Grace of a Wolf-Chapter 30: Caine: Behaving Strangely

CAINE

There’s something strange about her tonight. She’s calmer than this morning, a little more assured, despite the familiar scent in her room. Storming down the hall, I snap at Fenris, Are you sure it’s him?

When have I ever mistaken a scent? It’s the wolf who followed her when we first met. His irritation only feeds mine, like a cloud of dark energy following behind.

No new injuries marred her skin, no fresh bruises. At least there’s that. But that doesn’t explain the scent of another wolf in her room. A Blue Mountain wolf. One who shouldn’t dare approach...

"Damn it. She’s driving me crazy."

It will only get worse if you keep denying our connection to her.

The tattoos on my neck burn, and I lift my upper lip in a snarl. "Everything will be fine once I settle things." The others were right; she’s a victim, not a prisoner. And yet I can’t bring myself to send her back to human society.

She’s been under Brax’s thumb for six years. There are things she needs in order to survive as a human. A driver’s license. A place to live. Money. Food. A job.

The more I think of, the worse it feels to even consider sending her back to the humans. At least if I brought her with us, she would have shelter, food, and never have to work again...

Shit. Fenris is messing with my thoughts again. Now I’m even considering bringing her to our pack, as if a human could ever survive surrounded by Lycans.

I want nothing more than peace in my head again. Peace without this obsessive need to surround myself in the aroma of blueberry muffins fresh out of the oven. Without imagining how her hair would feel between my fingers. Without wondering what her skin tastes like.

My mind betrays me, conjuring an image of her bare beneath me, her skin flushed and warm beneath my touch. I see every curve, every soft plane of her body, exposed for my eyes alone, the vision so vivid I can almost feel her pulse beneath my—

Fuck.

I shake my head sharply, forcing the image away.

This obsession Fenris has forced upon me is disrupting everything. I’ve already killed for her, and I’m acting...

Strangely, Fenris agrees. I’m glad you’re finally seeing it.

"Because of you," I grumble.

No. Because you’re fighting what we both know is true. My mind is clear because I’ve accepted our connection with the human. You, on the other hand, seem perfectly willing to descend into madness with your denial.

"Ignoring a mate bond doesn’t cause madness. Some even reject their mates." Or so I’ve heard. I’ve never had much interest in the issue. One mate was enough.

You’re not a normal wolf. Or even a normal Lycan.

A grunt escapes my throat. The cost of the throne weighs heavy, its evidence marked on my skin in the form of tattoos. The separation between wolf and man comes at a steep price. It leaves me stripped of the natural balance other shifters enjoy.

Where they feel love, I feel possession. Where they feel protectiveness, I feel rage. Where they feel desire...

The gods gave you power, but they took your humanity in exchange.

I reach the end of the hall and turn, pacing back the way I came. The Blue Mountain shifter standing guard outside her door stiffens. It wasn’t his scent in her room, but he probably knows who it was.

But if I force an answer out of him, what am I going to do? Hunt the man down? Demand to know why he was visiting? The girl isn’t hurt; if I go around tyrannizing everyone who looks at her twice, the rumors will only grow. As if Jack-Eye’s nagging isn’t enough.

My hands curl into fists as I spin on my heel and stalk away again, cursing myself for being weak enough to go back in the first place. She won’t eat with me standing there, and she needs the sustenance. I have to give her space, even if I want to throw open the door and stand there, breathing in her scent for the next hour. Maybe three hours. A day. A week.

Forever? Fenris suggests.

No, damn it. She’s human. I killed Brax to uphold our laws; what would it say of me if I followed in his footsteps? I swore to uphold the law when I became King. I said I wouldn’t let power define me.

Being mated is a separate issue.

My teeth grind together as I tense my jaw. She isn’t our mate, Fenris. She’s human.

His tone turns calculating. I see. Tell me, then, how do you feel when you’re touching her?

The question stops me cold. My mind flashes back to this earlier—the soft skin of her wrist beneath my fingers, the gentle pulsing of her heart against my thumb. The way her scent surrounded me, letting me breathe freely for the first time since I tackled her onto the forest floor.

Peace. For that brief moment, there was peace in my mind.

Exactly, Fenris purrs, catching the edges of my thoughts. He’s like a snake, striking while I’m weak. If you want peace again, you need to get closer to her, not act like a feral beast who’s never been around a female. You’re scaring her off completely with your bizarre behavior.

"I don’t care if she’s scared. She won’t be around much longer, anyway." Maybe I can stretch out this investigation for a few more days, though. Just enough to get things settled for her in the human world, not because I want to keep her around.

It’s for her benefit. Not mine.

Hell—my pack can afford to subsidize an apartment for her. She’s a victim, after all. And if she’s in the apartment I’m paying for, I can keep an eye on her. Get her a job somewhere I know she’ll be safe. Somewhere without other men. Maybe I can convince her she doesn’t need to work; I’ll send her an allowance... Enough to keep her comfortable. Happy. Safe.

You’re an idiot if you think that’ll be enough. Just take her with us.