Grace of a Wolf-Chapter 35: Grace: Blonde

My hair is blonde, and it’s weird.

For whatever reason, I hear Caine’s voice in my head. "Your hair is brown," he’d said. A mere observation, not even a compliment, but for a second I mourn my generic brown hair.

"The toner helped with the brassiness, but it still isn’t perfect." Lyre runs her fingers through my hair with a soft click of her tongue. "Virgin hair is so nice to work with. It’s so soft even after lightening."

Andrew scratches at his cheek, his eyes darting everywhere except my face. "It, uh, looks pretty good."

"Thanks," I mutter, uncomfortable with his awkwardness. His crush doesn’t seem completely gone if he can’t meet my eyes over a simple compliment.

My attention drifts back to the mirror on the camper’s bathroom wall.

A stranger stares back at me. The blonde frames my face differently, catching light where shadows used to be. I twist a strand between my fingers, still damp and smelling of chemicals. My reflection looks alien.

I can’t stop touching it, running my fingers through the strands, flipping it side to side. The weight feels different. Everything feels different.

Lyre said it would be lighter after it dries, but something about solar power and batteries means she can’t run her hair dryer.

"So?" She leans against the doorframe, eyes bright with anticipation. "Do you like it?"

"I honestly don’t know." My hand drops from my hair. "But I definitely would’ve botched it without your help."

She waves a hand about airily. "It isn’t really that hard to do. Just need the right products and a bit of patience."

We shuffle out of the cramped bathroom and into the dinette—a small table with bench seating crammed against her kitchen counter. I slide in first, pressing myself against the wall to make room for Andrew. The space between us and the counter can’t be more than ten inches.

"Sorry it’s tight." Lyre squeezes past to grab three glasses. "Always harder to move around when the slides are in."

My eyes follow her gesture toward the back half of the RV, which looks practically inaccessible. "What are slides?"

"Parts of the RV that extend outward." Lyre sets down the glasses and pours water from a filtered pitcher. "They give you more living space inside. But when they’re extended, I hang over into neighboring parking spaces, so I don’t do it unless I have to. When I’m renting a space it’s fine, but parking lots are a different matter. But it’s free, so I can’t complain."

Andrew shifts beside me, checking his watch as she hands us each a glass of water. "Actually, Grace, we should probably get going. We’ve stayed longer than we should have."

Lyre rests her chin on her hand, observing us with her strange, slitted eyes. I fiddle with the glass, not answering Andrew. He’s right about the time, but I’m oddly reluctant to leave this tiny, colorful haven.

I’ve known this woman for all of an hour, yet there’s something about her—something free and untethered, calling to the part of me that’s been controlled my entire life.

"You could come with me, you know." Lyre’s voice breaks through my thoughts.

My head snaps up, my heart suddenly thumping faster in my chest. "What?"

"You can come with me. I want to visit Yellowstone, so I’m headed that way tomorrow. I’ve got a friend there with some land and full hook-ups, so I can stay a while if I want to." She traces a pattern on the tabletop with her finger without looking, her eyes on mine. "You’d be welcome to tag along."

Yellowstone. It’s a national park; I’ve seen pictures of it. And it’s really far from here, putting a massive amount of distance between me and anyone with fur.

"Absolutely not," Andrew says, glancing at me. His voice lowers. "Don’t forget, Rafe’s coming soon."

Ugh. This is why I didn’t want Andrew to stick around.

Lyre’s eyebrows rise, but she doesn’t seem particularly offended. "Just offering." She shrugs, the gesture fluid and unconcerned, and sips at her water.

"Sorry. I’m not trying to be rude. We appreciate your help, but we have plans. And we don’t know you very well." Andrew’s polite, at least, as he explains things to her.

"Fair enough." She smiles at me, not him. "The offer stands though. Especially if those plans aren’t really what you want to do."

I open my mouth, not even sure what I’m going to say, when Andrew’s hand presses lightly on my arm.

"We really should go," he murmurs.

If he wasn’t here, I know I’d take her up on the offer, but Andrew—

Wait. So what if Andrew’s right here? It isn’t like I’m obligated to follow along with their ridiculous plan of bringing me back to the Blue Mountain Pack. In fact, I never planned on playing long with their plan to begin with. Andrew was always just a means out of there.

I square my shoulders, my shirt damp against my back, thanks to my wet hair. Something about the chemical smell lingering on my skin feels like a transformation—like shedding my old life.

"I want to come with you," I tell Lyre, my voice louder than I meant for it to be. "To Yellowstone. If you really don’t mind."

The words hang in the cramped air. For a split second, I feel weightless, like I’ve jumped off a cliff and haven’t started falling yet. It’s even better than when I tried to escape the first time; it feels as if I can reach out and touch the light at the end of my dark and twisted tunnel of life.

"Grace!" Andrew jumps up, but his thighs slam into the underside of the table. Water sloshes over the rim of his glass and he drops back into his seat, rubbing his legs as he curses, "Shit!"

Lyre’s slitted eyes widen slightly, but her expression remains neutral as she watches our exchange.

"You can’t be serious," Andrew hisses at me, snatching at my forearm. "What about Rafe?"

I yank my arm from his grip. The mention of Rafe’s name hardens something inside me—calcifies all the doubts swirling through my mind. Lyre might even be the kind of person who lures innocent girls out of stores only to sell them later, but I’m taking my chances.

"I have absolutely no interest in returning to the pack, Andrew. Not for Rafe. Not for anyone."

Andrew’s lips press together, his face dark. "The plan—"

"Was never my plan. It was yours and Ellie’s, remember? You should go back, Andrew."

"Grace, you don’t understand what you’re doing." His voice drops even lower, eyes darting to Lyre and back to me. "The Lycan King—" freёnovelkiss.com

"Killed Brax." The words emerge flat and factual. "I know. I was there."

"Then you know what he’s capable of!" Andrew leans closer. "And he’s fixated on you. If you disappear now—"

"That’s exactly why I need to disappear. You being here isn’t going to help me. It isn’t like you can win against him."

He flinches.

I press my palms against the cool table. "I’m out now. I’m going to live my life on my terms. You aren’t a part of my life. Neither is Rafe. You should go back to the pack. You belong there, don’t you?"

Andrew’s jaw tightens, his hands curling into fists. "That’s not fair, Grace."

A bitter laugh escapes me. "Was it fair when Rafe abandoned me during the Mate Hunt? Was it fair when Alpha threw me to the omegas? Was it fair when Ellie tormented me every chance she got?

"I’m done with fair. I’m done with all of it. You’ve been kinder than most, but you’re still theirs. Not mine."

Andrew’s face falls. "I thought we were friends, Grace."