Filed to story: My Kidnapper Is the Wolf King
They both get up and saunter over, and my pulse begins to race. I can smell the alcohol on the air and see the intent in their eyes-even in the near darkness.
Ryan jumps to his feet. “Magnus-“
“Sit down, lad,” says the ratlike one with a grin, brushing him aside. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“Hello, sweetheart,” says Magnus as he prowls forward. “It’s cold out here. Perhaps you can keep us warm.”
My insides twist. “You’re disgusting,” I say, pushing my back closer to the tree, grasping along the ground for something, anything, I can use as a weapon.
“Now, now, that’s not very nice,” slurs Magnus. “We’re only being friendly. I can think of much better uses for that pretty little mouth than insulting us.”
My fingers close around a rock as he gets closer. My pulse is racing as I stumble to my feet.
“Leave her alone,” says Ryan.
The rat pushes him back.
There’s a crunch as the alpha steps on a twig beside me, and his warmth wraps around me.
“If you’re cold, Magnus, there’s some whisky in my pack that’ll warm you up,” says the alpha. “I suggest you go and drink it before you and I have a problem.”
His tone is easy, but the sleeves of his shirt strain against the muscles in his arms and his jaw is a hard line.
A hush falls over the camp. The air is tense as if the rest of the Wolves sense that blood might soon be spilt.
But then Magnus cracks a grin. “Hear that, lads? More drink for everyone!” He slaps the alpha’s arm before sauntering off to collect his prize.
The alpha watches him go before sitting down by the tree. When my breathing has steadied, I sit down beside him, my fingers still curled around the rock.
His profile is stern as he watches the others. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t reassure me. I suppose there is no point. He has probably realized the same thing I have.
I am in danger here.
I have made a terrible mistake.
Dread curls in the pit of my stomach as I stare at the group of Wolves. The night becomes darker, and the conversation becomes quieter. Gradually, snores add to the crackle of the fire and the lull of the wind.
Though my eyelids are heavy, and though the alpha sits beside me, I do not dare close them-not even for a moment.
When the last of the Wolves has fallen asleep, the alpha stands.
Up, he mouths, gesturing with his head.
He holds out his hand. I frown, but cautiously, I take it. I wince when the sharp stones dig into my already sore feet. The alpha’s eyebrows dip. He puts a finger over his full lips, then scoops me up again.
This time, I do not protest for fear of waking the others.
He takes me to his horse, tied to a tree a short way from the sleeping pack, and puts me in the saddle before mounting behind me. Before I can ask him what’s going on, we’re riding away from the others.
I look over my shoulder. Only Ryan stirs, but when the alpha pushes his finger to his lips, he nods and settles back down beside Becky.
“Where are we going?” I ask when the camp is a small dot on the other side of the loch.
“We’ll be making the rest of the journey back alone,” he whispers roughly against my cheek. “I won’t have them threatening you.”
“You can’t just tell them to leave me alone?” I say. “I thought you were supposed to be the big bad alpha.”
He lets loose a quiet laugh. “Aye. I suppose I am. But what did you notice about their kilts?”
I think of the different patterns the eight men were wearing-some blue, some green, and only Ryan’s red like the alpha’s. “You’re from different clans,” I say. “You’re not their alpha.”
“No, I’m not. And while some respect my status, others. . . less so.”
“Like Magnus,” I say bitterly.
“Aye,” he agrees darkly. “And if he were to directly challenge me, I couldn’t let it stand. But when I’d killed that despicable prick, it would really damage what we’re trying to do here in bringing the clans together. It’s for the best that we make our own way.” He pauses. “Because I really want to kill that despicable prick.”
Something warms in me at that-though I realize it’s not very ladylike to revel in the idea of someone being killed.
“Where are we going?” I ask, my chest feeling a little looser.
His arm tightens around my waist. “I’m taking you to the Wolf King.”
A spark of panic ignites inside me. Curiosity pulses through me, too. “Who is the Wolf King?”
“You’ll see.”
“And what? You’re just going to hold me for ransom for something you think Sebastian has stolen from you?”
“Aye.”
“What do you think he has?” I sigh, and my breath mists in the darkness before me. “What exactly is going on?”
Chapter Eight
“D
o you know the story of the Elderwolf?” the alpha asks.
Away from the camp, the night is black as pitch. I can barely see, but I can hear the wind stirring the water of the loch we ride beside, and smell the rain-drenched evergreen trees and the masculine scent of the man behind me.
“The first wolf?” I say. “Yes. Everyone knows about that.”
He lets the silence extend, waiting for me to fill it.
“He conspired with the Moon and betrayed the Sun and the first men,” I say. “He was cursed to roam the earth on four legs, and live in a manner as beastly as his actions were.”
The word “beastly” slips out. It is the word the High Priest always uses when he tells this story. With the alpha as my only audience, alone together in an unfamiliar kingdom, I wonder if I should have been more careful with my word choice.
“Aye. I suppose you would tell it that way in the Southlands.” He merely sounds pensive. “It’s true, we were cursed. But that’s not quite the way the story goes.”
He shifts behind me on the horse, and his thigh brushes against mine. I sit straighter.
Even if I bring valuable information to my father when I am free, he will disown me if he ever finds out I’m sitting with a wolf’s arm resting on my lap.
The alpha gently nudges me back again.
“The Elderwolf lived here long before the first men arrived,” he says, “when all kinds of ancient dangerous creatures roamed the earth. The Moon-or
Ghealach as we call her-would watch him as he endured. Impressed by his strength and his will to survive, she fell in love with him. Now, some say the Moon herself was a wolf, while others say the Wolves were merely her favored ones, but whichever is true, she would send her creatures to protect him.”
The alpha’s voice is low and soothing, and I find some of the stiffness in my limbs softening as the darkness wraps around us.
“He began to leave her gifts and offerings, to thank her. And so began a secret courtship that lasted many years. They fell deeply, and irrevocably, in love.”
No one has told me a story since my mother passed, and I relax against his chest.