Filed to story: My Kidnapper Is the Wolf King
Claire looks guarded when her attention turns to the dark-haired alpha of Lowfell.
Dimples puncture Blake’s cheeks, but his eyes are cold. “Welcome to Lowfell. Please, come and join us.”
Her gaze falls on me. She looks like she’s assessing me, measuring me up, and I do the same. Finally, a smile ghosts her lips.
“It’s nice to see another woman up here. Even if you are a southerner.” She turns to Callum. “We need to speak. Alone.”
He inclines his head. “Aye. Later.”
She sits down beside Jack, who grins and starts a conversation with her. Callum drops into his chair and the music resumes. He squeezes my thigh underneath the table, as if he can see the questions in my eyes.
“Later,” he repeats softly.
When the food has been cleared, the bagpipe music becomes louder and more unruly, and Wolves dance raucously in the center of the hall. Their violent movements as they spin one another around mirrors the storm brewing in my chest when Callum and Claire leave the Great Hall to speak in private.
I want my blood to stop howling, and my mind to still. I wonder whether the wolf that must exist inside me is making me feel like this. I don’t like that they’re alone together. The human part of me is just as unsettled, unhappy to be pushed aside once more while important matters are being discussed.
I swallow my emotion. I need to pull myself together. Callum needs to find out what Claire is doing here.
“Would you like to dance?” A male Northlands voice makes me start.
Lochlan stands in front of the table, elegant hand outstretched. His eyes dance with amusement. I’m not entirely sure what to make of him. Partially because he seems to likes Blake more than Callum.
I rise from my chair. “Of course. Though you’ll have to teach me the moves.”
“Your people didn’t teach you the dances of Wolves?” Lochlan says, and I feel the slight challenge coming from him, the assertion that I don’t belong.
“There are many things my people don’t know about Wolves,” I admit carefully as I walk around the table to join him. “We’re at war, after all. But I’ve learned much, since I arrived here.”
“We’re not at war with your people,” says Lochlan, when I place my hand in his.
I frown as he leads me to the dancefloor. “We were once, of course. Many centuries ago, when they invaded Glas-Cladach in their longboats and ravaged our villages. When peace was sought, many of them settled and live among us now.” He grins wolfishly at my perplexity. “Oh, you think I’m speaking of the southerners. No. I’m referring to your real people-the Wolves of the Snowlands.” My heart beats faster at the mention of my mother’s homeland. “Many of my clan were sad to hear of your mother’s death.”
The Wolves around me blur as they create two lines that face one another, and get ready for the next dance. “They knew of her?”
“The youth forget the Snowlands blood that runs through their veins. The elders prayed for her safety when she married your father.”
The chatter, the clink of glasses, the crackle in the hearth-it all fades. “She really was a wolf?”
“Not many knew her true identity, of course, even here in the Northlands. We at Glas-Cladach suspected. Many hoped she would overthrow your father someday, and bring about a new era for Wolves. Alas, that was not the case.” He assesses me. “Although perhaps hope is not lost yet.”
My mind is whirling with information, but the music starts. It’s so loud I can barely hear myself think.
“What was it you wanted to speak to me about?” I raise my voice.
“Tomorrow morning, meet my by the loch. For now. . .” Lochlan steps closer to me and grins. “Let’s dance.”
I quickly pick up the dance as Lochlan guides me through it.
It’s a lively one that entails lots of looping arms with the nearest wolf, and swinging them around the dancefloor. My inhibitions start to dissipate, and it’s not long before laughter spills from my lips. In the Southlands, I always felt constrained when dancing at balls in the palace-like a puppet who had to perform every move correctly. There is something more unruly in this dance, as if the steps don’t really matter as long as fun is had.
Every so often, I feel Blake’s gaze, weighted on my skin. I try to ignore it.
Lochlan tells me things about his territory every time I link arms with him-it’s by the sea, he has the second biggest army in the Northlands, and many Wolves take a pilgrimage to the cliffs. Apparently,
Ghealach was once said to have visited, and now a vast crop of moonflower grows there to offer small morsels of her power to those who smell its sweet perfume.
When the song ends, and the bagpipe player by the doors asks for any requests, Lochlan offers me his hand. Blake steps beside him.
My pulse kicks up, and my body instinctively tenses. I pull my emotions back, cage them in a box in my chest, desperate to keep them away from him. His posture is straight beneath his dark coat, and his expression carefully blank. When his eyes meet mine, the corner of his lip quirks slightly.
“Mind if I cut in?” he asks.
Chapter Eighteen
Some instilled sense of duty, of ladylike politeness, stops me from rejecting Blake on the spot, from slapping him in the face like I did two nights ago. It’s so deep-seated that it’s like instinct. My body locks up, and my smile doesn’t falter. By the time my mind has taken charge of my body, Lochlan is stepping aside.
He surveys Blake, and I think I catch a hint of heat in his eyes before he grins at me. “Who am I to stand in the way of an alpha and the newest member of his clan?”
Lochlan inclines his head, then walks through the Wolves crowded on the dancefloor to one of the tables. Blake steps closer. His scent of night-soaked pine curls around me, and adrenaline courses through me, making the faces around me blur.
“I’m not dancing with you,” I say.
“At least you’re talking to me now.”
A feral sound starts to build inside me, and I swallow it. I turn away. He grabs my arm, and I spin around. His face is so close that his breath mingles with mine.
“What do you want from me?” I ask. “You betrayed me. You linked our lives. You bit me. You intend to kill Callum. Can’t you just leave me alone?”
“No.” He drags his teeth over his bottom lip. “I’m your alpha. It looks bad, if you turn me down.”
“Good.” I don’t even bother arguing that he is not my alpha. I won’t give him the satisfaction.
“Don’t you want to know about the bond?”
Iknow he’s trying to provoke me. I can feel that dark thread of his inside me, curling around my emotions, trying to get me to react.
Don’t bite. Don’t bite. Don’t-
“What about it?”
“You want to break it, don’t you?”
He smiles slowly, irritating dimples creasing his cheeks. He has me, and he knows it. He holds out his hand, his meaning clear:
Dance with me and find out.
I narrow my eyes. He must feel my cold pulse of anger. I don’t even know if it’s aimed at him or myself, because I’m actually considering it. My fingers flex at my sides. I feel the moment he thinks he’s won-a triumphant burst of power in my chest. I can’t stand it. I ball my hand into a fist and walk toward the alpha table.
“I could make you dance with me, you know.” His voice slices through the sound of people talking, and I halt. “Ah, Callum told you about the Àithne, then.”
“That would only work if you were my alpha, and you’re not.” I force my body to soften, and face him. Around us, Wolves are lining up on either side of the dancefloor for the next dance. “You would not use it on me, anyway.”
“What makes you so sure?”
I shrug, though as I say it, I’m certain it’s true. “You’re perpetually bored, Blake. You toy with people to entertain yourself. You would gain no enjoyment from forcing someone to do something against their will.”
“Should we put your theory to the test?”
A challenge dances in his eyes, which glint in the candlelight. I raise my chin. “Go on then. Use your command on me. Order me to dance with you. It’s the only way I ever will.”
He angles his head slightly. Perhaps I’m playing with fire. I’m curious to see how it works. He may use this against Callum and me at some point, and I may as well prepare myself for it.
A slow, dangerous smile spreads across his face. He holds out his hand. “Dance with me.”
I wait to feel something, anything, at his command. I fight my eyeroll. I knew he would have no power over me, because he is not my alpha.