Grace of a Wolf

Chapter 167: Grace: There’s a Lot to Learn

Getting a car seat is a lot harder than I thought... and we haven’t even left the campsite yet.

It never really occurred to me we can’t just take a big rig like ours into a random store parking lot. Some of them aren’t easily accessible for something closer to a semi truck than a regular car.

I squint at the map on my tiny phone screen as Lyre zooms into a spot just off the highway.

"Your only option nearby is going to be this Walmart," she says, toggling the satellite photos. "See? They’ve got the space for overnight parking."

"We aren’t staying there overnight."

"No, but that means they have enough room."

Right, right.

"Funny it’s another Walmart," I mumble. It’s where I met Lyre.

"It’s always another Walmart. Get used to it." She smirks a little before zooming back out. "Anyway, you remember what I told you, right?"

I nod automatically. "Only two to three hundred miles a day, don’t put out my slides in a parking lot, and try to park to the back so we aren’t bothering the others."

"Our tanks aren’t very full, but don’t forget to stop by a dump site, especially one with extra fresh water. And always turn off your—"

"Water pump if we stop to use the bathroom," I finish for her. "I remember."

The RV life crash course she gave me feels like it happened years ago instead of days. So many rules I never knew existed for a life I never planned to lead.

Owen and Caine pause by us, done inspecting the truck. Owen is some sort of car seat guru, apparently, and he’s our tie-breaker on the seating arrangement.

His silver-gray eyes meet mine immediately. "You can fit a forward-facing car seat in the truck," he says. "In the front."

Forward-facing...?

I stare at him blankly, then look over at Bun, who’s currently worm-crawling through the dirt with Jer. Her little body wiggles with determination as Jer laughs, showing her how to improve her technique. They’re both going to have to change before getting in the truck.

"Is she big enough for that?" I ask. I’d pictured Bun needing one of those car seats with a handle you carry around the grocery store, something to cradle her tiny body. She’s so small, even for a two-year-old.

Owen shrugs. "It’s the only option for the truck. If she’s in the car—"

"She won’t be," Caine cuts in.

"—a convertible car seat facing the rear should be fine. But not a bucket."

"Bucket?"

"The ones with the handle. They’re for young babies, not toddlers like Bun."

Ah. So basically the kind I thought we were getting. Turns out there’s a lot to learn about kids and car seats.

He clears his throat. "It would be better to put a few children in Andrew’s car. The bench won’t be comfortable for them for long drives."

I don’t bother hiding the smug look I shoot at Caine. See? There isn’t enough room. Take that, you pigheaded alpha.

His response is immediate and cold. "Absolutely not."

"This isn’t up to you," Owen says calmly, unruffled by the Lycan’s anger. noveldrama

Caine’s eyes narrow, his face darkening. The air’s suddenly charged with an unhealthy dose of alpha posturing.

I step between them instinctively, palms out and hovering over Caine’s chest without touching. "Owen’s been taking care of these kids from the beginning," I remind him. "We should follow what he wants for them. He’s the closest thing to a parent they have."

His jaw works, the muscle there jumping beneath his skin. "Then they have three parents."

Even an idiot can figure out the math he’s using, and Owen’s no idiot. His brow arches as he looks between us, and I blush.

"It’s not that easy, Caine."

But it’s sweet to see how willingly he accepts the children as his.

His gray eyes lock onto mine, steady and unwavering. "It is if you want it to be."

God, how is everything so black and white for him? As if claiming something makes it real. As if saying we’re a family means we suddenly know how to be one. I wonder how he’s lived his life to have such a simple worldview.

Things are how they are for him, and that’s the end of it.

"I don’t want my family driven by anyone else," Caine says, his voice hardening as he shifts his attention back to Owen.

The word "family" again. So casually tossed out there like the other man hasn’t been the one to literally save their lives and take care of them daily.

I bite back a groan. He’s just claiming the kids from their current parent without asking if it’s even okay. I get it; I’ve been doing the same in my head. But unlike a certain someone, at least I never dreamed of separating them from Owen...

I might not know Caine very well, but I know one thing as absolute fact. Caine definitely never listed Owen in his future dreams of raising the kids with me.

To his credit, the other man doesn’t back down. He stands there, facing the Lycan King head-on, not a flicker of fear in his posture.

"I won’t let them go to someone who refuses to take care of them properly when the option is there," he says evenly. "Especially Ron. He’s been through too much to keep sacrificing over ego."

I thought I’d seen impressive things in the supernatural world, but watching Owen stare down Caine might top the list. My first impression of Owen had been terrifying; then again, I’d thought he kidnapped me, so give me a pass, okay?

But then I’d seen him practically shaking in fear of Lyre. I guess one just can’t undo the memory of being a frog.

And now he’s so bold in front of the Lycan King.

This must be the power of parenthood; the fierce protectiveness to override even reasonable fear.

Or maybe... maybe he’s just not very afraid of Caine. And if he isn’t very afraid of Caine... how powerful is Owen?

For that matter, precisely how powerful is Lyre then...?

I side-eye her, taking in her relaxed posture, the way she watches the standoff like it’s mildly entertaining. She catches me looking and arches one brow.

"What?" she asks.

"Nothing," I say quickly, looking away.

Caine grunts, stepping around me to get closer to Owen, and Lyre pulls me back by the back of my shirt so I’m no longer in between them.

My heart rate spikes.

"Caine, don’t—"

But instead of the posturing I’m expecting (or, you know, something more violent), he smacks Owen on the shoulder, squeezing hard. "I understand."

Lyre leans an arm against my shoulder; it’s quickly becoming a habit with her. "Wow. The big, bad Lycan King is finally learning manners."