Filed to story: My Kidnapper Is the Wolf King
I take a couple of deep breaths, and taste woodsmoke on the night air. I straighten and smooth down my dress, before tucking a couple of errant strands of hair behind my ears. I need to get control over myself. It’s been so long since I’ve let myself feel anything, I fear I’m letting my emotions get the better of me.
It could be the wolf that stirs inside me that makes me feels territorial about Callum. It could be the princess who has never courted anyone-never even had a proper friend-who is scared of losing the one person who has cared for her since she was a child.
Callum has never given me a reason to doubt him. I head inside so I can talk to him. The door on the opposite side of the entrance hall opens at the same time. Ian strolls through. His blond hair is messy, and his eyes a little bloodshot. There’s a red wine stain on his yellow kilt.
He smiles when he sees me. “Good evening, Princess.”
My body tenses as he approaches. I’m not sure if it’s his forced smile that puts me on guard, or the scent of alcohol that radiates from him.
Perhaps it’s because James told him that Alexander wanted me in exchange for his brother.
I subtly reach for the wolfsbane between my breasts. “Good evening.”
He steps in front of me and I curl my fingers around the glass vial.
“Is everything okay, Ian?” Callum emerges from the corridor behind him.
Ian tenses, then smiles. Callum is a head taller than him, and must be twice his width. He folds his arms, emphasizing his biceps.
Ian swallows. “I just wanted to let the princess know we’re lucky to have her here.”
“We are.” Callum doesn’t smile. He looks the younger male up and down, and Ian averts his gaze. “Go on. Back to the feast.”
Ian dips his head. Callum doesn’t stand aside, so the smaller male has to squeeze past him before he disappears from view.
I let loose a breath. Callum turns his attention to me.
Even with the threat to me gone, he seems tense. His jaw is a strong line, and his expression is stony. My pulse slowed at his arrival, but it starts to speed up again. He seems like he’s annoyed with me.
“Is something wrong?” I ask.
“Let’s go somewhere private.”
I fall into step beside him. He threads his fingers with mine, and leads me past the festivities in the Great Hall, and up one of the stairwells.
“I’ll have a word with Lochlan about Ian,” he says. “I don’t like how he was looking at you.”
He opens the door to our room, and we step inside. The fire burns low in the hearth, casting a soft glow onto the leather armchairs and the four-poster bed.
I walk past him, and sit on one of the armchairs-the one facing away from the window, so I don’t have to look at the half-moon that shines over the loch. Callum shuts the door, then lingers by the foot of the bed. There’s something. . . off about him.
“What did Claire have to say?” I ask.
“There have been some unexplained deaths in a few of the villages in her territory, and people were seen entering an old chapel dedicated to the God of Night not too far from Highfell. She thinks Night’s Acolytes are rising once more. They’ve been talking about someone called the Night Prince. We have enough to be worrying about with Lochlan and James right now.”
“Is there something else? Something wrong?”
He chews his cheek as he leans against one of the bedposts. “You tell me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I. . .” He drags his hands over his face. “I don’t know. Probably nothing.”
The room is silent but for the odd crackle coming from the fire, and the faint sound of bagpipes coming from the Great Hall. “Do you think I’m a damsel, Callum?”
His brow furrows. “What?”
“A damsel in distress. A weak female who needs saving.”
He folds his arms. “Because I’m going to have a word with Lochlan about a male from his clan who was up to no good?”
“No.” I know I sound petulant, but. . . “Do you think I’m your equal?”
He frowns. “Aye? Why?”
“You said once that you wanted to be with a female who was equal to you.”
“I do.” He cocks his head to one side. “I am.”
“Yet you feel the need to protect me all the time.”
“You’re very small.” When I don’t return his smile, he exhales. “You told me you did not want me to suppress myself, my wolf instincts, around you. I’m an alpha, and you are my lass, and aye, I want to protect you. What’s wrong with that?”
“I could help Lochlan with Alexander, you know?”
“I won’t risk you.”
I turn toward the flickering flames in the fireplace. “Claire’s an alpha. If you were together, you wouldn’t have to protect her, would you?” I instantly regret saying it. I sound weak. Foolish.
Silence stretches between us, and I long for him to fill it. I need him to say something. Anything. There’s the thud and creak of footsteps across the floorboards. Callum crouches in front of the chair and nudges my knees apart to accommodate him. I’m not sure what I expect when I turn back to him. Annoyance, perhaps, or even confusion. It’s not the wide grin that is spread across his face. I hate that it makes the corners of my lips twitch.
“What are you smiling about?” I say.
“So that’s what this is all about.”
“What?”
He slides his hands up my legs, pushing up my skirt, and nips my inner thigh with his teeth. “Fuck, I like that you’re jealous.”
My breathing hitches. “I’m not jealous.”
He kisses my leg, and his stubble scrapes against the sensitive skin. “Oh, I think that you are.” His hands move up and down my calves, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “Perhaps I’m not the only territorial wolf around here.”
“You asked her to marry you.”
He looks up at me. “It wasn’t like that.”
I take his face in my hands to stop him from distracting me. “What was it like?”
“I was eighteen. My mother had just gone missing. My father was grieving. My brother was distant and distracted. I was far from my home.” He shakes his head. “I was looking for purpose, I suppose. Claire and James seemed unhappy with the match, and I offered to take James’s place. I wanted to prove myself to my father, to my people. It wasn’t romantic.”
“Claire seemed to think you did it to save her from an unhappy fate.”
“I suppose that played into my decision, aye. Does that make me a monster?”
“No.” I huff. “It makes you a good man, a good wolf. Someone who would rescue any woman in distress, no matter who they were. Just like you rescued me.”
He frowns. “You did not wish for me to rescue you?”
“Of course. I’m happy you brought me here.”
“Ah, so you don’t have an issue with me protecting you,” he says. “You don’t like the thought of me protecting others? That’s what makes you jealous?”
“No. It’s not that, either.”
I sigh. He doesn’t get it. How can he? Callum is like a mountain-solid and strong.