Filed to story: My Kidnapper Is the Wolf King
He grabs my calf, his fingers curling around the muscle. My skirt has ridden up, and the heat of his hand sears my bare skin. He stiffens slightly. My breath hitches.
“You treacherous serpent!” I pull away, and he releases me.
He grins-one of his stupid real grins-and stands straighter. The bookshelf creaks as he leans against it. “Interesting theory. Although the Heart of the Moon has been lost for centuries.”
“I have a theory about that, too, actually.” I bring my legs back up onto the window seat.
“Ah, so that’s why you’re reading about the Snowlands. You’ve been speaking to Lochlan. About your mother’s journey from the Snowlands, and the moonflower at Glas-Cladach, I presume?”
My head snaps toward him. “How did you know about that?”
His brow creases as his amusement pulses through me. “I was the one who told the Wolves to look for the Heart of the Moon in the Borderlands, remember?”
“You knew Sebastian had been there.”
“Of course I did, little rabbit. I have eyes everywhere.”
I pick my book up. “Fine. You’re so clever. Why don’t you go and bother someone else?”
“I’d rather bother you.”
I nod at the dark grey clouds that roll over the mountains outside the window-dulling the orange and the greens in the wild landscape. “Shouldn’t you start poisoning yourself in preparation for the storm? Like you did last time.”
He sighs. “Perhaps. I think I’ve finally got the ratio right for a sleeping tonic that works on Wolves.”
“Good for you. I hope you don’t accidentally slip and give yourself too much wolfsbane.”
A soft chuckle escapes his lips. “You’d better hope that’s true. If I die, you die too, little rabbit.” He pushes off from the shelf and strolls to the doorway. “If the tonic fails, perhaps I’ll distract myself by discovering what the alpha’s secret might be.” He raises the book Elsie gave me, which I didn’t realize he’d picked back up. His eyes glint. “If the other book you were reading is anything to go by, I’m guessing it has something to do with his abnormally large cock.”
A soft growl scrapes, unprovoked, against my throat. “Oh, go away!”
He laughs softly to himself as he heads down the spiral staircase, and I’m finally left in peace.
***
By nightfall, Callum has still not returned.
The shadows in the library are long and ominous and thunder rumbles through the castle. It’s like a bad omen of things to come. Worry tightens my chest. I need to know that Callum is alright. I feel helpless, because there’s nothing I can do.
I’m not usually afraid of the dark, but I shiver when I put my books away, grab my candle, and hurry down the stairs. The torches in the corridors burn low as I make my way back to our chambers. I want to be in bed, safe, under the covers.
I quicken my step. I hum the tune my mother used to sing to me as a child. One of the vials of wolfsbane I took from the infirmary is in the pocket of my dress, and I let its weight comfort me.
I sigh when I reach the corridor leading to our bedchambers.
There’s a footstep behind me, and thunder echoes through the castle. I spin around. Ian, the blond wolf from Lochlan’s clan, stands in front of me. I gasp and reach for the wolfsbane. He slams me into the wall. There’s a sickening crack when my head hits the stone, and Ian’s freckles blur while the corridor swims around me.
With all my strength, I knee him in the crotch. He doubles over and I scramble away. “Blake!”
He hooks an arm around my waist and throws me back. I land on the ground, the wind knocked out of me. I try to get up, but he lands on top of me and straddles my chest. Two more men appear from the shadows, and look down at me with merciless eyes.
“James was right,” says Ian. “You’re the enemy, not him.”
“You’re a fool,” I gasp. “This won’t work out the way you expect. Callum and Blake will kill-“
He pulls a cloth from his pocket and clamps it over my face. The acrid scent of chemicals floods my nostrils. I writhe beneath Ian, but I can’t free myself. Panic crashes through me.
Ian grins. “It’s time to meet the king.”
His face fades, and darkness pulls me under.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The darkness is suffocating. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust. I’m in a long corridor, lined with cells. My heart jolts when I see the symbol etched into one of the cell doors. It’s Night’s mark. I’m in his prison.
A figure walks away from me. His breeches and shirt are stained grey by the darkness. His footsteps are hurried, and I wonder if this is his dream or mine. Is he as disturbed to be here as I am?
I can’t quite remember what happened before I came here, but it feels urgent I reach him.
“Blake?” I whisper. Something hisses from beyond the door of the cell behind me, and my heart jolts. I hurry away from it. “Blake!”
He doesn’t turn. I don’t think he can hear me. I run after him. Even though my footsteps punctuate the darkness, he doesn’t acknowledge me. I feel his warmth. I note the bunched-up muscles of his back. I reach for him.
“Blake! I need your help!”
The ground dissolves before I can touch him.
I fall through endless darkness.
I’m in the Church of Light and Sun, only the wilderness has taken it. Moss coats the stone altar, thick like green velvet. Vines burst through the ground and curl around my ankles. They snap from the walls and twist around my wrists to hold my arms outstretched.
But I didn’t sin.
A version of my voice whispers through the foliage that lines the domed roof.
All women sin, child.
The shadows respond and they sound like the High Priest.
Your mother was a sinner. And you are a sinner too. Do you want the Sun Goddess to be angered?
Vines crack down on my back and jerk me forward. Hot tears swell in my eyes. I don’t want to plead. I don’t want to beg. I try to remind myself that this is a dream, but my back is being torn open and blood pools on the floor tiles. A copper scent hangs in the air.
I’m screaming when a figure emerges from the crypt. His footsteps echo as he walks toward me.
His eyes glow, feral and amber.
“Fight,”
he says.
***
I breathe in sharply. I’m sprawled across the floor and my head is thumping. The air tastes like stagnant water, and my dress is damp. There’s a barred wall in front of me. I’ve been here before.
I scramble to my knees. A cot is pushed against one wall, and there’s a bucket in the corner. Shackles hang from the ceiling on rusty chains, and fear prickles down my spine. This is the cell in the manor house, a stopping point that Blake brought me to before I was given back to Sebastian. Blake taunted me here, then tried to get me to marry James.
It’s close to the Borderlands. James must have organized a trade with Alexander, and he could be on his way now.
I shiver. I slide my hand into my pocket and grasp the small vial of wolfsbane. It’s not much-James’s army could be waiting for me outside these dungeons-but I can’t go back to the south. I can’t be the property of another Borderlands lord-especially not Alexander. I think he’ll use me so my father will pardon him. I’m sure he’ll hurt me, too. The ghost of his shouts in the throne room after I told my father he was planning to commit treason haunt the cell.
My head fuzzy, I start to form a plan.
I pray to any goddess that will listen for the strength to survive.
I pray that Callum is okay, and Blake knows I’m gone.