232 Caine: Instilling Fear
“Fair point.” He pauses. “Anything else you need me to report?”
It’s apparent the current leadership isn’t capable of much, anyway. That whelp of an alpha has allowed his mate to not only once, but twice, attack the woman under my protection. Even without my interference, this pack is doomed to fall.
A soft hum escapes me as I process this information. My little mate with her boundless compassion. It seems our house is destined to be lively. 7
“Take her away,” I tell the Lycan holding her up by her arm. “Keep her in custody until her Luna returns. Perhaps she’ll be more motivated to show her face when her favorite pet is missing.”
Neither of them have showed their faces since my return, though it may have something to do with the rampant rumors flying through the pack; considering they both approached Grace before learning she is still under my protection, it’s no surprise.
I hum again, my gaze drifting to the window. It will be nice when I can bring Grace home, instead of seeing Blue Mountain territory everywhere I look. She’ll be safe there, even if I have to leave to investigate something like Fiddleback.
He clears his throat. “Great. Anyway, thought you should know–Lyre and Grace have come to an agreement about sending a couple kids your way. There are two we found in the tunnels.”
I nod. “Correct.” He’s learning quickly, as expected of my son.
“Not unless you have something else to share.”
6
My gaze travels back to my phone, dark and listless without Grace’s sweet responses. Perhaps she’s already in the shower.
“Lie,” Ron says calmly from my left.
“Did you call for inspiration?”
This woman is one of the devious Luna’s most loyal attendants, but getting the truth out of her was never my intent. If I wanted their Alpha in my hands, it would have
232 Calne: Instilling Fear
happened this morning.
But instilling fear will keep them from tormenting her further, and forcing the new Alpha and Luna into the shadows will only heighten their anguish as their legitimacy is questioned with the advent of the upcoming forum.
The guard nods sharply, hauling the woman to her feet. She doesn’t resist, doesn’t even whimper as she’s dragged from the room. Ron watches with clinical detachment, his young face already hardened into jaded indifference.
“I’m planning on having one of the new Lycans drive them over,” Jack–Eye continues. “And we might need a few more.”
“Lie,” Ron says again.
Another gentle tap of my knuckles causes her to flinch.
From the corner of the room, a Lycan who has been silent throughout my dealings steps forward at my beckoning motion, his face carefully blank despite his hearing being acute enough to hear Jack–Eye’s words.
Her head droops lower. It’s hard to tell if her eyes are even open through the swelling. “Our Alpha and Luna have been called out by the esteemed Alpha of Forest Springs, High Alpha. They are not in territory.”
“What’s the status of the forum? Have all the participating packs confirmed their attendance?”
But I have to be by her side in a place like this.
“Keep at it. There has to be something.”
Fighting the instinctive urge to reject the call, I press the phone to my ear. “What is it?”
I’m not sure if I should be proud or concerned. 1
His sigh is heavy. “It’s rough. I thought we’d make quicker progress once Lyre could use her magic again, but for whatever reason, she says it isn’t a good idea.”
I press my thumb and forefinger against the bridge of my nose. “They should be there within the day.” I’m not actually sure exactly where they are, but there’s only so much driving that can be done in a day, and the pack lands are far from Fiddleback territory.
232 Calne: Instilling Fear
“H–High Alpha, the Luna is not in our territory-”
Kneeling is a pleasant term for her almost limp body, held upright by her arms. Her facial features are obscured by swelling, and there isn’t an inch of skin on her unblemished.
I end the call without changing my expression, placing the phone face–down on the desk with careful precision.
“You sound strangely mellow today,” Jack–Eye continues, his voice dripping with insinuation. “Must have used that new technique I suggested-” 2
And his Luna is even less of a worry.
“High Alpha,” he acknowledges with a slight bow of his head.
“Nah, that covers the basics.” Another pause, this one longer, more calculated. “So… have you figured out your little problem yet? The touching thing with Grace?”
Perhaps I should have a larger one built. 6
Disappointment is instant.
I lean back in my chair with a long sigh, waving my hand in dismissal at the beaten she–wolf. Her loyalty is admirable, if misplaced.
His expression remains neutral as he approaches my desk, having a much better sense of self–preservation than his Beta.
More importantly, my little mate has things to do in this pack. Considering her reaction when I first killed her pathetic excuse for a foster father, I have no interest in creating more distance between us by eliminating the rest of her problematic pack from this world, especially when there are already a multitude of political headaches stemming from my impulsive actions. 1
“I see. And the wizard?”
“Well, hello to you too, sunshine.” Jack–Eye’s voice carries its usual sardonic edge. “Where the hell are our reinforcements? We’ve been waiting.”
“This King has given great mercy to the Blue Mountain Pack, allowing most of you to live, and yet your Alpha and Luna refuse to show their faces upon my return.”
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232 Calne: Instilling Fear
1 freeze.
The she–wolf goes silent, having even lost the will to whimper. My eyes darken.
“We’re bleeding him dry. Poor bastard can barely stand anymore. Because this is taking so long, we haven’t made much progress on investigating anything else in Fiddleback. Sorry, boss.”
“Is that all you’ve got? ‘Keep at it‘? Very inspiring leadership.”
My phone vibrates against the desk, the display lighting up. I jerk up straight to reach for it but the name illuminated isn’t Grace’s. Jack–Eye’s contact photo stares back at
me instead.
After five minutes without another reply from Grace, I let my gaze travel gloomily from my smartphone display to the she–wolf kneeling before me.
CAINE
If I wasn’t dealing with this pesky pack…
Rapping my knuckles against the desk, I murmur, “Your Luna is thirty minutes late.”
“Understood. How are things on your end?” I ask, leaning back in my
chair.
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I was supposed to update yesterday but spent over 15 hours sleeping to catch up on too many nights without sleep…
Lenaleia
Creator’s Thoughts
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231 Grace: Bruised
231 Grace: Bruised
His response is shockingly swift.
Dylan’s head swivels as he pours two burned pancakes into the trash, looking a little less grouchy when he observes Andrew.
“It’s Randy, ma’am.”
Andrew coughs into his fist, a faint red flush creeping up his neck. “I told you before. I’ve made my choice. I’m not going back to Rafe’s side.”
Andrew’s voice carries through the door, steady and cool despite the demeanor of the old Lycan gate–guarding my doorway. It’s a little surprising to feel the relief threading through me when I hear his voice; Dylan’s become a little too much of a sycophant, and the reversal’s too quick. It’s enough to make a girl uneasy around him, not sure how much is real and how much he’s faking.
“I don’t think you have the right to decide that.”
“No problem, ma’am. Do you want some pancakes, Bun?”
I let it slide for the moment, determined to pin him down later.
\[GRACE: Yes…?\]
“Andrew-”
Instead, I smile. “I need to shower. Do you mind feeding her some pancakes, Randolph?”
I turn to Dylan, who’s returned to his pancake fortress, my frown intensifying as my suspicions are proven correct, “Did you scare my dog?”
I frown. “You don’t need to-”
“Did Ellie give you trouble?”
The Lycan turns from the stove, but the tense moment is interrupted by another knock on the door, because/apparently we’re the party house of the morning.
“And bacon?”
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231 Grace: Bruised
\[CAINE: Good morning. Did you have breakfast yet?\]
For some reason, I feel like scowling at the man as Bun happily pats at his face, leaving me uncomfortable with the surge of jealousy I feel as she smiles at someone unrelated to our little family unit.
Sadie flattens herself to the floor and belly crawls behind Andrew as he goes to open it, whining a little.
\[CAINE: Good.\]
She shakes her head.
My cheek twitches a little as the old Lycan scowls at his back, probably plotting his murder or something. Somehow, I have the feeling Andrew’s being too friendly on purpose to piss him off, but it’s more amusing to watch than anything… mainly because I know his attitude would change if Caine walked through the door.
The man doesn’t seem terribly proficient at conversational texting. His question’s not only weird, but he’s left our conversation at a standstill. How the hell am I supposed to respond now?
“Are you blind? I’m still cooking,” Dylan snaps,
“I’m here to see Grace.”
\[GRACE: Yep. About to shower now.\]
Super Nanny seems particularly proficient in her gibberish.
“Let him in,” I call out, wiping banana from Bun’s chin. She tries to avoid it, even bending backward in an attempt to pretzel herself, but I win because she’s strapped
into a chair.
“Dogs have instincts,” Dylan says flatly. “Perhaps she recognizes superior predators when she encounters them.”
Andrew snorts and mutters, “Or maybe she just doesn’t like assholes.”
The idea still feels weird, though not as impossible as it used to.
Sadie slips off the daybed and trots over to Andrew, but slinks when she gets near. Her eyes are wide, the whites of them clearly visible as she looks at Dylan before
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231 Grace: Bruised
practically plastering herself against the younger shifter’s legs.
She nods and places both hands on either side of his face, saying solemnly, “Pa cay.”
“No? Are you still hungry?”
A little smug and high on having newfound lackeys to do everything for me, I even shoo Andrew and Sadie outside before half–skipping into the bedroom to grab fresh clothes for my shower.
Even Andrew does a double take as we both stare at the pile of food on the counter.
“Fine. Why are you here?”
My lips quirk a little. Speaking of sycophants, Andrew’s always been the ultimate one in my head all these years, always standing by Rafe’s side. He never had much of his own personality; he was always “Rafe’s best friend, Andrew“.
Ah, he probably was asking if I was showering with Bun. Now it makes sense.
Then again, after having Super Nanny come by yesterday and utilizing Andrew as a chauffeur, I’m starting to become inordinately fond of having lackeys…
The denial comes too fast, wrapped in a casual tone that’s anything but as he evades further questioning.
“Bay.”
A little bemused, I read over the few texts again.
Meanwhile, Dylan’s entire face goes sour and he steps aside with all the enthusiasm of someone allowing a raccoon into their pantry. Andrew slips past, and Dylan shuts the door with force.
And… there’s our conversation.
\[CAINE: Can I?\]
His hand flies up reflexively, fingers skimming the bruise before dropping away. “What? No. Hey, Jer and Sara are still sleeping?”
\[GRACE: Why, do you want to shower with me?\]
But unlike Dylan, who achieved sycophancy after discovering my identity, Andrew’s
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231 Grace: Bruised
lost his. It’s not hard to assume who I’d prefer to talk to.
\[CAINE: Oh.\]
Bun nods with satisfaction, but my newfound jealousy is still calm in my chest. After all, I’m not going to be the one cleaning up her sticky mess. If he wants to sacrifice himself, he can.
“I mean…” Deciding Bun’s clean enough, especially considering she’s just going to shove more mashed banana on her face–which she promptly does as soon as I take away the demonic wipe I used to clean her–I settle back into my seat with a frown. “You don’t have a particular reason to be.” 1
\[CAINE: Alone?\\]
The statement hangs awkwardly in the air, but it’s true. I’m not trying to be rude, but our relationship has always been defined by Raphael. Andrew was Rafe’s friend who tolerated me. Now he’s saying he’s a friend who’s chosen me over Rafe, but… well, when did we become hang–out–every–morning friends?
My mood brightens further to find Caine’s sent me a text.
Andrew doesn’t seem to notice, his eyes steady on me, occasionally drifting to the
still–arched Bun.
\[GRACE: No.\]
2
He pours new pancakes into the pan. “I did not terrorize the beast, ma’am.”
Jesus. I’m perfectly capable of remembering a name, and yet I can’t figure out his for the life of me. “Right. Randy.”
“She’s been acting weird since we got here,” I point out. “Like she’s afraid of your
reaction.
“I don’t think you have any need to see her,” Dylan says harshly. His voice is old–sounding enough for it to be harsh without trying, and now he’s obviously trying.
“Where’s Sadie’s leash?” He cuts me off, even as he’s already found it on the counter. “I’ll take her out for a bit. She’s probably ready for a walk
Meanwhile, something else has caught my eye. It’s a yellowed bruise near his temple, in the stages of late healing. And if I squint really hard, I think there’s dried blood at the
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231 Grace: Bruised
corner of his mouth, though whatever injury is long healed.
The urge to scowl fades almost immediately.
“Ey.”
Hah! She wasn’t even afraid of Caine when she first met him, our first sign of her not being a normal dog. Though she does seem to prance a little lighter around Fenris, who does, in fact, terrorize her, only further proving I’m probably right.
Her entire face scrunches up in disgust as I scrub a crusty bit of oatmeal from under
her eye while I’m at it.
Andrew clips the leash to Sadie’s collar, his movements stiff. The bruise on his temple is more obvious now that I know to look for it. For it to still hang around, it’s probably from earlier this morning. And he’s trying too hard to act like nothing happened, which either means it’s very related to me… or he’s trying to protect his ego.
I blink at my phone, but the weird question doesn’t ruin my happiness.
“Pa cay!” Bun shouts again, stretching her hands toward Dylan’s stack with renewed
determination.
“Eggs?”
“What, I can’t be here?”
A blush heats my cheeks even as I stare at the screen in exasperation. He’s left it at a dead end again…
I was not consulted.
My eyes narrow,
His eyebrows lift as he shoves his hands into his pockets, slouching a little as he stands in the hall. Dylan’s forced to shove him forward in order to enter the kitchen, his scarred face looking particularly dark and scary as he shoots the younger man a quick glower,
“Good morning, princess, Are you done eating breakfast?”
This time, it really is Randolph, and he comes inside with a smile. Aside from giving Andrew a curious look, he nods politely in my direction and grins widely at Dylan. “I
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231 Grace: Bruised
thought I smelled breakfast. Is that going to be enough, though?”
Bun reaches out for Randy with a soft coo, and he unbuckles her to pull her into his
arms.
Besides; his behavior isn’t for me, Grace. It’s for Caine’s mate. Shockingly enough, I’m not averse to borrowing his power… but it doesn’t really feel good to know someone’s taking care of you because of your position and not your personality, you know?
Andrew, meanwhile, doesn’t even acknowledge the Lycan now that he’s made his way inside. His brown eyes settle on me instead, a now–familiar half–smile tugging at his mouth. “Hey. How are you doing?”
He snatches the leash off the counter and whistles. “Come on, girl.”
66
Maybe I should have Grace teach Caine how to use emojis.
Also: We are finally cooling down after weeks of heat wave temps (mid–90s and up). Which is the most amazing thing ever, because I wilt…
Lenaleia
Creator’s Thoughts
