Grace of a Wolf

Chapter 165: Grace: Reassurance

Jer’s knuckles are white against my hand as we trudge back toward our camper. His fingers tremble, but his breathing has evened out.

Ron and Sara stand under the awning. Bun toddles between their legs, rabbit ears twitching above her dark curls. She doesn’t even notice us; something on the ground appears to be fascinating her.

"Can I... can I go to them now?"

I release the boy’s hand and nudge him forward. "Yeah. Just stay where I can see you."

He bolts toward the others, his shoulders already loosening with every step away from Archie and Doris. Away from what he saw. I fold my arms across my chest, trying to trap the cold spreading there.

Dead bodies, but not really dead?

It’s surreal.

The words spin through my head, refusing to settle into anything making sense. I press my palm against my forehead, willing the pressure to ease. One more supernatural mystery I don’t understand, dropped onto me when I’m already drowning.

"What happened?" Sara’s voice cuts through my spiral as she approaches, her curious eyes flickering between me and Jer. "Why was he screaming?"

I glance back at the other camper, where Lyre, Owen, and Caine are still inside with... whatever those bodies are. Not human, I guess.

Not anymore, at least.

Or ever?

"He was just startled. Come on, kids. Let’s finish getting everything ready."

"Are we really taking the dog with us?"

I blink and turn around, only to find Sadie, tail wagging low and golden fur catching the morning light. She’s giving us her cute dog smile, which is basically an arrow of guilt straight into my heart.

My head’s hurting again. "I don’t know yet."

Sadie sits, looking up at me with devoted puppy eyes as her entire body vibrates with golden retriever joy. No. I can’t get a soft spot for a dog. I’m already swamped in four kids.

Tearing my gaze away, I call out, "We have a lot to do before we leave."

But none of them move. Instead, Sara turns her interrogation to Jer. "What did you see in there? Was it scary?"

"Leave me alone," Jer snaps, his small shoulders hunching defensively as he stomps toward the RV steps.

"But you were screaming—"

"I said leave me ALONE!" he shrieks, high enough and loud enough to hurt my ears.

The oldest of them all steps forward, blocking Sara from her younger brother. "Why don’t you just play with Bun outside," he says to Jer, his voice low and steady. "We’ll deal with the rest, okay?"

Sara opens her mouth to protest—it’s clear from her expression she’s outraged Jer’s getting some sort of special treatment—but Ron clamps a hand on her shoulder and steers her toward the camper. "Come on," he mutters.

"But I want to know what—"

"Read the room!" he hisses as they pass me, just loud enough for me to catch.

"What room? We were outside!"

I exhale heavily and cross to where Jer’s standing and gently pat at his dark curls, noticing how they spring back under my touch. He doesn’t flinch away, which feels like a small victory when his tiny shoulders are still all scrunched up.

He’s fixed his gaze on Bun, who’s down on her hands and knees in the dirt. The toddler’s completely captivated by a line of ants marching in formation to an unknown destination. Her rabbit ears twitch with excitement, her little nose scrunching adorably as she watches them.

"Are you going to be okay?" I ask him, keeping my voice soft enough Sara can’t overhear from where she’s sulking just inside.

Jer nods, his eyes still tracking Bun’s movements. "Yeah. It isn’t the first time, anyway."

My hand freezes mid-stroke. The casual way he says it...

I sink down to his level. My fingers find his small hand, wrapping around it.

He squeezes like he’s desperate for my touch.

"You’ve seen this before?" I whisper, praying for him to say I misunderstood.

"No." He shakes his head, finally meeting my eyes, and I’m relieved.

"There was more blood before."

Or not.

Fuck.

This is not what I wanted to hear.

My blood goes cold as his words hang there, his fact blank. It’s a struggle to maintain a neutral expression while my mind races through horrible possibilities.

"Blood?" My voice comes out strangled. I work to soften it, to keep the shock from scaring him. "What do you mean, Jer?"

He shrugs one shoulder, his gaze returning to the ant-entranced Bun. "It happens sometimes. Fiddleback isn’t a nice pack."

That’s not an answer, but pushing for one feels wrong.

My heart pounds against my ribs so hard I’m surprised he can’t hear it. I want to pull him into a fierce hug, but something in his rigid posture warns me against it. Instead, I squeeze his hand, trying to anchor both of us.

"Jer, I’m so sorry."

"It’s okay." He says it like he’s comforting me. "Those people in there—they’re not bleeding. So at least it didn’t hurt."

My mouth opens and closes, because I can’t find the words. How do I make sense of this for a kid who’s already survived horrors adults have issues facing?

A shadow falls over us both. Caine’s scent wraps around me a split second before his presence registers.

He places his large hand on Jer’s head, the gesture incredibly gentle for a man whose hands have ended lives. The boy looks up at him, his eyes red-rimmed and glistening.

"It’s okay," he says quietly. "You’re safe."

Just that. No false promises that everything will be fine. No empty sunshine about better days ahead. I want to be outraged Caine isn’t mustering up some more care for this traumatized boy, but a single glance at the child tells me I’m wrong to be upset.

His shoulders relax, and he stands a little straighter. noveldrama

Jer nods once, accepting the offering of certainty from the most dangerous predator for miles. A single tear escapes, rolling down his cheek before he wipes it away with an angry swipe of his hand.

Something tight in my chest eases, watching them.

Caine doesn’t try to hug him or offer empty comfort. There’s just the weight of his hand, the certainty of his presence. It’s enough.

Better than what I’ve managed to do.

If the situation wasn’t so serious, I might even be jealous. But I’m grateful, instead.

Bun notices Caine and abandons her ants, toddling over with her arms outstretched. "Up!" she demands. Unlike the others—mostly Sara—she’s never shown any fear of the Lycan King.

More importantly, when did she learn to say up? She’s already growing too fast.

Without missing a beat, Caine sweeps her up with one arm, settling her against his chest. She immediately starts patting his face, and he looks at me.

"The others have it under control. Let’s focus on getting out of here."

"I’ll help," Jer volunteers, his voice steadier now. He darts past me toward the RV, seemingly eager for a purpose.

"What happened in there?" I nod toward Archie and Doris’s camper, figuring the change of conversation will be at least slightly less terrible than Jer’s mental state. Maybe.

Caine shakes his head. "Lyre and Owen will take care of it. We have our own work to do."