Filed to story: My Kidnapper Is the Wolf King
A floorboard creaks. The mattress dips by my bare feet. A wave of heat washes over me, along with the scent of male and the mountains.
“Look at me.” The words are gentle but authoritative. A hand cups my cheek-callused and strong, yet careful. “Look at me.” More demanding. This is the voice of someone who is used to people doing as they say.
Helpless, I bring my gaze up.
“That’s it. Eyes on me. Now breathe.”
I suck in air, letting it fill my lungs, letting it clear away the darkness.
“Good lass. Come on. Breathe with me. In. . . and out. . .”
My heartbeat stops its cacophony in my ears. We’ve done this before, I think-in the kennels beneath Sebastian’s castle.
Sebastian. Goddess. I killed Sebastian.
A fresh wave of panic cascades over me.
“Princess.” The word is sharp and commanding. “Breathe. In. . . and out. . .”
A half-burned candle flickers on the bedside table next to a cup and a pile of books. A decanter of whisky sits on the mantlepiece where Blake left it. There’s a throbbing pain in my side. James bit me-only hours ago.
Rain patters against the window.
“That’s it. Come back to me, Princess.”
Warmth radiates from the figure before me. The tight grip around my lungs eases, and my breaths come easier. “Callum?”
“Aye. I’m here.”
Callum’s expression is gentle, at odds with the tension in his body and the hard biceps straining against his shirt. His hair, the color of dark sand, is brushed back from his forehead, and his green eyes flicker with concern.
“Are you in pain?” His forehead creases. “Do I need to get Blake?”
“No. . . I. . . it was just a nightmare, I think.” I release a breath.
“What did you dream about?”
I shake my head as I try to remember. “I was in a prison, and Blake was there, and something was pursuing me. And. . .” I tense as our conversation earlier this evening comes back to me. I bring my knees to my chest. “Goddess, I need to tell you something about Blake. He’s plotting against you.”
Callum frowns. “What?”
“Everything he did. . . that bond he created that links my life to his. . . It was all part of a plan to steal the Wolf Throne. He’s going to help you become the Wolf King, then he’s going to challenge you. He knows he’ll win, because our lives are linked. You won’t kill him, because if you do, I’ll die too.”
Callum tenses. “He told you this?”
“Yes.”
Callum stares at me for a moment, his biceps like steel. A soft laugh escapes him and warms the cool air.
“This doesn’t concern you?” I ask.
“Oh, it concerns me. It’s just. . . I couldn’t understand it, before. Why he’d done it. He threw everything away that he’d spent years working for. He set me free, he fought James, and when he saw you dying. . . His face. . .” He swallows. “He saved your life. I’ve been searching for the reason for it since we got here, and I could find none. I started to think. . .” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what I thought. But this. . .
this. . .
makes sense. I find comfort in that, I suppose. Even if it complicates things somewhat.”
“We need to break the connection between Blake and me.”
“We do. But he won’t try to kill me until I’ve won the throne.”
My pulse quickens. “You think he’ll try and kill you.”
“I’m certain of it. I forfeited to James, and for years, people have speculated about what would have happened if we’d fought. It weakens his claim. Blake won’t allow himself to be seen as weak.” I grip Callum’s wrist like I’m scared he’s going to be ripped away, and Callum smiles. “He will not defeat me. We have time. Until then, he could be useful. Get some rest, and we can worry about it later.” He runs his thumb along my cheek. “I’m sorry I left you alone. With all the chaos of the battle, it was the best time to get one of Blake’s messengers into the castle to send word to Fiona and Ryan.”
“I know. I understand.”
My blood warms at the proximity of him. This time it’s not fear that pumps through my veins. It’s something raw and feral that wants release.
Callum’s expression darkens. “Princess. . .” His voice is rough and low, almost a warning.
I reach for his face, desperate to pull him closer. Pain bursts in my side where James bit me, and I wince, my hand hovering above the sheets.
Callum’s jaw clenches as his gaze drops to my waist. “Can I see?”
I inch back on the bed, then lie down on the pillows.
Callum peels back the bedsheets. He shifts, bringing one of my bare legs over his lap as he leans over me. Weeks ago, the thought of being exposed like this-in a man’s shirt and my underwear-before the alpha of Highfell would have scared me. Now, it makes my breathing quicken.
He undoes the button, just beneath my breasts, then gently makes his way down. His thumbs and fingers lightly brush my skin. He draws the shirt apart to expose my midriff, and though the cool air touches me, I’m burning.
I want him, I realize. I want him urgently. Desperately. I want his hands on my body, and to dig my fingers into his muscles. I want the warmth of his mouth. I want to climb on top of him and claim him as mine. I want him in a way I’ve never wanted anything before in my life.
I don’t know what has come over me. Perhaps I feel like this because I almost died tonight. Perhaps I want to cast away the cold shadow of whatever nightmare awoke me. But I want to feel warm. I want to feel alive.
I want to expel this energy that’s coursing through me.
Callum stills. I prop myself on my elbows. There’s a long jagged scar across my waist and torso where James sank his teeth into me. The skin around it is red, but it must look a lot better than it did only hours ago when I was bleeding on the grass.
I should be worried about it, yet I watch Callum, fascinated. He looks so intense, so impenetrable. His expression is like stone, and he’s every bit the warrior I first saw at the dog fight in Sebastian’s castle.
The wolf flickers behind his eyes. For a moment, I wonder if he has sensed the change in me-this need.
While my anger is mostly directed at Blake for using me as a pawn in his games, Callum’s seems wholly reserved for his brother. “He will die for this.”
It sounds like a promise and it heats my blood more. It’s not just that he cares that I’m hurt-there’s something more primal to it. Possessive. As if he can’t bear that his brother has marked my body.
I’m on fire. A furnace.
Goddess, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I need it to stop. I ache for him. My skin is sensitive, and I shift on the mattress. The strange urge to bite something comes over me. I feel almost feverish. A soft shaky breath escapes me.
Every muscle in Callum’s body becomes rigid.
His gaze snaps to the place between my legs, which now throbs with need, as if he can sense what I’m feeling. I’m only thinly covered by my underwear, and I feel myself getting hotter and damper. He sucks his bottom lip. A soft growl comes from his throat.
When he meets my eyes, his wolf is there, dark and beautiful and powerful. He blinks a couple of times as if he’s trying to pull it back.
“I thought I’d lost you, tonight.” His words are strained.
“You did, for a while. But you found me.” I smile. “Come here.”
He takes a deep breath as he seemingly tries to settle himself.
I’m injured. No doubt, he thinks me a fragile thing that he doesn’t want to break. Goddess, I want to be broken. I want to be consumed. I want to release this caged beast that’s pacing, agitated, inside me. I want all the horrors of tonight to disappear.
“Don’t,” I whisper. “Don’t be a gentleman.”