Filed to story: My Kidnapper Is the Wolf King
I pad across the cold floorboards toward him, but when he growls, I still.
“Don’t,” he says, and there is power in his command. I freeze, my expression hardening.
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
He takes a deep breath. Then he turns to the door.
“What are you doing?” My voice is sharp as it cuts through the shadows.
“I must go.”
I feel like I’m being doused with ice-cold water. I have just shared something with him that I have shared with no man before. Something that is forbidden to me. And now he is just going to leave?
Something inside my chest shatters like glass, sharp and painful.
I swallow, then raise my chin-trying to look like a noble lady even though I’m wearing a nightgown and have just experienced something I shouldn’t have.
“Yes. You must,” I say. “It was inappropriate for you to come here at this hour. I am the princess of the Southlands, and I am betrothed to another man. You have taken too many liberties with me.”
His shoulders tense, and his face falls. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Princess.”
My heart breaks. I want him to fight for me, to tell me that he’s never giving me back to Sebastian.
But I put on my mask, and do not let him see.
His footsteps are hurried as he leaves, as though he cannot get away from me fast enough.
I stare at the closed door, my breathing ragged.
I want to scream. I want to tear through the forest and howl into the wind. Instead, I do what I always do, and swallow it. I swallow the feelings and the hurt and the rage. I let the darkness wrap around me, the shadows dousing the flames in my soul, until I am cold and empty.
Later, as I lie down on my pillows, and recall what happened, something occurs to me.
Callum was scared.
Tomorrow, I will find out why.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
There’s a knock at door, waking me.
How can I face Callum this morning?
I lock away the shame that creeps through my body when I remember how bold I was, when I remember how angry I was when he left. I lock away other feelings too-feelings I do not want to acknowledge. Feelings that heat my blood, and rattle my soul. I push away the strange dreams of Wolves and mountains and monsters in the dark, too.
I take a deep breath. “Come in.”
“Hello, little rabbit.”
My stomach drops and I jolt upright, the sheets dropping to my midriff.
Blake leans in the doorway. He’s wearing dark breeches and a well-fitting black shirt. He looks like a villainous prince from the kinds of stories my mother would tell me. His dark hair, slightly messy like he’s been running his fingers through it, only adds to the effect.
I am not in the mood for him this morning. “What are you doing here?”
I glance at my bedside table, looking for the silver letter opener I brought here. There is only a pile of medical books, an almost burnt-out candle, and Callum’s red tartan collar on its surface.
“Looking for something?” he asks.
He pulls a small cloth package out of his pocket, and unwraps it to reveal my silver blade within. I’d forgotten that I’d thrown it at him during the full moon.
He holds it out to me and it gleams in the cold sunlight.
Warily, I slide out of bed, and pad across the floor toward him. He tracks my movements. When I reach for it, his lips part slightly.
I drop my arm to my side. “Why do you want me to take it so much? What have you done to it?”
“Nothing.”
He seems to study me. He’s tall, and I have to look up. I feel like he’s challenging me, and I don’t want to back down. I cannot help the small burst of interest that sparks inside me, too.
Like Callum, Blake is an alpha. He must be around the same age, too. He has the Southlands accent, and says he worked in the King’s Guard. How did he rise to such a high position among the Wolves?
“Why did you choose to come here, little rabbit?” asks Blake.
“I didn’t. I was kidnapped.”
“Hm.” His eyes gleam, as if he knows I am lying.
He removes the letter opener from the cloth and his skin hisses as the silver touches his skin.
He flips it over so he’s holding the blade, and offers me the hilt.
“I’ve done nothing to it,” he says. “Take it.”
I let him hold it for a moment longer, knowing it is burning his skin. Then I take it. His gaze flits to my hand, my face. Curiosity blazes in his eyes.
His expression settles back to boredom as he walks over to my bookshelf.
“Get out of my chambers,” I say.
He runs his index finger along the dusty spines. “Are you sure they’re your chambers?”
A horrible feeling washes over me. I glance at the piles of medical tomes, the strange pots of herbs, and that dark book of handwritten experiments that I’ve been reading.
I told myself I never wanted to meet the previous inhabitant of this room.
I stare at Blake’s back as he thumbs through the books.
“This was your room, wasn’t it?” I say flatly.
“This is my room. I no longer reside here, but I use it for some of my most interesting possessions.”
I don’t like the way he says that-as if he’s storing me in here, too. “Get out, Blake. Callum won’t be pleased when I tell him about this.”
Blake turns and props an elbow on the bookshelf. “Did he not tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“Callum’s not here.”
I frown. “You’re lying.”
A dimple punctures his cheek. “He rode out this morning. He’s gone to find the Wolf King.”
My insides turn to ice.