can pretend a cat doesn’t exist?

But they don’t bend under the pressure, even though both Sara and Jer look away, unable to keep eye contact.

"Where is the cat, kids?"

"Meow," Bun says proudly, cat ears sprouting from her head. She dashes to me, forgetting about the dog as she

holds both hands up in a silent demand.

"Is she the cat you're talking about?" Jer ask, with an exaggerated face of surprise. "It's just our sweet Bun. She

loves to be cat-Bun."

"Meow!"

"Yeah, Bun loves to be a cat. She was a cat the entire tyou were gone. Right, Ron?" Sara says, sounding

higher pitched than normal.

The older kid pushes himself off the floor and takes his favored seat on the couch with a sigh. "Don’t drag me

into this."

| cross my arms and lean against the kitchen counter, watching in amusement as these children scramble to sell

their story. They're terrible liars. They'll have to learn to do better.

Sara hisses, "Help us out for once!"

"No."

Bun stares at me, her enormous eyes

wide and unblinking. Her little hand

reaches up to pat tEhat, om

exploring the Yekture between her

fingers. Then she touches her own

head, her tiny fingers brushing over

the cat ears that have sprouted there.

She frowns.

Then she returns her attention to my head, patting around for matching ears. She looks confused.

"We told you! Bun is the cat. See? Look at her ears!" Jer says, after being elbowed by Sara.

She nods vigorously beside him. "Yeah! She’s been doing cat all afternoon. She's really good at it."

"Meow," Bun adds helpfully. She pats my head again, clearly troubled by my ear deficiency.

| sigh, the sound dragging from deep in my chest. Bun mimics it immediately, her tiny shoulders rising and

falling in exaggerated imitation.

"Ron. Where's the cat?"

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He doesn’t even look at me, instead choosing to rest his head on the back of his seat, arms crossed as he

relaxes. "It’s under the sink."

"Traitor!" Jer shouts.

Sara's face screws up. "We had a pact!"

Ron shrugs one shoulder, still without looking. "It was a stupid pact."

| walk smoothly to the kitchen sink,

Bun still balanced on my hip. The

cabdoor comes pan, Er ry

hen ahd Sure Shough, a giant white

cat is crouched behind the pipes and

cleaning products, filling up the

space. The content is on

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It's a surprisingly large cabinet, and yet this cat fills the space. I'm not entirely certain how the children got it in

there.

But more importantly, it's not a normal cat, the sway Sadie isn’t a normal dog. It blinks slowly, unfazed by

my alpha presence.

"Cout," | tell the animal, keeping my voice level. "Now."

It slinks out with lithe grace and

winds around my [Erol ar

gon tharmodEd mesticated cats,

and looks strangely familiar. The

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the latest chapter there!