Grace of a Wolf

Chapter 126: Grace: Waking to Chaos (I)

Sharp, digital beeps wake me out of what feels like a molasses-like sea of sleep.

My eyes are too heavy to pry open, but I manage anyway. noveldrama

I’m not in the camper.

Panic is immediate, freezing every muscle. It was already hard to move, and now it’s impossible.

Two feet, clad in black flip-flops and wearing an anklet with a bell, chiming sweetly with every step, pace toward me. They’re men’s feet, making the anklet seem so much more out of place. It’s on a delicate golden chain, and I wonder how it doesn’t snap every time he walks.

"Oh, dear. You aren’t supposed to be here."

His voice slides over me, soft like silk and dripping with the sweetness of honey, but with the faint, smokey sound of a man trying to seduce you in the dark.

I’m already on guard.

The casual amusement in his tone wraps around me with unsettling familiarity, as if we’re old friends reuniting after a brief separation. Far too intimate.

I try to sit up, pushing against whatever invisible force pins me down. My muscles strain against nothing and everything at once. The effort makes my vision swim, black spots dancing.

And then the world... glitches.

The floor beneath me shifts from cool marble to an infinite expanse of stars, then to absolutely nothing at all—vanishing and reforming with each desperate blink. My stomach lurches.

I’m seasick, and reality’s fracturing.

He crouches beside me, and I try to focus on his face and not his feet floating above... nothing.

Big mistake.

His features refuse to settle. Too symmetrical one moment, then subtly wrong the next. His eyes cycle through impossible colors—violet blending into gold, then abyssal black, then something which isn’t a color at all, but more of an impression of chaos.

His skin tone shifts with each blink, his hair growing and shortening and changing texture constantly. Beautiful, but the kind where my brain hurts just trying to perceive it. An optical illusion, cranked to the max.

"You’re causing quite the stir, you know." He tilts his head, and the movement leaves tracers in my vision. "The Order is watching your every move. Balance is ready to intervene. And Chaos?"

He leans closer, his breath cool against my face. Long fingers tilt my chin up, and his lips hover dangerously near mine—not quite touching, but close enough for it to feel so very wrong.

"Chaos really likes you..."

Something flickers deep in my chest, a spark of heat spreading outward in a sudden rush. And inside the heat, something else responds—not me, but something within me. It snarls, the sound reverberating through my bones without making a sound anyone can hear.

I wrench backward, away from his almost-touch, my spine arching with sudden strength I didn’t know I had. The movement feels instinctual, primal—and strangely, it doesn’t come from me alone. I’m pulling from somewhere else, someone else.

Caine.

Our bond burns white-hot, flooding through my veins like liquid fire. Raw power surges through the connection, fierce and primal and alive in a way I’ve never felt before. My fingers dig into whatever surface I’m on, anchoring myself against the onslaught of energy.

He laughs, his face full of delight as he watches me. "Fated wolves are always so prissy."

The strange man stands up straight—or at least I think he does. His height flickers too, sometimes towering, sometimes merely tall, never settling on a single dimension. The amusement on his ever-changing face is the only constant, though it also flickers and changes with his rise and lowering of his cheekbones and the shape of his mouth and nose.

"I’m not a wolf," I say, surprised by how level my voice sounds. Steady. Like I’m commenting on the weather instead of having an impossible conversation in an impossible place. My voice doesn’t match my racing heart or the scream building in my throat. It’s like my body and brain are slightly out of sync, operating on different frequencies.

The steadiness rattles me more than panic would have.

I suck in a breath, wondering how I’m even breathing in this place. But I am, and strangely, the air feels wonderful—cool and clean, filling my lungs and easing the weight from my limbs. Each breath brings a little more clarity, a little more strength.

He flaps a hand dismissively. "No, but there’s a wolf who’s claimed you, no?" His features ripple again, settling momentarily into a beautiful, golden-haired face before shifting away. He sports a giant, bushy beard now, and heavy brows. His nose wrinkles as he squints at me. "Though we don’t even get to see the juicy parts since you keep fainting."

The genuine disappointment in his voice sends heat rushing to my cheeks.

The air suddenly changes, pressure building around us. Separate from the weight holding down my body, it feels like it’s holding onto this space. He clicks his tongue, the sound unnaturally sharp. "Damn. They’ve already noticed you’re here."

"Who are you?" I blurt out, the questions finally tumbling over themselves. "Where am I?"

Irritation flickers across his ever-changing features. "Why ask such generic questions? Wouldn’t you rather know how..." He leans down again, pressing one finger to my chest, directly over my heart. The contact sends a riot of sensations through me—hot and cold, pleasure and revulsion, tingling electricity and unsettling numbness—all warring for dominance. "...to control what’s inside you?"

"What’s inside me?" My voice wavers for the first time.

His smile stretches too wide. "Kiss me and find out."

"Absolutely not." The words snap out, firm and certain. Whatever’s happening, whatever answers I need, I’ll find them my own way.

He throws back his head and laughs. "Why do wolves have to be so damn loyal?"

"I’m not a wolf," I repeat, the words feeling more like a question this time.

He shakes his head, something like pity crossing his features. "No. You’re much stronger than that."

The space around us stretches and shrinks. The nausea in my belly ramps up. Panic seizes me as I realize he’s leaving—or I am.

"Wait! No, I have more questions! Please!" I cry out. "What’s Balance? And Order? What are you? Why—"

"I’ll see you later, darling," he says, his voice the last thing to fade as darkness reclaims me.