Grace of a Wolf (by Lenaleia) novel Chapter 220

Chapter 220: Grace: Princess

In the end, the rest of the day passes without further incident.

No clarifying update appears on my phone, either, leaving me exasperated. And Caeriel hasn’t answered any of the ten messages I’ve sent his way, asking for an explanation on the gibberish he calls a new mission.

He wants me to do it quickly, but how can I do it without any information at all?! 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

The App is as cryptic as he is!

But now we have clean laundry, and Super Nanny—whose name, I remember now, is Randy-not-Randall—is not only fantastic with the children, but even conjured a savory and aromatic beef stew out of nowhere, making it so I don’t even have to worry about dinner.

After peacefully restocking dressers and showering the children, Super Nanny even has the kitchen cleaned and dishes done. Dylan, meanwhile, has cleaned the litter box every time the cat uses it, and takes Sadie out every thirty minutes to run around in the grass. He’s even thoughtfully picked up her little chocolate doggy bomb out of the yard from this morning.

It’s all so very peaceful, so very peaceful...

And it makes my skin crawl.

Every time I pick up anything weighing more than a piece of paper, there’s a Lycan there to grab it from me and offer their help. Randy doesn’t seem to have the slightest hint of an ulterior motive whatsoever, just perfectly content to play babysitter while I sit around and watch him do it.

Dylan, on the other hand, is very clearly judgmental of every move I make, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t exactly like me. But he treats me well and hasn’t slipped once in his treatment of me.

Andrew, on the other hand... no idea what he’s doing. They wouldn’t let him in.

But since this is his pack and territory, I’m pretty sure he’s fine. Maybe.

Even if there is a niggling sense of doubt and worry making its way into my head, along with a healthy heaping of reluctant responsibility. After all, the man said he basically gave up his pack to be my friend; only a complete dick wouldn’t feel a little guilty after hearing that.

By ten, my brain is in shambles and Bun’s turned into a couch-hopping banshee with bunny ears and a golden retriever’s tail. Dylan and Randy haven’t even blinked at her odd shifting, and Sara and Jer are comfortable enough to be their normal selves in front of them.

Jer even managed to get the more reticent Dylan into an entire conversation about how pterodactyls and crocodiles are basically, in a weird way, cousins. I’m not entirely certain I believe him, but the kid’s so convincing I kind of think he might be right, too.

If he’s not, then he probably has a great future as a car salesman.

I gnaw on a piece of beef jerky—something Dylan brought, not the kind in packages we bought at Walmart—as my mind bounces around all these things taking up prime anxiety real estate.

Well... not the pterodactyls or crocodiles. But the rest, yes.

Though watching Bun—all rabbit ears, golden retriever tail, and pure manic toddler energy—temporarily pushes everything else aside.

"One!" she shrieks, leaping from the left cushion.

"Two!" she announces proudly, landing on the right.

Is it just me, or is her speech improving at an unusual rate? I need a parenting book.

The rhythm of her jumps and shouts has almost lulled me into a meditative state when the door swings open with enough force to make me jolt upright, jerky hanging forgotten from my mouth.

For a split second, I’m worried it’s Rafe again, even though logically I know it’s impossible because we locked the door.

But no, it isn’t Rafe at all. It’s Ron, and his usually stoic face is flushed, his eyes bright with inner fire. He even looks an inch or two taller all of a sudden, though it might be the suit he’s wearing.

I did not send him to bring-your-son-to-work-day in a suit. No idea where he got it. Caine, obviously, but still—where?! I used to live here, and we don’t exactly have a plethora of suit stores.

He barely spares a glance for Dylan and Randy, so I guess he already knew they were here. Makes sense, if he was by Caine’s side all day.

But what happened to my aloof teenage boy and why did a young man walk through my door?

"Ron!" Bun screams, abandoning her cushion game instantly with her arms stretched toward him.

He strides forward and scoops her up in one fluid motion, swinging her high as she shrieks with delight, completely unguarded. "Bun-Bun! Did you miss me?"

Jer and Sara converge on him like excited puppies, practically bouncing off the floor.

"Did you fight anyone?" the younger boy demands, eyes wide with bloodthirsty curiosity.

"Did Caine make you howl at the moon?" Sara cuts in, not waiting for an answer to Jer’s question.

My face freezes into a weird expression. I can feel my mouth smiling, but I know my eyebrows are twitching like crazy. "Why would they howl at the moon, Sara?"

She rolls her eyes at me with such exaggeration, I almost feel offended. "Duh, they’re wolves, Grace. Wolves howl at the moon."

Oh, silly me.

I roll my eyes back, but she tosses her head back to Ron. "Well? Did you?"

He laughs. "No, and no."

"What’s with the suit? Are you, like, a prince now?" Jer asks, grabbing Ron’s sleeve and tugging. "Because Caine’s like a king, right? So that makes you a prince!"

"Uh—"

Sara gasps dramatically, one hand flying to her chest as her red eyes go wide. "If Ron’s a prince.. Does that make me a princess?"

Then she grabs Ron’s other arm, shaking it urgently. "I need to know, Ron. This is important for my future. Am I a princess?"

Ron rolls his eyes, but there’s no hiding the smile tugging at his mouth. "No, squirt. That’s not how it works."

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