Filed to story: My Kidnapper Is the Wolf King
His jawline hardens. “Aye, that long. And I denied it at first. But James told Blake to kiss you, and I couldn’t hide from it any longer. I scented it, I saw the way he reacted to you, and I tried to tell myself I was mistaken. Until I read the pages in Blake’s book the moment I returned to Madadh-allaidh, and I knew it to be true.” His accent gets thicker as he gets more agitated. “What am I supposed to do? Give you my blessing? You’re his m-“
“Do not finish that sentence!” My nightdress and robe stick to my body. The water is warm, and splashes around my stomach. My curves press against his chest, and one of his hands is clamped on my waist-hot and firm as iron. “You’re supposed to tell me so we can fix it!”
“You’re not a full wolf. You don’t understand.” His hot breath mingles with mine. “There is no fixing it. There is no choice in it.” A muscle throbs in his neck. “The bond is unbreakable, and I do not share. I want all of you, heart, body, and soul. I will take no less.”
“What about what
Iwant? Do you care about that?”
“You do not know what you want, Princess. You didn’t know on the night I took you, and I don’t think you’re any closer to answering that question now!”
His heartbeat thunders in my ears with my own, furious, restless. “What’s next, Callum? Are you going to keep me brushed aside, out of the way, kept in a room in your castle while Blake is locked away in-“
“Do not speak to me of him.”
His eyes blaze and his cheeks flush as he leans closer to me, pulling our bodies flush. “What would you have me do? You are the moon to me, Rory. Every time I set eyes on you, my soul is aflame. The wolf inside me presses against my skin, it howls in my blood, and roars in my ears-and you would not like the things it wants me to do. Every night, I have thought of you. I have imagined myself buried inside of you, sinking my teeth into you, claiming you as mine while cursing my goddess for not giving you to me. I have left my door unlocked, praying you would come while hoping you wouldn’t.”
Something coils, hot, inside me at his words. It aches. It burns. My teeth hurt, and my nails are claws. That wild thing in my ribs thrashes against its cage. A low growl builds, unbidden, in my chest.
Bite. Bite. Bite.
Callum’s nostrils flare. He answers with a growl of his own and his hard wet chest vibrates against my peaked nipples. His fingers dig into my sides.
“Do not test me, Princess,” he says. I know I should get a hold of myself. I know this is wrong and we need to talk. I know the nature of the bond changes things for him, and I’m furious because of it. I can’t stop. I tremble with the force of containing my emotion. He cups my face with his hands. “Princess, I advise you to get out of this tub and walk away. You don’t want this.”
“You don’t get to tell me what I want. I’m fed up of people telling me what I want.
Idecide what I want!”
My chest heaves against his. I want him. Right now. I want him buried inside me while I take my pleasure from him. I want him moaning, gasping, beneath me. I want him to pay for all of this. I want him at my mercy.
His breathing deepens. Conflict flickers across his face as he presses his forehead to mine. “Rory, tell me what you want.”
Chapter Fifty-One
Tell me what you want.
Callum’s hands are firm yet gentle on my cheeks. My nightdress is sopping wet beneath my robe. My core presses against his hard torso. Both of us are breathing deeply.
I use his shoulders to push myself upright. The wet tips of my hair touch his shoulders, and his eyes darken on my chest where my nightdress has become translucent. His face is strained, like he’s battling with himself. I take his hand and put it on my breast. He makes a low sound. He squeezes, then brushes his thumb over my peaked nipple. My back arches in response.
“You. I want you.”
A low, guttural growl vibrates in his chest. In a sudden movement, he slides up, grips my thighs, and hoists me up as he stands. Water cascades off both of us as he steps out of the bath. He crouches down to lay me atop the sheepskin rug between the fire and the copper tub. He hovers over me, his knees between my thighs, and his hands on either side of my waist. My breaths are shaky as he crawls over me, and brings his mouth close to mine.
“I want. . . I want. . .” I can’t express in words what I want, what I need. For once, I want him to stop holding back. “I want you to consume me,” I breathe. “I want you to unleash. I want you to break me so I forget everything other than you. I want you to take me in the way that you want to.”
He offers me a sad smile as he brushes a strand of wet hair from my cheek. “I will worship you.” He brushes his lips against my throat. “Cherish you.” He kisses me. “Honor you.” He nips my earlobe with his teeth, and I squirm. “Tease you.” His mouth hovers over mine. “But break you? No. You cannot ask that of me. If I’m to take you the way I want, I will have you gently, and deeply, and slowly.” He brushes his lips against mine. “Can you accept that?”
And because I would rather have part of him than none at all, I nod.
“Good. Because there’s no loch in the Northlands cold enough to dowse the fire in my blood right now.”
He slides my underwear down my legs. Then he reaches between us, and guides himself to my entrance. My back arches as he pushes, slowly, inside me. We both groan. He fills me completely. Both of our pulses thunder in my ears. His scent overwhelms me.
He takes my face in his hands. “Your eyes,” he whispers, and I know they must have changed.
Softly, he kisses me. He thrusts his hips in deep, languid movements, as though he’s savoring every moment. It feels so good;
he feels so good. I rock against him, and my fingers find his shoulder muscles and dig in. I curl my ankles around his back, and he shifts me so my hips are tilted up and he can hit deeper.
Something builds, hot and hungry, between us. I can practically sense his wolf, close to the surface, pressing at his skin. Mine answers, teeth bared, claws sharp. He groans and quickens his pace. My core slams against his abdomen, building sweet friction between us that makes me moan. His pulse thunders in my ears, frantic and unsteady, and I feel his control start to slip.
“It’s okay,” I mumble against his mouth. “Let go.”
He takes two shuddering breaths. For once, he submits to my will, though he makes no question of who is in charge. He thrusts his hips, hard. I cry out. He grabs my wrists and pins them above my head, as he moves against me. His mouth moves to my neck. I rock against him, meeting his thrusts, desperate for more. He mumbles against me, words in a language I don’t understand.
I writhe against him and dig my nails into his skin. He brings his lips to my throat. “Fuck,” he murmurs against my ear. “Fuck.
“
His expression is strained, his cheeks flushed. His whole body tenses, and a rough cry escapes from his lips as he lets go. It pushes me over the edge. For a moment, that wildness bursts from its confines, and I’m free. I’m weightless. The scream that has been building inside me comes out in a series of cries as he holds me together, and I melt in his arms.
He mumbles against my neck as I come back to myself. Finally, he brings his gaze to mine. He’s as breathless as I am. He looks utterly undone-face flushed, eyes bright, lips swollen. I don’t know what to say. I don’t think he does, either. He seems familiar, yet strange at the same time.
He huffs a soft laugh, slightly sheepish. I return it.
He slides out of me, and rolls onto the rug. We face one another, and I stroke his hot cheek. He smiles, but there’s sadness in it. “What do you want now, Princess?” The question is weighted, heavy, because he isn’t asking about tonight, he’s asking about the future. Our future.
I swallow. “You cannot make peace with it, can you?”
He places his hand on the small of my back and brings me close. “I tried to make peace with it. I tried to let you go. I tried to pretend it wasn’t real, and that it was all in my head. I failed.” He shakes his head. “The
Anam-Cridech, it’s sacred. If anyone found out what we have just done. . .if they knew what I had just done with another wolf’s-” He clears his throat. “It’s not done in our kingdom.”
“You want to end things between us, don’t you?” I should feel hurt, yet a strange calmness settles over me.
“It’s the last thing in this world that I want. You’re bound to him, regardless of my desire.” Tears glisten in his eyes as he strokes my cheek. “If things were different. . .”
I incline my head as my decision solidifies. “The moon’s power can break the bond, Callum. I’m going to find the Heart of the Moon. I’ll use it to break the bond, then I’ll bring it back to you.” A soft smile graces his lips, though there is a glimmer of disbelief in his eyes. “You don’t believe me?”
“I don’t believe the bond can be broken, Princess.”
My jaw hardens. “I have to try.”
He pushes his forehead against mine. “Fearsome creature.”
“Wolf.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
Iwake sometime in the morning.
The fire has died, and there is only ash in the hearth. Darkness stains the floorboards, and the rain patters against the window. Still, I’m not cold.
Callum lies on his front. His heat sears me, and his scent is overpowering. I think I must be finally accepting that wolf part of myself, because I smell him all over me. Mountains and the dawn light, a hint of woodsmoke. His hand is inches from mine on the mattress, as if he reached for me in his sleep but fell short.
He seems so close, yet further away than ever. I understand now what plagues him. I understand how this bond-this unbreakable bond-with Blake tortures him, just like it tortures me. I understand that for him, it changes things. Things have changed, I suppose, for me, too, though I like to think that if things were reversed, I would at least fight for him.
Perhaps it’s because I’m not a wolf, or not a full wolf anyway. I’ve not grown up in the light of the Moon Goddess. Breaking a bond she has made doesn’t seem like sacrilege to me.
In spite of everything, a strange peace settles over me. There’s something growing in me that I don’t understand. Something awoke within me long before I was bitten by James. The night I took Callum’s hand, and came with him to the Northlands, it burst into existence, and it has been agitated since.
I’ve struggled to find my place here. I’ve always been defined by my relationships to other people. Even now, that is the case. The Wolves see me as either the daughter of their enemy, or the consort to their king, and-if the truth about the bond comes out-they will define me by my connection to Blake as well.
It’s stifling. Constricting. I wish, for a short time at least, to be free of it all. To find out who I am outside of that cage. Blake was looking into my ancestry, Philip has made a strange allegiance with the Snowlands queen, and my mother. . . Lochlan thinks she had the Heart of the Moon at some point.