Filed to story: My Kidnapper Is the Wolf King
“Can I help you?” I ask.
The corner of his mouth lifts. Slowly, he dips his face to my throat and drags his nose over the sensitive skin there. He inhales deeply, and I breathe in sharply. “Are you. . . smelling me?”
“Mmhm,” he mumbles.
I curl my arms around his neck. “For any particular reason?” He opens his mouth, and his breath brushes my ear. “And don’t say it’s a wolf thing.”
He brings his face back to mine and grins. His green eyes gleam in the firelight. “It is a wolf thing.” He slides his big hands up my back, then nips my earlobe with his teeth. Heat coils low in my stomach. “It’s been too long since I’ve been inside you. I want to check that you still smell like me.”
I huff out a laugh. “Oh. It really is a wolf thing.” He drags his tongue up the column of my throat, and I arch my back as a gasp escapes my lips. These Wolves are strange creatures.
“I want Lochlan to know exactly who he’ll be dealing with, if he tries anything.” His voice is low and rough, and something stirs within me.
“And? What do I smell like?”
“Mm. You smell like fresh snow, and moonlight, and honey. You smell delicious.” He nips my skin with his teeth and a soft whimper escapes me. “But not enough like me for my liking.”
He curls his arms around me and pulls. My face falls to his shoulder, and my chest is flush with his. His scent, and the heat of him, it overpowers me-mountains and dawn and Callum. My peaked nipples rub against his skin through the fabric of my dress as he rubs his arms up and down my back. I kiss his collarbone, and his muscles tighten.
“What are you going to do about that?” I ask.
He nuzzles my neck. “I’m doing it now.”
“You can do better than that, can’t you?”
He looks up slowly, and the wolf is in his eyes. I lower my lips to his. He leans forward and claims them. His kiss is hot and deep, and he slides his tongue against mine. A rough sound escapes him. It trembles through me, and I’m suddenly on fire.
I want him. I need him. From his erection that presses against my core through his kilt, I know he feels the same. I move, tentatively, against him.
He groans, and his hands find my hips. “I forgot how good your body felt against mine,” he mumbles.
He moves me against him, his rhythm tortuously slow. Delicious friction builds as my arousal pools between my legs. It’s like there’s something coiling inside me, something that needs release. I capture his lip with my teeth and the sound he makes is feral.
“Now you smell even better,” he groans.
“Because I smell like you?”
“Because you smell like you want me.”
I do. I want his fingers. I want his mouth. I want everything. I want him to bury himself so deeply that all I know is him. I move faster against him, and he dips his lips to my throat and sucks on the skin. His teeth press into me, his canines sharp. I whimper. He groans against me, then suddenly jerks back. Ice floods me as his head hits the back of the chair. The wolf blazes behind his eyes for a split second before he shuts them, and they crease in the corners. “Fuck.”
“Callum?” I breathe. “What’s the matter?”
His cheeks are flushed, lips swollen, and his chest moves deeply. His hands hold me firmly in place. He looks like he’s in pain. “My wolf.” He grits his teeth. “I almost bit you. I don’t. . . I don’t have control.”
I’m breathless, my pulse pounding. “Open your eyes.” He obeys, and my breath catches at the beauty in those wolf irises. I brush my fingertips down the side of his face. “You don’t scare me.”
“I scare myself when I’m with you. The leash I keep myself on always feels frayed. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to push you into a fever for days, again.”
“I trust you.”
“You wouldn’t-not if you knew how loudly my blood howled every time you were near.”
“So, you’re never going to touch me again?”
The corner of his mouth lifts, and there’s a wicked glint in his eyes. “I didn’t say that.” He sucks in a deep breath, tempering his emotions. Then he nods, resolute, as if he has made a decision. “I want to wait until after the full moon. I’m going to wait until you’ve shifted the first time, and I know you can handle me.” He slides a hand onto my cheek, and his expression darkens. “I’m going to wait until your senses are heightened-touch, scent, taste. . .” He runs his thumb over my bottom lip, and my breath hitches. “Then I’m going to take my time exploring every inch of you.” He dips his mouth to my ear. “And I’m going to let the wolf side of me off the leash.”
I breathe in sharply. Desire coils inside me and throbs between my thighs. I turn my head and lean toward him, wanting to kiss him. His hands keep me in place, halt me. He holds me for a moment, as if showing me who is in charge, then he presses a soft, chaste kiss on my lips.
The sound of chatter and footsteps outside our chambers breaks the tension. Callum blinks, and the wolf disappears. “Sounds like people are gathering,” he says. “Come on. Lochlan and his clan will be here soon. We should go.”
Frustration pulses through me. I still feel him, hard, between my legs, so I know he feels the same. Stubborn wolf.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He smiles, somewhat sheepishly, and kisses me again. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to hold you, to kiss you. I didn’t mean for it to get this far.”
“You’re a frustrating wolf, Callum McKennan. Has anyone ever told you that?”
He shrugs. “Some people may have mentioned it. If it makes you feel any better, I’m suffering, too.”
I roll my eyes and climb off him. “It’s suffering of your own devising.” I turn away from him and brush down my dress. “I would have let you take your pleasure from me in any way of your choosing, if you weren’t so stubborn.” I smirk when he stiffens and curses under his breath. I grab my cloak from the foot of the bed and walk toward the door. I look over my shoulder. “Are you coming?”
He gets up, slips on his shirt, and grabs a black coat from the armoire. There’s a dark look in his eyes as he stalks toward me, but it becomes playful as he hooks an arm around my waist, and nips my ear with his teeth. “Bold words, Princess. We’ll see if you feel that way after the full moon.”
Even though the mention of the full moon makes something harden within me, I keep the smile on my face. “What do I smell like now?”
“Mine,” he growls in my ear.
***
There are about thirty Wolves gathered in the small courtyard when we arrive, and the night is filled with excited chatter. Everyone wears a dark cloak or coat-which Callum told me is tradition for this night. Callum threads his fingers with mine and pulls me through the crowd toward Blake.
The Lowfell alpha leans against the castle wall, in conversation with Jack. When the cold wind whips my hair and stirs my cloak, Blake’s nostrils flare. A look of distaste flickers across his expression which he quickly hides. I’m glad the cold disguises my flush. Blake clearly knows exactly what we were just doing. From Jack’s smirk, he does, too.
“Excellent, you’re both here.” Blake’s breath mists in front of his face, and he rubs his hands together. “Are you ready?”
“Aye,” says Callum. “When can we expect Lochlan and his clan?”
A short distance away, Alfie punches an unfazed Arran with his tiny fists, much to the exasperation of Elsie, who tugs him away by his collar.
“He’ll meet us up at Dawn’s Craig,” says Blake.
My gaze snaps to Callum. “The ceremony isn’t taking place at Lowfell?”
“No,” says Callum. “We’ll hike up a nearby mountain so we’re closer to
Ghealach.”
A small thrill ignites beneath my skin. I’ve felt claustrophobic since we got here, and I long to explore more of the Northlands. I still ask the question. “Is it safe to leave?” Callum doesn’t seem to trust the alpha who will be arriving tonight.
Callum squeezes my hand, as if sensing my worry. “Bloodshed is forbidden during the night of Oidhche Fhada. It’s wolf law. Unbreakable. You’re safe, Princess.” He brings his mouth to my ear. “Plus, you smell like me, remember?”
Blake pushes off from the wall. “Time to go.” He throws his arm up in the air to gesture to the other Wolves as he walks toward the tunnel that leads to the grounds.
More chatter fills the air as we follow him through the courtyard and outside of the castle walls. Wild grass tickles my hands, and mud squelches beneath my boots as the group of us cross the unspoiled land toward the nearby mountains. Only the soft glow of the half-moon lights our way.
I can’t help but smile as we all make our way to Dawn’s Craig to perform the Oidhche Fhada ritual.
Chapter Eight
I
‘m unused to hiking, particularly at night.
My thigh muscles ache, and I stumble on jagged protruding rocks. I’m quickly breathless. Despite the chill in the air, sweat beads my skin. I lag at the tail of the group while Callum, just ahead of me, jokes around with Ryan and Becky. With his muscles and wolf strength, I’m sure it doesn’t occur to him that the climb may be a struggle for a human princess who spent most of her time sitting indoors sewing, or preening, or playing the piano.
Despite my discomfort, a smile plays on my lips. The air is so fresh I can taste it. The scents of rain-drenched grass, muddy earth, and the occasional whiff of animal feces travel in the wind. Childlike excitement bubbles in my chest when I spot a sheep grazing on the mountainside.