Grace of a Wolf-Chapter 71: Caine: Banquet (I)

CAINE

The van rumbles beneath us, carrying our mismatched party through Fiddleback territory. My fingers drum steadily against my knee.

"High Alpha, we’re approaching the venue now," Elizabeth announces, cool and collected once again. "Alpha Halloway wanted to do justice to the Lycan King’s presence. This is our community’s premier venue. We host all major affairs there—celebrations, council meetings... mate ceremonies."

She turns her head slightly toward Jack-Eye at the last bit.

My beta shifts in the passenger seat. "It’s a beautiful place," he says, perfectly noncommittal.

Fenris snorts from his position in the captain’s chair beside me. He’s perched on it like it’s his throne, and even I have to admit the visual is mildly amusing. He’s about to collect another mating proposal. How many is that now?

Twenty, maybe? I have no idea why his mere presence seems to addle their brains, but women are always desperate to attach themselves to the man.

And I know exactly what he’ll say when teased about it. "It’s not my fault the local females have taste." I’ve heard it more than once, when other Lycans have ribbed him over his casual conquests.

Behind me, Thom and Andrew sit silent—Thom fidgeting with his glasses, and the Blue Mountain pup staring stonily out the window. The extended van feels overcrowded despite the empty seats of even more rows.

My phone buzzes, and I check it briefly. Another photo. Grace is still asleep. Lyre’s still reading, not responding to my text. Thankfully, once I bring my mate home, her contact with the rainbow-haired woman will be close to severed. She’s a bad influence.

Are you trying to run her off again?

Fenris snaps at the air between us, his teeth gleaming in the dim light of twilight, and I frown at his absurd question.

She will return with us. It’s no longer an option. A wolf doesn’t leave his mate behind. She might fuss a little, but she’ll understand in the end. She’s a smart girl.

He heaves a sigh, his ears pressed tight against his head as he stares at me. You’re an idiot. Again. I take back everything I said about you becoming smarter after you accepted Grace. You’re stupider than before.

My teeth bare at his accusations. Are you suggesting we leave her with someone who can’t be trusted to keep us informed of her health?

No, you imbecile. I’m saying don’t force Grace to do something against her will.

Oh.

My shoulders relax.

If that’s your worry, we have no problem. Grace will return with us.

I settle back into my seat, an edge of satisfaction spreading through me. The certainty of Grace’s connection to me is undeniable. It seems a little silly to have been so resistant against this clear tether between us, this tug in my chest. Even now, I can feel her as a soft, warm presence anchored beneath my ribs.

She felt it, too. I saw it in her eyes. Felt it in her body’s response.

A mate bond doesn’t lie.

My gaze drifts to my hand, turning it palm up. Lyre had spouted off some strange explanation of energy transfer, saying I’d somehow siphoned Grace’s power. Such a bond is unheard of; there is nothing like it in our history.

We can strengthen our mate. Protect them. But to accidentally harm them? To drain them of their strength? Impossible.

Either Lyre’s wrong, or...

No matter. I’ll figure it out. I always do.

Are you listening to yourself? Fenris growls, his tail smacking against the back of his chair. Get your head out of your ass.

I narrow my eyes at him. It’s a good thing others can’t hear how disrespectful the Lycan King’s wolf can be. Mind your tongue.

If I could break our pact myself, I would. You’re going to destroy her.

His suggestion is so outrageous I nearly laugh. Calm down. Have a little more faith in our mate.

In Grace? Fenris snaps his teeth again, and Elizabeth flinches in the driver’s seat. I have plenty of faith in Grace. It’s you I don’t trust.

The clarity my mate has gifted me fades as rage simmers just under my skin. Enough.

The van slows, pulling into a massive parking structure, attached to another building. This must be the venue Elizabeth spoke of so charmingly.

Through tall windows, I glimpse chandeliers suspended from exposed beam ceilings.

Elizabeth shifts the vehicle into park. "We’ve arrived, High Alpha."

I nod curtly, but my focus remains on Fenris. The fury coiling in my body is enticing, beckoning me further, but I dig in my heels.

Grace likes Fenris.

Do you truly believe I would hurt her? I ask, quieter this time.

His ears flatten. Not intentionally. There’s a weight to his words, and a reluctance in the part of our soul stitching us together. But your intentions aren’t the problem. It’s your inability to see past your arrogance and see things as Grace does.

My fingers tap against my knee again. The arrogance of a Lycan King has always been considered a strength. Not a weakness. Has Fenris gone soft?

Idiot.

Jack-Eye opens the passenger door, creating a welcome diversion. "Shall we, High Alpha?"

Behave yourself, I warn Fenris, deciding to shelve this conversation until later.

Fenris huffs, a deep rumble in his chest as he slinks out of the van behind me. His massive body brushes against my leg—not quite submission, but not outright defiance either. I’ll behave better than you deserve.

The night air smells strange here, almost itchy to my nose, but I can’t pinpoint anything to cause it.

Jack-Eye’s somehow procured a charcoal suit, fitting him perfectly despite his broad shoulders and well above-average height. If I didn’t know better, I would think he brought it with him. Even his shoes are polished.

"High Alpha," he says, looking me over, "are you sure you don’t want a suit?"

"No."

The tactical gear I’m wearing feels right against my skin—dark pants with reinforced knees, a fitted shirt allowing full range of motion, and boots capable of handling a chase through rough terrain. It’s part of the standard gear we keep stashed on long trips, and far more comfortable than a restrictive suit.

I have no need to impress a pack as small as Fiddleback. I don’t need a suit to remind these wolves who I am.

Andrew and Thom come to stand behind me, both reeking of anxiety. Thom’s has the bitter edge of fear, but Andrew’s is a little sharper. My eyes narrow at the Blue Mountain pup.

He’s obeying every command given, but the hint of defiance beneath it all has yet to disappear. I don’t trust him.

Once inside the venue, it’s all glass and timber beams, pretending to be rustic while overwhelmed by modern lines and bright white walls. Figures.

Alpha Ian Halloway struts toward us, arms spread wide in welcome. His smile stretches too far across his face.

"High Alpha!" His voice booms across the space between us. "What an honor to host you in our humble territory."

He extends a hand toward me, and I take it, feeling the pressure of his grip. I squeeze back just hard enough to make his eyes widen.

"Alpha Halloway," I acknowledge. "Your hospitality is... appreciated."

Fenris stands by my side, his massive head level with Halloway’s chest. The ethereal blue glow he emits is stronger than usual, bathing us all in its light. The Fiddleback Alpha’s eyes drift to him with poorly concealed fascination.

"And the legendary Fenrisúlfr himself," Halloway says, bowing his head slightly. "Tales of your exploits have reached even our remote corner."