Filed to story: My Kidnapper Is the Wolf King
“Goddess, Blake! Are you going to tell me the message?” growls Callum. “Or am I going to beat it out of you?”
Blake’s eyes glint. He clearly enjoys provoking Callum. “He’s in trouble. He needs your help.”
“What trouble?” Despite the anger rippling out of Callum, I catch a hint of concern in his voice.
“Perhaps we should go somewhere private to speak. When you’ve finished washing your pet, of course.”
My blood heats, and I straighten as I try to compose myself.
I catch the flash of interest in Blake’s eyes when he catches sight of my upper back. He might have seen the scars that brand my skin. I sink down quickly, and the water sloshes over the side.
“You don’t look at her. You look at me.” Callum moves sideways so his body blocks me from view. “Get the fuck out of my chambers. I’ll meet you downstairs.”
Blake pushes off from the wall. “Look at you, dressing like a Southerner to impress the Princess. Breeches? Whatever would your father say? Goddess rest his soul.”
Callum’s entire body tenses. I remember what he said about his father. Whatever their relationship was, it obviously wasn’t an easy one. Blake has crossed a line.
Something hardens inside me. I forget I’m naked and vulnerable.
I want to get under Blake’s skin.
“Do the other Wolves know?” I ask him.
“Know what?”
“That you’re ashamed of being a wolf.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You weren’t at the ritual last night.” I recall the groans of pain that drew me out of my chambers, and the struggle on Blake’s face when I walked in on him. “You were trying not to shift.”
His head tilts, reminding me of a cat deciding whether it wants to play with a mouse. “Do you know?”
“Know what?”
“Why your mother died?”
All the blood drains from my body. Time slows. I am no longer a living, breathing, thing.
I am rage.
“That’s enough.” Callum’s voice pulls me back into my body.
“She died of a disease,” I snarl.
“Did she?” says Blake.
“Out.” Callum growls.
“Now.”
Blake steps back into the corridor.
“Wait.” I cringe at the desperation in my voice.
Both males turn to me, but only Callum seems surprised at my outburst.
“Do you know what she died of?” I ask Blake.
“No,” he says. “But I’d like to. Wouldn’t you?”
He turns on his heel, and disappears from sight.
Callum shuts the door. The wolf is in his eyes, provoked by anger this time. His expression softens as he looks at me. “Are you okay, Princess?”
My heart is beating too fast.
“Yes,” I say quietly, though I’m not sure if I am.
I feel exposed again. Small. Silly. What was I thinking? I should not have been this bold. Nothing good could come of it.
Callum grabs a shirt from his wardrobe and pulls it on. “I’m sorry, Princess, but I have to go. I need to find out what’s going on. If James is in trouble. . .”
“Blake could be lying.”
He runs a hand over the back of his neck. “He wasn’t. His heartbeat was steady. I believe him. Finish your bath. I’ll come for you later.”
He heads across the room, fastening his buttons. When he’s opened the door, he looks over his shoulder. His eyes darken, and he blinks a couple of times before blowing out hot air.
“It’s probably for the best,” he mutters.
I’m not sure whether he’s talking to me or himself as he heads into the corridor and closes the door behind him.
***
I finish my bath quickly.
I’m not sure how to feel about what just happened. It’s the boldest thing I’ve ever done, and if my father ever found out, I’d be severely punished.
Still, Callum’s touch lingers on my skin. I think he was going to kiss me, and what’s more, I wanted him to. He has provoked a restlessness inside me that I have never felt before.
I almost miss the days when I felt nothing at all.
I dry off, and when he hasn’t returned, I dress and head back to my chambers.
I hurry past Isla on my way, trying not to react as she mutters something derogatory about me to her friend.
Mrs. McDonald told me I didn’t have to help in the kitchens today, so I spend my time poring over the medical books in my chambers.
Blake’s words about my mother have taken root in my mind. I cannot get rid of them.
I read until darkness creeps through my window, and I have to strain to read the blurred ink on parchment.
When Callum still hasn’t come, I wonder whether he’s ridden out to some Northlands village to find the king. It angers me that he would go without telling me.
Yet after the events of last night, I am finding it hard to keep my eyes open.
I shut them.
I’m in the forest, lying on my back.
The moonlight seeps through the branches overhead.
Callum’s face hovers above mine. His body pins me to the fresh earth and his body heat sears into me. He is naked, and I feel the hardness of him against my hip.
A growl reverberates through my chest, though I am not sure if it is coming from him or me as his lips move to my jaw, my neck, my collarbone. My legs wrap around his waist.