Chapter 1
“Looking good, little cub.”
His voice brought Grace sharply from the orange glow glittering over the silvery chain as she carefully set it down before flicking up the magnifying goggles, grinning at Anthony as he leaned against one of the wooden posts that supported the open-sided roof of their workshop. “Thanks, Dad.”
A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, the warmth in his eyes the only real reason she called him dad. The sentiment did feel right though, he treated her like the Alpha treated his girl… pup.
“Nearly finished?” He set his calloused hand cautiously on her shoulder, His palm was warm, almost matching the heat of the fire, though it carried the earthy scent of the woods beyond the forge.
She nodded sharply to slam the goggles back in place like he did for his welding mask both relieved and somewhat cold when he removed the warmth of his hand.
“I’ve set the alarm for six, shall I meet you by the fireside or come get you?”
“I’ll come when the alarm goes.”
“Sure?”
She rummaged in the haphazard drawer set beneath the workbench as an afterthought, pushing aside tongs and different sized tweezers before finding the pair she wanted. “Jeesh, you forget once,” she grumbled. She hadn’t actually forgot that time…
“I think we’re on the tenth,” he retorted jovially.
She bit her lip. Yeah, she’d totally forgot. OK, she had a few times… but she’d also just not turned up.
She didn’t need to be there like Anthony. He was important. The pack smith.
She was just an assistant. An outsider.
“Alright, you forget ten times and, boom, no one thinks you’ll remember to turn up,” she injected mirth into her voice instead of the dreaded panic. Loneliness.
“Would you like me to come and get you?” Anthony asked without a hint that it would be inconveniencing him… even though she knew it would.
She turned slightly to see his massive quirked eyebrow in her magnifier. “I’ll remember!”
Once upon a time, she would have never argued against Anthony, she saw it as progress in the last ten years.
Nodding, he disappeared behind the trees just outside of the forge. “Alright, little cub, I’ll see you at the pack meeting.” She could hear the rustling of him undressing before his large tea-coloured wolf stepped out a moment later. He approached where she was working, bumping his muzzle against her shoulder. She could accept his touch more when he was beast. His calming canine scent accompanied the soft fur as she petted between his ears with one hand, still focusing on the chain as his head wound around her shoulders, embracing her in warmth.
“Go for that run,” she shooed him with a chuckle in her tone.
He huffed but released her, bumping her one last time for good measure. Letting her focus on her work again, he padded off, his paws increasing in speed before fading and she knew she was alone to work with the heat from the forge’s fire wrapped around her like a second skin, a comforting presence against the cool nip of the breeze sneaking in from the forest Anthony had disappeared into.
A few hours later, Grace held the chain to her neck, its smooth, cool links brushing her skin. She tilted her head to one side, catching the light from the forge’s embers as the necklace’s soft gleam shifted between gold and silver hues. Perfect. A simmering pride warmed her chest as she linked the last tiny hoop, completing the continuous chain.
“Alright, stranger,” came a familiar voice, low and teasing.
She smiled at her work, not bothering to look up. “Only stranger here is you,” she replied easily, letting the satisfaction of her finished piece linger a moment longer.
“Shit. You’re right.”
A shiver ran down her spine as she felt him behind her before she saw him. The faint scent of pine and something unmistakably Luca mingled with the smoky air. She glanced over her shoulder to find his stupid grin waiting for her.
“However,” he continued, stepping closer, “this stranger has some news for you.”
“Uhuh,” she said, keeping her focus on the necklace, though her fingers slowed.
“You’re late.”
She straightened instinctively, her legs shooting up from the stool. Her back collided with his chest, startling her enough to drop the chain. Her hand darted out to grab it, and she steadied herself before his inevitable attempt to catch her.
Spinning around, she shot him a glare, glad when he took a step back. “Oh Goddess, your face,” he said, his grin stretching even wider.
“Luca! You scared the shit out of me!”
“So worth it.”
“Not funny, dick.”
“You know you shouldn’t call your future alpha names… right?”
She snorted, waving him off as she wrapped the chain protectively in a soft cloth. “I don’t think the future alpha is supposed to be an immature child.”
Luca puffed out his chest dramatically. “I am not a pup.”
“Uhuh.”
“I’m not!” he whined, the sound escaping him in a pitch far too high to be anything but canine.
Grace stifled a laugh. “Pretty sure I heard that sound come out of your mouth the first time I met you.”
He pouted, then straightened, and for a moment his grin softened into something more sincere. “We got like… a bit of time. Want to practise?” He moved toward one of the cluttered drawers, tugging it open with a slight creak.
“We got time?” she asked, a little unsure after his earlier joke.
“I’d never make you late to a pack meeting. Anthony would have my hide.”
“Hmm, true,” she said, watching him pull out a handful of knives, their sharp edges gleaming faintly in the dim workshop light.
He handed her three of them, the cold metal fitting snugly in her palm. She chinked them together, enjoying the subtle imperfections in the steel—flaws that only added to how perfectly they felt like an extension of her.
“You sure Anthony would care?” she asked absently, spinning one blade between her fingers.
“Oh, he’d care,” Luca said, grabbing his own knife and tossing it lightly into the air before catching it.
“Make it interesting?” Luca pulled a rabbit tail from his pocket.
“Poor flopsy,” she mumbled, eyeing the tail cross between mock concern and real sympathy for the bunny that had died for the tail.
“Flopsy is on the fire for tonight. If you can hit this-” he strolled through the trees to twenty paces away. “-I’ll give you ten Double Deckers.”
She blinked, lowering her knife slightly, “Ten?” Surely she didn’t hear right.
“Not enough?”
“Ten Double Deckers?” she clarified, dumbfounded
“Did I break you?”
“Ten?”
He groaned. “I broke you.”
“All to myself?”
“Jeez, Grace, just hit the damn bunny tail.”
Oh, he was on. She narrowed her eyes, lips twitching into a smirk. “First try?”
“I’ll give you three attempts. You know, I’m nice like that.” He shrugged, throwing his own blade up and down absent-mindedly.
She stretched her shoulders, rolling them to shake off the stiffness from hours hunched over her chain. The cool forest air nipped at her skin, a contrast to the residual warmth of the forge still clinging to her clothes. Her eyes fixed on the tail, which twitched slightly in the light breeze. Not much, but enough to complicate things.
The knife in her hand felt solid, familiar. She adjusted her stance, planting her boots firmly on the uneven ground. Sucking on the inside of her lip, she brought the blade up over her shoulder, flinging her arm forward in a smooth arc. Her wrist flicked just enough to keep the knife steady, no spin.
One moment the blade was leaving her hand, the next, it was buried straight through the middle of the fluff, pinning it to the bark.
“That count?” she asked, feigning casual indifference.
“Jeez, Grace, you been practising without me!” Luca’s laugh rang out, genuine and warm.
“Uh huh.” She turned to grin at him, really proud of herself. She got it first time. She’d get an attacker first time too.
She could be useful.
She wanted to be useful.
He strode up to her, his steps crunching softly on the forest floor. For a moment she thought he was going to fling his arms around her in celebration. Instead, he touched her shoulder, pushing ever so gently. Not like the firm pushes she saw him dole out on the training grounds. This was a barely there shove. “Look at you, all deadly.”
“Definitely deadly,” she echoed, tilting her chin up slightly.
“So fucking proud of you, mite.”
She shifted on the spot, drawing her arms in front of her as her cheeks grew warm. “Thanks, Luca.”
He stepped back, giving her more space and she barely realised her shoulders dropping and her body relaxing with the space.
“You gotta show me how you did that,” he said, grinning again, but softer this time.
They spent the next hour practising, their knives thudding into tree trunks one after another. The air filled with the rhythmic sound, punctuated by their occasional laughter or Luca’s dramatic groans when he missed a throw. By the time the alarm buzzed faintly behind them, the light had shifted so the trees were just dark shadows being swallowed by the woodland around it, the moon not quite high enough to cast shadows.
“Meeting time,” Luca said, wiping his hands on his pants.
“You know I don’t have to come…” Grace started, a familiar hesitation creeping into her voice. “I’m not in the inner-”
“Gonna shut you up right there,” Luca interrupted, raising a hand. “Course you’re inner circle. You’re Anthony’s daughter and you’re basically family to mum and dad.”
“Not to you, eh?” she quipped, trying to keep the mood light, despite the faint anxiety pushing into her mind.
“Ehh.” He waved his hand in a weighing up gesture before she shoved his arm before she could overthink it. The brief contact startled them both, but Luca recovered quickly, grinning like it hadn’t happened. “You’re just that annoying distant cousin of that uncle that isn’t actually family but you’re made to call him uncle cause he once vaguely saved your-”
“Luca? Shut up.”
His grin stretched wider, and his blue eyes twinkled even in the low light. “Come on, let’s go, or we will be late.”
“Wouldn’t want your hide tanned.”
“Just blame you,” he said with a shrug as they headed through the trees. The forest seemed quieter now, the distant murmur of the town ahead mingling with the rustle of leaves underfoot. Grace glanced back at the workshop, the forge’s glow stark but steady against the encroaching night. She liked this place—liked that Anthony had chosen it for them when the pack moved. It felt safe.
The forge was the only place that was completely safe.
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