Grace of a Wolf-Chapter 114: Grace: Everything. Is. Fine.

Nothing there. Just the empty dirt clearing and—

"Sadie! Sadie, get back here!"

A golden retriever bounds into view, racing toward the distant RV where someone stands in the doorway, waving.

I exhale a laugh that sounds more like a gasp. See? Dog. Just a dog. Totally normal. Totally fine.

Paranoia’s getting to me. This skin-crawling feeling makes everything seem like some monumental problem instead of just some random neighbor’s dog coming around to sniff the new arrival.

Caine watches me carefully but doesn’t comment. After a long moment, he says, "I need to make a supply run, but it’s at least a fifteen minute drive to town. I’ll be gone about an hour."

"You’re leaving?" My voice pitches higher than I intended.

"There’s no indication we were followed." His tone is calm and measured as he explains, "We need water and fuel. I won’t be long."

I nod, though anxiety crawls up my spine like tiny spiders. He’s right. We need supplies. Who knows how long we’ll be here. Lyre doesn’t sound like she’s coming back tonight. She said they were stopped at a motel because the others were tired.

They were driving all night, so it’s no surprise.

Caine gathers his keys and moves to the door. His hand pauses over the handle as he turns back to me, his gray eyes intense. "Lock this behind me."

"I will."

He steps outside, and I follow him outside, watching as he motions toward the underside of the RV. Fenris appears, manifesting out of thin air, smaller than he usually is. Much like when I thought he was a black dog instead of himself, with only the faintest hint of ethereal glow deep in his fur.

He starts padding toward me, but Caine growls, and he jerks to the side and slithers under the RV, panting in the shade of its cover.

"He’ll stay here."

I frown. "Does he have to stay outside?"

"Yes."

The wolf’s gray eyes peer at me, and I swear they look pleading.

"Can’t he come inside...?"

"No." novelbuddy.cσ๓

Caine climbs into the truck, starting the engine. The moment the truck begins to roll away, chaos erupts.

Jer and Bun burst past me, sprinting toward the moving vehicle, and Fenris bolts after them.

"Stop!" I yell. Too harsh. Too sharp. But it’s a moment of panic. "Get back inside, now!"

The younger boy freezes, then turns with a scowl sour enough to curdle milk. The toddler, sensing the tension, hesitates too, reaching for Jer’s hand once she sees Fenris behind them.

The wolf circles, looking for all the world like... a herding dog.

"Now," I repeat, my voice cracking.

The boy stomps back up the steps, shooting me a dark look. Guilt twists my belly.

Fenris chuffs, bumps my thigh, and slithers back under the trailer.

"What’s your problem?" Jer mutters.

"I’m sorry for yelling," I say, softer now, "but we need to stay inside. At least until he comes back."

Ron appears in the doorway, his steady presence an immediate balm. "Jer, knock it off. Treat it like Owen’s place—emergency protocol, remember?"

The boy’s shoulders sag slightly, but he nods.

The truck idles at the end of our clearing. Something’s wrong. Caine’s hesitating, and I can see his profile, rigid and alert. I hurry over, jogging the entire way. Fenris trots behind me, clearly taking his guard dog duty seriously.

"What is it?" I call out.

He’s glowering out the window, his gaze fixed on the distant RVs, particularly the one with the older couple.

"Probably safe isn’t certainty," he says, his voice low and hard. "Get your ass inside and lock the door, Grace."

I hesitate, but the authority in his tone is clear. I nod, jogging back. Up the steps and into the camper, the lock clicks with finality behind me. Poor Fenris remains outside.

By the time I get to the window, he’s already gone.

"Who’s hungry?" I ask, forcing brightness into my voice.

Four blank faces stare back at me. No takers.

"I can help you set up," Ron offers, breaking the silence.

Sara stands too. "Me too."

"Yeah, okay," Jer mumbles, already over his attitude. "What can I do?"

Bun squeals and starts jumping on the daybed, her little body launching higher with each bounce. Just as she teeters dangerously close to the edge, Ron lunges forward and catches her.

My heart jumps like an overcaffeinated rabbit. I cover with a deep breath, pushing down the panic that threatens to overwhelm me.

We’re safe. We’re out. Caine will be back soon. Everything’s fine. Bun’s got all of us watching her, and no one followed us here.

Everything. Is. Fine.

But tell that to the creeping dread still following me around. Better than before, but still present.

"Okay, team." I clap my hands, finding strength I didn’t know I had. "Sara, grab things off the bed in the back. Ask me if you aren’t sure where something goes. Jer, can you unpack everyone’s backpacks? Keep your clothes in your bags, but get all the food and other stuff out, and we’ll find a place for them. Ron, help me in the kitchen. There’s a lot of stuff in the cabinets we need to put back."

I won’t put everything out. Optional decor can stay packed, just in case we need to leave in a rush. But we need to at least make sure we’re comfortable and can easily access everything we need in the meantime.

"Okay," all three of them chorus.

Oh, wait. I still need to turn off the second AC unit.

The thermostat is sleeker than I expect—flat, matte black, with a soft-glow screen. It mentions zones—one and two—which is super helpful as someone who has no idea what she’s doing. What’s wrong with "living room" and "bedroom"? It would be a lot clearer.

I poke at it until Zone 2 clicks off. The bedroom AC winds down with a mechanical sigh, and I check the solar panel with bated breath.

Estimated run time: 11h 42m. Battery: 96%.

Thank goodness.

Though I’m guessing the number will go down with the sun.