Grace of a Wolf-Chapter 64: Grace: My Fault

Lyre keeps pulling out her phone and frowning. At first, I thought it was her way of avoiding more conversation about my parents and my identity.

Turns out I was wrong. Lyre’s shameless enough to refuse to answer questions outright, without excuses. Remembering her past frustration over not being able to give me clear answers, I’m starting to wonder if maybe...

I don’t know. It’s weird.

Maybe she really can’t tell me some things. She’s said as much, so it isn’t too far-fetched of an idea, but it seems like there’s something keeping her from spilling everything she knows.

Lyre’s phone gives another annoying ding. She scoffs, glaring at the screen before shoving it into her pocket with more force than necessary.

"Something wrong?"

She waves a dismissive hand through the air. "Your boyfriend’s headed out to greet the local alpha."

"He’s not my—" The denial sticks in my throat again, because... well. Then my mind catches up with the rest of her sentence. "Wait, what?"

"Your Lycan King has deigned to socialize with the local pack. Progress, I suppose."

My stomach drops. The image of Caine splattered with blood and surrounded by bodies flashes through my mind. "Is he going to kill everyone here too?"

The moment the words leave my mouth, I realize how blunt—and ridiculous—they sound. But Lyre doesn’t seem offended. Instead, her catlike eyes narrow and she tilts her head back, looking at me as if I’m some strange specimen on display at a museum.

"What makes you think he’s going to kill anyone?"

"I mean..." Sure, Caine hasn’t exactly been super murderous around me since then. Especially when things got steamy between us. But the memory of that night is going to be branded in my brain forever. The snarls. The screams. The wet, meaty sounds of violence I tried so hard not to hear.

My body yearns for him, and he might be my fated mate for some strange reason, but ultimately, he’s still... who he is. I’m still wrapping my head around the idea a killer can genuinely care for someone.

"He started massacred my pack." Wait. Now it sounds like he killed everyone. "Some of them."

"Hmm." Lyre stretches, yawning widely. Her slightly sharp teeth glint in the light. "Tell me, what kind of person do you think the current king is?"

"Mass murderer." My answer comes without hesitation or thought. No consideration, no moment of reflection. It’s hard to shake first impressions, I guess.

She snorts, then coughs, patting at her chest as she clears her throat. "Okay. And what does that make you? The girl who let a murderer into her pants?"

Prickling heat suffuses my cheeks. My shoulders slump as I groan, "Shameless. I’m pretty sure I’m going to hell."

Lyre’s peals of belly laughter fill the room. "If there is a hell, we’re all headed there for one reason or another." She taps a finger against her lips as she snickers, de-escalating her amusement. "Though I have to wonder—if you believe he’s a cold-blooded killer, why did you sleep with him?" frёewebnoѵēl.com

I open my mouth to respond, then close it. The simple, terrible truth is that there’s no good answer for me to give.

"I didn’t... think about it." My voice is tiny as I admit it. "When he touches me, I can’t think at all."

"Hmm." Lyre chuckles. "My sympathy for the wolf is rising once again."

"What do you mean?"

She shakes her head. "He has a lot of work ahead of him, that’s all. And he doesn’t seem emotionally intelligent enough to navigate the maze in your head."

I rub at the tip of my nose awkwardly, still overwhelmed by feelings of embarrassment. Once I accepted her premise—Caine and I being fated—some of her earlier comments made a lot of sense, too. The ones about my intelligence level. Like when she asked about my grades in school.

At the time, I was oblivious. Maybe on purpose, refusing to see what was in front of my face. Now, I know exactly what she meant when she asked me that question. It’s enough to make a girl feel... you know. Stupid.

"Tell me something, Grace. Why did the Lycan King kill your pack?"

"I don’t know."

Lyre’s slitted eyes narrow as she leans forward. "Really? Do you really not know? Or are you just not wanting to think about it?"

My fingers twist in the thin hospital blanket.

"I—"

Memories I’ve tried to sidestep keep rushing forward. Caine’s face. His hand on my neck. The weight of his dominance crushing the room. Fenris, appearing out of nowhere. The way Caine was furious every time Alpha... no, Brax, screamed at me.

I close my eyes, forcing myself to remember the conversation that preceded the slaughter. The words. The tone. The subtle shifts in body language I’d noticed but hadn’t understood.

Caine must have already known then what I only learned today.

My eyes open, and I stare at Lyre with crushing melancholy. "He did it because of me," I whisper, the realization unfurling like a poisonous flower in my chest. My lungs constrict.

"What?"

"He killed my entire pack because Brax hurt me."

A hot tear escapes, trailing down my cheek. Then another. And another. The weight of it crushes me—all those lives.

All dead.

Because of me.

Lyre jumps up from her chair, panic flashing across her face. "Hey, are you okay?"

My chest heaves with suppressed sobs. "He killed Alpha because of me! And everyone else, too! They’re all dead because of me!"

My voice rises to a near-wail. The heart monitor beside me beeps frantically as my pulse races.

Lyre’s hand lands awkwardly on my back, patting in a rhythm that’s more confused than comforting. Her other hand scrambles for the remote the nurses set on my bed, and she presses the red call button.

I hiccup, then sob harder.

"Breathe," she says, patting a little firmer. "Calm down. It’s not your fault. None of it is your fault. I wasn’t trying to make you think it was."

"But if it wasn’t for—" hic "—me, they’d all..."

"They were bad people, weren’t they? So does it even matter? It isn’t worth being upset when trash takes itself out."

I burst into full-on tears.

"Shit," she mutters. "That backfired."