CAINE
My first instinct is anger, but between Fenris's nagging and the look on Grace's face the moment I walk through the door, it disappears.
She's so pale I'm certain she'll faint at any moment, and her entire body's trembling as a disturbingly familiar, sour scent rolls off her.
Fuck the cat. And the dog.
This is a bigger problem.
Grabbing her wrist, I drag her to Lyre's bedroom, trying to block the pounding in my head.
You shouldn't just snatch her like that. It makes it worse.
I know.
I fucking know.
But if I open my mouth right now, who knows what'll come out.
Your restraint would be commendable if you weren't scaring her even more. Still, I suppose it's progress.
My wolf is on my last damn nerve.
I pull Grace to the bed, setting her on the edge of it before releasing her wrist. She jerks it to her chest immediately, rubbing it with her other hand as if I hurt her.
