Grace of a Wolf-Chapter 68: Grace: What Are the Chances...?

Lyre’s pulled her phone out and frowned at it at least fifteen times in the past few minutes, driving me mildly batty.

My nurse fiddles with a new bag of IV fluids, having saved us from the incessant squawking of whatever machine they have attached to a pole. A few buttons beep, and clear fluid drips in steady rhythm once again.

I crane my neck around the nurse’s blue scrubs, trying to catch Lyre’s eye. What’s with all the phone checking? But she doesn’t notice my curiosity, her eyes fixed on whatever message is on her screen.

The nurse taps the IV bag once more. "All set, honey. Your fluids are running nice and steady now."

"Thanks," I mumble, distracted by my friend’s increasingly pinched expression.

"Just hit that call button if you need anything. Anything at all," the nurse chirps.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind her, Lyre finally looks up from her phone.

"What are the chances your boyfriend’s gotten himself kidnapped by the local pack?"

A laugh bubbles out of me. "Caine? Getting kidnapped?" The absurdity of it makes me laugh harder. "Maybe if they’re dragons in disguise."

But Lyre doesn’t join in. Her slitted eyes narrow further.

My laughter dies in my throat. "Wait. You’re not joking."

"I wouldn’t say I’m genuinely concerned." She taps her phone against her palm as she glances out the window. "More... cataloging unusual happenings."

My heart does a nauseating somersault. "What unusual happenings? Is he okay?"

"Well, up until an hour ago, he was incessantly messaging me for updates. Now it’s radio silence. I watched him leave with one of the local shifters. It’s a small pack, so it shouldn’t be a problem even if they act up, but..."

"I’m sure he’s fine." The brief flare of worry disappears. It’s Caine we’re talking about. The Lycan King. The local pack doesn’t stand a chance.

Lyre points her phone at me. "Confirming: it’s okay for me to stop worrying about him, right?"

I can’t help but laugh. She looks ridiculous, arching her brow as if she needs my permission. "Sure. You’re free to ignore all worries about his possible kidnapping."

"Okay," she says, sounding as if she’s warning me. "I’m washing my hands of it from this point on."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." My lips keep twitching as she lets out a long breath.

Then she slides her phone into her back pocket, her shoulders easing a little. "Okay. With that done, I’m afraid I need to run a few errands again."

I blink. "Again?"

"A girl’s got needs, Grace. Specifically..." She pauses, tilting her head. "Let’s say I have connections to check in with."

She reveals herself in fragments, each piece offered like a gift when the time is right. It better be worth it. Her cryptic rainbow personality isn’t exactly getting old, but... Yeah, it’s getting old.

She steps closer, scanning my face with her unsettling perception. "I don’t have to go if you’d rather I stay."

It’s been so long since anyone’s prioritized my comfort over their own agenda. First Caine breaking his own rules to protect me, now Lyre ready to postpone her plans if I need her. It’s enough to make a girl swoon.

Though, I guess I already did.

"Go," I wave my hand toward the door. "I’m fine. Better than fine."

I’m lying. My limbs feel like I’ve run a hundred marathons, and my brain is a little heavy after our conversation. A friend’s presence isn’t going to fix any of it, though.

A nap might.

Too bad this pillow is flatter than a folded sweatshirt. And it crinkles. So annoying.

"You sure? You don’t look fine."

"I’m sleepy, so I’m just going to pass out while you’re gone. It won’t be very fun to stick around."

Lyre studies me for a moment longer, then nods. "Okay. But if you need me—"

"I’ll call. Promise." She’s got my phone on the cabinet by my bed, charging so it doesn’t die on me.

"I won’t be gone long." She hesitates at the door, her hand on the knob. "Don’t do anything crazy when I’m not here."

A surprised laugh escapes me. "I’m held hostage by an IV pole and a hospital gown. If I try to get out of bed, everyone’s going to see my backside. I’m pretty sure I can’t get into any trouble here."

Lyre snickers at my reassurance and pulls the door open. I sink deeper into my pillows, ready to enjoy some quiet.

Not even two seconds pass before her rainbow-colored head pokes back through the doorway.

"One more thing. If wolf boy returns while I’m gone—no sex in the hospital bed."

My jaw unhinges. "Excuse me?"

"In fact," she continues, stepping back into the room completely, "don’t let him touch you. At all."

"Lyre, I’m hospitalized. Sex isn’t exactly on my to-do list right now."

She ignores me, stabbing a finger in my direction. "Consider the man a vampire. Bathe in garlic. Do whatever you need to, but don’t let him touch you."

Heat crawls up my neck. "Are you serious right now?" It’s not like I’m sex-starved. Things just kind of happened.

Her cat eyes gleam. "Your energy levels are barely above ’functioning human.’ One wolfy hand on you and you’ll flatline."

My lips twitch despite my embarrassment. "Where exactly am I supposed to get garlic in a hospital?"

"I don’t know. Call room service." She scowls. "Just do as I say, or I’m putting ’Fucked to death by a werewolf’ on your headstone."

A laugh bursts out before I can stop it, echoing in the sterile room. "You wouldn’t."

"Watch me." She flicks her rainbow hair over her shoulder. "I know a guy who does cemetery engravings."

"Of course you do." The image of some poor soul chiseling those words into granite sends me into another fit of giggles.

"I’m not joking, Grace. No touching Caine."

I snort. "Fine. No touching."

"Good girl." She shoots me finger guns before backing toward the door again. "Remember, garlic. Lots of it."

My lips twitch. "You know he’s not actually a vampire, right?"

Lyre’s laugh follows her out the door.