Grace of a Wolf-Chapter 31: Caine: A Fool or a King

CAINE

Fenris’s response makes me realize what I’m thinking and I groan, driving my fist into the nearest wall again. It’s a new habit, developed about ten minutes ago. The plaster crumbles under my knuckles, leaving a crater the size of my hand. "Fuck. You’re in my head again."

I most certainly am not, Fenris replies, his voice dripping with disdain. I would never put such idiotic thoughts in your head. My goal has always been to keep the girl with us, in our pack—not set her up in some pathetic human apartment like a kept woman.

The truth in his words stings worse than my knuckles. These thoughts—this obsession with providing for her, protecting her from afar—they’re mine alone, turning me into a hypocrite. I killed Brax for breaking our laws, didn’t I?

"What the hell is happening to me?" I demand of my wolf, grateful this section of the lodge is empty. Talking to the air isn’t uncommon in a pack—we all have arguments with our wolves, and they aren’t always confined to our heads—but it’s not the kind of conversation I want others overhearing.

What’s happening is that you’re fighting your instincts while pretending it’s my influence. It’s exhausting to watch.

I press my forehead against the wall with a groan. "She’s human, Fenris." If she wasn’t, this would all be easier. I still couldn’t take her as a mate, but at least it would give me options...

The universe doesn’t follow your rigid little rules, Caine.

Blood rushes in my ears as frustration surges. "The laws exist for a reason. Humans and shifters don’t mix—they never have."

There are precedents.

"Like Brax?" My mocking laughter echoes through the empty corridor. "His mate ran away. Humans don’t belong in a pack."

It’s likely her mother was not Brax’s fated mate. Or if she was, he treated her so terribly she felt life was better without him. It says more about Brax than it does about her human mother.

"Assumptions," I mutter, but I don’t have the heart to say things like maybe her mom was the problem. I’ve met Brax. There’s no way a human woman was the problem. "It doesn’t matter. The girl will return to human society where she belongs, and that’s final."

Then why haven’t you sent her already? Why obsess over her injuries, her meals, her comfort?

My jaw clenches. "I’m gathering information."

You’re stalling.

"I’m being thorough!"

You’re being a coward.

A growl rips from my throat.

The truth hurts, doesn’t it? Fenris continues, relentless. You’re terrified of what she makes you feel. Of how your control slips every time you’re near her. Of the possibility that the Lycan King might actually need someone.

"Enough. You’ve pushed too far."

And you haven’t pushed far enough. All this solitude made you forget what connection feels like. You’re so scared of repeating the past that you can’t see what’s right in front of you.

The burn of my tattoos intensifies, spreading across my neck and down my spine like liquid fire. Fenris is pulling away, separating himself from our shared consciousness.

I’m going to rest, he announces, his voice growing distant. Later, I’ll visit the girl myself.

"You will do no such thing," I snarl, but I can feel him receding, retreating to a place within me where I cannot follow.

It’s becoming pointless for me to see her when my Bonded keeps destroying whatever progress I make. I bring her comfort; you bring her terror. I offer warmth; you offer threats. And then you wonder why she’s scared of you.

I flinch.

I am your other half, your balance—and lately, the only one of us with any sense.

The burn of the tattoos diminishes as Fenris retreats deeper, severing our mental connection. I’m left alone in the hallway, my breathing heavy, staring at a cracked wall.

Fine. That furry bastard’s right about one thing—I’ve been stalling. But it’s not fear driving me. It’s practicality, damn it. The girl needs protection, and I need information. I can’t in good conscience send her out without making sure she has everything she needs.

We both saw what was in her backpack. I have no idea how she thought she was going to survive with just her meager stash of supplies, but the girl is ignorant of the world, sheltered due to Brax’s selfishness.

It’s my job to keep her here, safe under my watch, until I can set her free.

At least, that’s what I tell myself as I storm off once more, ignoring the pull urging me to go see her again, to breathe in her scent.

Maybe the truth is more complicated than I’m willing to admit. Maybe I feel a little of the pull Fenris keeps existing is between us. Maybe, just maybe, I want to hold on to that little human, too, desperate for a peace only her scent can bring me.

But that doesn’t make her my mate. It makes her a liability. A weakness I cannot afford.

The kingdoms of men rise and fall on the backs of such weaknesses. How many have crumbled because they placed their hearts above their duty? How many packs have dissolved into chaos when their alphas chose passion over reason?

I reach the end of the corridor and pause, looking out the window at the Blue Mountain territory stretching before me. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting long shadows across the land. A land now without its alpha, thrown into turmoil because of a girl who smells like blueberry muffins.

If I were wise, I’d send her away tonight. Put her on a bus to Sterling City with enough money to start a new life. Cut this strange connection before it grows any stronger.

But wisdom has never been my strong suit. And Fenris is right about another thing—I’m not sending her anywhere until I understand exactly what’s happening between us.

Whether that makes me a fool or a king remains to be seen.