Filed to story: My Kidnapper Is the Wolf King
When I’m settled, the alpha’s gaze darts around the shadowy group of eight and his brow creases.
“Where’s Ryan?”
I scan the shadowy male faces and see the boy with the dislocated arm isn’t here.
“The wee lad?” A burly man with red hair and a thick beard shakes his head. “Not seen him.”
“Fuck’s sake!” the alpha curses.
For the first time tonight, he looks worried. He darts a look over his shoulder at the Western Gate, then up at me. He flexes his fingers by his sides.
“Fuck,”
he mutters.
A moment later, the boy half runs, half stumbles through the gate and some of the tension in the alpha’s expression softens.
Ryan’s coppery hair is plastered to his forehead and he’s clasping the hand of a brunette girl around his age. She’s wearing the uniform of the kitchen maids, and has an angry scar across her cheek.
My eyes narrow in distaste at the brand on her neck-one of Sebastian’s ways of identifying the Wolves he has working for him in the castle.
“Ah, seeing to matters of the heart, I see,” says the red-haired guy.
“Or cock,” says another, with an arched eyebrow.
A few of the men chuckle.
“Shut up, dickhead,” snarls Ryan, glaring up at him. It does not escape my notice that he is no longer wearing the sling. Wolves really do heal quickly, then.
“Oi!” says the alpha, slapping the back of his head. “Get on your horse, and stop pissing about.” His tone is stern, but there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes.
In a swift movement, he mounts the horse behind me. The heat of his body seeps through the thick furs I am wearing and makes my skin hum. He reaches for the reins, caging me within his arms.
“Ready, Princess?” His voice is a rough breath on my cheek, and I shiver.
The bare branches of the trees ahead reach for one another over the overgrown road like forlorn lovers. To my right, the mountains are jagged and wild and alive
–
so unlike the flat terrain of the south that submits to the feet that tread upon it.
The alpha asked me what I wanted and I couldn’t answer.
Now, a word beats fast with my pulse.
Freedom.
I want to be free from my fate.
If I do this-if I can gather intelligence that will help my father win his war-I may be able to free myself from Sebastian.
“Yes,” I say, and some of the tension loosens in my chest.
“Let’s go,” says the alpha.
The thunder of hooves competes with my heartbeat as we ride into the forest.
The man with the red hair appears beside us. His eyes glint with amusement, even in the darkness, as he raises an eyebrow at the alpha.
“Don’t mean to overstep,” he says. “But who’s the lass?”
Chapter Six
“T
hat’s none of your concern,” says the alpha over the sound of hooves.
He’s leaning into me as we put space between us and the castle, and I feel his hard body against my back. Trees loom up on either side of us.
“It will be our concern if the bastards come after us,” says the red-haired man. “I happen to like my balls attached to my body.”
“I don’t know why,” replies the alpha. “You hardly ever use them.”
The musky smell of horse floods my nose, mixing with the scent of damp earth. I cling on to a ridge at the front of the saddle, knuckles wet and white, my thighs gripping the beast for dear life as it jolts forward. The spindly winter-worn branches overhead provide little shelter from the wind and the rain, yet I’m not cold.
I do not know whether it is the body behind me that keeps me warm, emanating heat even though he is only wearing a sodden shirt. Or the fur he wrapped around me. Or perhaps it’s the speed of my heartbeat, pumping blood laced with adrenaline through my veins.
Whatever it is, I think it is also keeping the fear I should be feeling at bay, too. Because I’m being kidnapped by the enemy, and I don’t even care. In fact, with each tree we put between us and the castle, another knot in my chest seems to untangle. There will be time for fear and panic, I’m sure. Now I feel as if I’m flying through the darkness.
I’m a prisoner. But I’m free. And I wonder how both of these things can be true at the same time, yet know they are.
The red-haired man glances at me again. “She’s a beauty, for sure. That doesn’t mean you can just swipe the lass. What’s the king going to say?”
“What makes you think I didn’t take her on the king’s orders?” says the alpha, and I stiffen. “Not your king,” he adds in a whisper against my cheek.
I frown, confused. There is only one king-unless you count the false king my brother is fighting a war against over on the continent. And surely the Wolves are too unruly, too disorganized, to be fighting for him.
“Because I happen to know what the king ordered us to take from the castle. And I know it wasn’t a bonnie lass in her nightgown.” He meets my eyes. “Who are you? And don’t let this big oaf frighten you.”
“I’m not afraid,” I say.
My voice is quiet. It is drowned by the hooves pounding the forest floor, and the wind rustling the branches, but the wolf’s eyes latch onto mine curiously.
It must be true what they say about Wolves having hearing stronger than the gods intended.
I shiver.
“She’s none of your concern.” The alpha’s tone is firm.
“She’s the princess, Fergus,” Magnus drawls behind us.
A smile spreads on Fergus’s face, too big to be genuine. “Tell me he’s joking. Tell me you didn’t kidnap the daughter of the king. Because I know-I
know-
you’re not that much of a hot-headed fool.”
The alpha shrugs behind me. His body feels relaxed-despite the jolting of the horse and his hard muscles.
“For the love of the Goddess!” roars Fergus. “Put her down!”
“It’s a bit late for that,” says the alpha.
“They’ll have our hides for this,” says Fergus.
“They’ll have your hides if they catch you anyway,” I mutter under my breath.