Grace of a Wolf-Chapter 16: Grace: What’s His

Mine.

The world buzzes in my ears, and time seems to slow.

Alpha’s standing now, veins protruding from his neck as he shouts at the Lycan King. Ellie’s yanking on Rafe’s arm, but he isn’t looking at her. He’s looking at me, his blue eyes dark and angry, as if I’ve somehow done something wrong.

My wrists and legs hurt where the rope still bites into my skin; there’s no doubt I’m the king’s captive, not anything he considers precious. And yet there’s my brain, lost and stuttering over his words.

Let me see who dares touch what’s mine.

Me? His?

My eyes return to the Lycan King, the source of this mess. His back is to me as he confronts my pack.

Muscles ripple beneath his shirt, each movement deliberate and controlled. The black ink of his tattoos shifts across his skin; at first, I thought of them as serpentine and slithery, but right now I can see they’re more like soft ropes of shadow caressing his skin. The patterns almost dance, mesmerizing in their fluid grace.

A bead of sweat rolls down Alpha’s temple as sound slowly comes back into focus, no longer buzzing in my ears. "High Alpha! What claim could you possibly have on this human?"

The Lycan King’s shoulders tense, his head tilting ever so slightly. "You dare demand explanations from me? Tell me, Brax, what gives you the right to question your king?"

Alpha lowers his head in submission. "High Alpha, I do not mean to demand anything—I only ask for clarification." His words are polite, but his words come through gritted teeth.

Murmurs ripple through the crowd as the tension rackets up. And who turned the thermostat up to ninety? It’s so hot, it feels like noon in midsummer.

"I was the one. Grace and I have been dating for years." Rafe’s voice cuts through the crowd as he strides forward, chin lifted high, every bit the entitled future alpha he was raised to be—but he looks like a child playing hero to my eyes, incomparable to the Lycan King standing before us.

"Rafe, stop!" Ellie’s hiss carries even over the murmuring crowd. Perfectly manicured nails dig into his forearm. "You’re making a scene. Think about what you’re doing."

Rafe shakes her off, never once glancing back—his eyes are still locked on mine.

"Don’t you dare humiliate me like this." Ellie’s whisper carries the edge of a growl. "Not in front of everyone. Not for that."

The ink beneath the Lycan King’s skin darkens, like storm clouds gathering before lightning strikes. His fingers flex at his sides, and I can’t tear my eyes from the way the shadows seem to follow his movements, as if the tattoos themselves share his fury.

"You claim what’s mine?" The king asks, his words more growled than spoken.

Rafe’s arrogant saunter pauses; his blue eyes tear away from me to focus on the alpha of alphas and king of wolves, finally seeming to understand he’s in danger.

He frowns, sweeping a hand in my general direction. "She’s part of our pack, High Alpha. Unmated and unclaimed. If any claim was made, it would have been mine."

"The boy speaks truth, High Alpha." Brax’s voice carries an edge of desperation beneath his usual authority. "Your words suggest you’ve laid claim without cause. As if she were your..." He swallows hard, then continues without finishing. "Their relationship predates your arrival."

My throat burns where the Lycan King’s fingers pressed moments ago, and I wish these damn ropes were no longer holding me here. If I had the chance, I would run—as far and as fast as I can, away from this place.

Danger. It’s dangerous here, and the king is about to explode.

I don’t understand why, but I understand this: There’s no way I’m going to be unscathed in the crossfire of his temper.

"She was involved with this..." The Lycan King’s lip curls as he regards Rafe. "This pup. But that’s ended now, hasn’t it, Brax?"

Alpha nods so fast I worry his head might detach. "Yes, High Alpha. Ended when he found his true mate." He gestures to Ellie, who smiles tightly, her fingers still digging into Rafe’s arm, like talons holding onto her prey.

The king’s voice drops to a soft rumble. "And you’re certain this arrogant pup understands it is ended?"

The question hangs in the air. Rafe’s shoulders square, but I catch the slight tremor in his hands. His earlier bravado cracks under the weight of the king’s attention.

"I—" Rafe starts, but Ellie’s sharp nails dig into his arm.

"Of course he understands," she declares loudly. "Tell him, Rafe. Tell him it’s over."

Rafe’s mouth opens and closes, caught between Ellie’s demands and the king’s scrutiny. For the first time since I’ve known him, he looks small. Finally, he lowers his head. "Yes, High Alpha. It is over. Ellie is my fated mate, found during the Mate Hunt."

The air thickens, pressing against my skin like a physical weight. My bound legs buckle, and I fall backward onto my butt with an undignified thump. A wave of pure dominance rolls through the room, and wolves drop to their knees left and right.

"You have laid your claim, and yet you dare touch what’s mine?" The king’s voice thunders through the hall. The shadows of his tattoos writhe beneath his skin, no longer fluid but sharp and jagged.

My chest constricts. Each breath comes shorter than the last as the pressure builds. But something’s off—the others are gasping, clawing at their throats. Even Beta crashes to his knees, his face twisted in submission. Ellie follows, then Rafe, then Alpha. One by one, they fall like dominoes.

The Lycans at the broken table remain sitting. Watching. Unfazed.

And me? Sure, my heart pounds against my ribs, and sweat beads on my forehead, but I’m not choking like the others. The king’s power feels more like a heavy blanket than the crushing force that’s brought an entire pack of shifters to their knees.