Filed to story: My Kidnapper Is the Wolf King
My heartbeat thunders in my ears. “Tell me.”
He twists his hands together. His lips part. “You’ll have to figure it out for yourself, little rabbit. It looks like our time together is coming to an end.”
I turn, just as the door opens. Lochlan enters the room, flanked by four of his men. A half-laugh escapes Blake’s lips as he stands. “Really, Lochlan? You?”
“It’s nothing personal, Blake.” His kohl-lined eyes glint with violence, and belie his statement. I think he’s worried about what Blake might do to Kai. “I have orders from the king. You are sentenced to imprisonment for plotting against the throne. Are you going to come peacefully?”
A dimple punctures Blake’s cheek as he edges back a step. “I know Callum has told you I’m not to be harmed.”
“He thought you might say that,” says Lochlan. “He wants you to know that you’ve shown your hand. You’ve lost. We can hurt you, if we wish.”
Blake laughs. It’s a cold, contrived sound that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. A couple of the men share a look. He shrugs. “Very well. Let me grab my shirt.”
Lochlan inclines his head. Blake grabs his shirt from the armchair and slips it on. I step away from him, and my back hits the wall by the fireplace. I tense as I wait for him to grab a sword and start fighting, or grab me to use me as leverage to get out of the situation. He fastens his buttons, then slips on his boots.
Lochlan gestures at him, and two of the men grab Blake’s arms and pull them roughly behind his back. They slip shackles around his wrists, and the click resounds around his chambers. He doesn’t resist.
They walk him toward the door, and he stops in front of Lochlan. “Will you give Callum a message from me?” Lochlan nods, and Blake’s lips curve into a wicked smile. “He has not seen my hand yet. He doesn’t even know what game we’re playing. Come visit me when you’ve figured it out, little rabbit. I’ll wait for you.”
He’s hauled out of the room.
Lochlan inclines his head. “Good evening, Princess.”
He follows his men, and Blake, into the corridor.
I’m left dumbfounded, staring at the door.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Everything is still. Quiet.
It’s the moment after a storm, when the world has been overturned, yet everything is expected to go back to normal.
I stand by the fireplace in Blake’s chambers. If it weren’t for the crumpled bedsheets, the few bits of mud on the floorboards that were stomped in by Lochlan’s men, and the racing of my heart, I could be fooled that nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.
Callum finally made his move against Blake. He decided to lock him up-even though he knows our lives are linked. He didn’t consider it an option before. We discussed it once, back at Lowfell, and decided Blake would starve himself, or hurt himself, to get to me.
Blake didn’t even resist.
Callum is out of his depth. Blake is up to something.
Anam-Cridech.
The word for the bond echoes in my mind.
I was so close to getting an answer, and yet a part of me is relieved that Blake was taken before he could reveal it. His words have taken root within me and I fear them.
A part of you knows. A part of you has always known. Just like, deep down, Callum knows. Just like I have always known.
I walk toward his desk and slide open the second drawer.
The Alpha’s Fate is tucked in the corner, nestled among the maps. I pick it up. Elsie gave me two of these books. She said they were enlightening. Blake took both of them off me. I thought nothing of it at the time, and yet. . .
A floorboard creaks behind me.
I shove the small flimsy tome into my pocket and turn. Callum stands in the doorway.
His eyes move from Blake’s crumpled bedsheets to the spot where Blake was standing a moment ago. His nostrils flare and my pulse kicks up.
Does he think that something inappropriate happened between us?
Did something inappropriate happen between us? I had been so caught up in getting the parchment, I had acted on instinct. I had not thought too hard about where I was, or who I was provoking. I bit him. My cheeks heat, and something cold moves beneath my skin.
It’s certainly not proper for a lady to be in another man’s bed, but I was angry. I was fighting him. I was trying to get answers for Callum, as well as myself. Still, shame spreads through me.
I get the sense that he’s battling with his wolf. He breathes deeply, and his fists are clenched. His expression could be carved from stone, and I know he only pulls his emotions back when he feels threatened.
“Callum.” I step toward him.
He staggers back as though I pushed him. Panic flickers across his face. He turns on his heel and walks out of Blake’s bedchambers.
“Callum.” I hurry after him.
He doesn’t slow down, so I can’t fall into step beside him.
“Callum!”
He halts outside the door of his bedchambers, clenches the top of the doorframe, and leans forward. His broad shoulders practically burst the seams of his shirt. He presses his forehead against the door. “His scent is all over you.”
“It’s not what you think.”
He releases a bitter laugh, devoid of his usual warmth. “He touched you.”
“I was trying to get answers-“
He spins around, and the wolf is in his eyes. “Were you in his bed?”
“Yes, but it’s not-“
He makes a low sound, shuts his eyes, and bites down on his knuckles. A dribble of blood runs down his fist and drips onto the flagstones. It doesn’t seem to offer him any relief, because his breathing is unsteady.
“Callum, please calm down.” I reach for his wrist so I can stop him from hurting himself.
He lurches away from me and his back hits the wall. He drops his fist to his side, and blood drips onto the flagstones. When he opens his eyes, I almost stagger back with the force of his gaze.
“Don’t,”
he snarls.
“I’m sorry. I just-“
“Do you want him?”
“No!”
“I’m a wolf, Princess!” He slams a hand on his chest and I flinch. He blinks back the watery film over his eyes, and shakes his head. “I saw you dance with him, you know? At the feast at Lowfell.”
The memory of Blake twirling me around the dancefloor flashes through my mind. I shake my head. He cannot be serious. “I didn’t conceal that from you. I was trying to get information from him.” I hate the plea, the whine, the desperation in my voice.
A muscle feathers in Callum’s jaw. “Is that what you were doing when you wound up in his bed?”
“Yes.”
He makes another low sound. My breathing is ragged. I’ve swallowed a storm, and it’s taking all my strength to keep it contained.
“If you calm yourself, I shall explain what happened. Let us go inside and talk about it like rational human beings.”