Filed to story: My Kidnapper Is the Wolf King
“They rode away after Alexander left.”
Blake uncurls his fingers from his weapon. “We’ll meet you outside.”
Duncan nods, then heads out of the chapel. The door swings shut behind him. When I take a deep breath, the scent of blood fills my lungs and reminds me that Blake’s not yet at full health.
“He might be lying,” I say.
“He’s not,” says Blake. “Or at least, I don’t think he is.”
“Why didn’t Callum come after me himself?”
He sighs heavily. “Because you’re with me.” My eyebrows knit together, because this seems to exasperate him. He runs his good hand over the back of his neck “Or perhaps this is a trap, little rabbit. Shall we find out?”
Blake grabs his bloody shirt. He struggles to slip it on, and I help him fasten up the buttons. We walk down the aisle, and head outside.
Duncan is already on his horse by the chapel gates. The mountains loom behind him. Blake walks to the horse we rode here on, and pats her on the side. I halt and stiffen. We’d rode here in such a panic, it hadn’t really occurred to me that our bodies were pressed together for the journey.
Blake looks over his shoulder and pulls a face. “Unless you’d prefer to ride with Duncan?”
Duncan straightens in his saddle, and I catch a hint of panic in his eyes before he resolutely looks away. I wonder if he worries what Callum would think.
I huff as I join Blake by the horse. “I’m holding the reins.”
His left arm hangs limp at his side, and he rolls his eyes. “Obviously.”
When I’m seated in the saddle, Blake hauls himself up behind me. His chest presses against my back, and every muscle in my body tightens. He grabs the saddle, rather than curling his arms around my waist. It satisfies me that, no longer on the brink of death, he’s uncomfortable with this, too.
Duncan rides through the gates. Still marginally concerned about where he might be leading us, I grip the reins and follow him.
The trees rustle around us as we trot down a dark mountain pass. The peaks are hidden by darkness. Blake’s legs rub against mine as the terrain becomes more uneven, and he keeps shifting to try and put distance between us.
He kissed me, earlier.
The weight of his kiss is heavy on my lips. I’m sure it’ll get heavier when we get back to the castle. I’m sure there’ll be consequences for both of us. All the alphas saw it. Callum saw it.
Do as he says.
“You know Alexander,” I say, quietly, after a while.
“Yes.” Blake’s breath tickles my ear.
“You failed to mention that.”
“I didn’t realize I had to inform you of all my acquaintances.” The horse stumbles on a rock, and his chest bumps into my back. “I can provide you with a list, if you wish.”
“Don’t be obtuse. You knew Alexander was coming after me, and you knew our history. It was pertinent information you should have shared.”
“Why? You seem to think we are enemies.”
“And you told me we were friends. How do you know him?”
Blake’s sigh is warm against my cheek. “I was imprisoned a while back. I met him during my time of captivity.”
“Why were you imprisoned?”
“For being a wolf.”
My retort for how it was good he got some form of comeuppance for his behavior dies in my throat. “Oh. Sorry.” There’s running water by our side, though it’s too dark to determine if it’s a brook or a river. The sound is peaceful. “How did you know Alexander wouldn’t follow us into the chapel?”
“Did you see the mark on his wrist?”
I glimpsed a tattoo in the same spot as Elsie’s, and I guessed at the symbol that might be inked there. “He worships Night, doesn’t he? We were in one of Night’s chapels. Why would he fear it?”
“It’s said that places of worship bring us closer to the gods and goddesses. Alexander isn’t a true supporter. He tried to trick the God of Night into giving him power, or so I heard. Now, he fears retribution. He wouldn’t dare set foot in a place like that.”
“What do you think he wants with me?”
He shakes his head. “Let us hope we don’t find out.”
Dawn approaches when we reach the hill overlooking Madadh-allaidh. Birdsong fills the sky as it lightens over the castle-an angular building made of dark stone. An army of about three hundred surrounds the outer walls, and their kilts and sashes add a burst of yellow to the shadow-painted landscape. Morning mist coats the loch behind them.
Lochlan’s army.
I can’t determine where the alpha is himself, but I’m surprised-and delighted-to see that there are women warriors on horseback among the men.
“Did Callum and Lochlan free Alexander’s prisoner?” I ask.
“Yes,” says Blake. “Although, based on what Alexander said to us, I’m starting to wonder if it’s a trap. It seemed a little too easy.”
“He said he was sending someone to us.”
“Exactly.”
He shifts back on the saddle. “They’re not going to bite, Duncan. Let’s go.” Duncan throws Blake an unpleasant look, then digs his heels into the horse. “We should go too, little rabbit. I’m sure Callum is overreacting because you’re not there yet.”
Do as he says.
I push Callum’s voice out of my mind.
I lead the horse down the grassy hill.
We make our way back to Castle Madadh-allaidh.
***
The castle courtyard is full of noise when we ride through the gates.
Morning mist coats the cobblestones. There must be thirty or so Wolves congregated in small groups, and the conversation is agitated. Some carry dead game, or buckets filled with chicken feed. Others have halted with bundles of hay in their arms. I catch Mrs. McDonald, the formidable cook, gossiping with Kayleigh, the kitchen maid, by the water pump-both rosy-cheeked and wide-eyed. People look out of the narrow windows looking onto the yard. Three women wearing blue tartan dresses swarm Duncan’s horse to ask him for news. Isla, the woman from Highfell who was hostile to me, and clearly had feelings for Callum, flicks her mousy brown hair over her shoulder. She whispers something behind her hand to her friend.
I catch snippets of their conversations. Among the chatter, a phrase is repeated.
Callum is king.
Some Wolves sound curious. Others hostile. Yet relief floods me that this is not a trap. Callum is here, and he won.
As we head further into the courtyard, the Wolves around us quieten. I’m reminded of the morning I first arrived here in the Northlands with Callum. People had been wary of the human woman with wild red hair, dressed in nothing but a nightgown, who rode on a horse with the alpha of Highfell.
I was frightened then. I’m not now, even if it’s even tenser. People stop what they’re doing and straighten. A woman pulls a freckled boy behind her. A couple of the men put their hands on their swords. Wolves have always feared Blake, but their fear seems to extend to me, too.
I’m not sure what they’re most wary about. My wild appearance, having been held prisoner by James, Blake’s equal dishevelment and his bloodstained clothing, or our affiliation with their new king.
Perhaps it’s because we’re both southerners. Or perhaps they heard what happened at the manor house. James forced Blake to kiss me.
Do as he says.
Blake pays the onlookers no heed. When I bring the horse to a halt, he presses against me as he slides his leg over the horse, then dismounts.