Filed to story: My Kidnapper Is the Wolf King
He roars-loud and wild-a war cry that ricochets off the stone walls of the hall.
The fight is over in minutes. It is bloody, and violent, and I hear the crack of bone at some point, along with howls of pain from the younger man. The alpha holds him down on the ground, a hand curled around his neck.
He raises a fist to deal the death blow-pausing with it in mid-air as if savoring the kill.
The young one looks into my eyes rather than at the monster on top of him.
And I cannot bear it.
This is not right.
“Stop!” I jump to my feet.
The alpha stills. The crowd quiets. Sebastian looks at me, eyes narrowed, while a muscle tightens in my father’s jaw.
My heart is pounding in my chest.
Yet I do not sit back down.
“This is not sport.” I force my voice to sound steady, even though my knees are shaking. “This is murder.”
The air in the hall thickens. The crowd turn their anger, their bloodlust, from the Wolves to me. The alpha’s shoulders rise and fall, hard.
My breathing quickens. I shouldn’t have said anything. I am a woman. A statue. It is not my place.
Yet I do not sit down.
“Putting down an animal is hardly murder,” says Sebastian, a bite to his tone. “Or does my betrothed have a thing for beasts? Do you know that they take their women like dogs? I have heard that some women-“
“That’s enough.” My father’s command rumbles across the hall.
Sebastian dips his head to the king. “I did not mean to offend, Your Highness.”
“Aurora is tired. She will excuse herself and go to bed,” says my father.
I have disappointed him, and shame heats my cheeks.
But I don’t move.
Neither does the alpha. His arm is still raised, his gaze trained on his victim as he awaits the conclusion of our conversation. The boy’s wide eyes hold mine. Tears and blood stain his cheeks.
“Let him live.” My mouth is as dry as bone.
Sebastian is barely containing his rage. He clearly does not like to be challenged in front of his people. “What use is he to me alive, my love?”
“He is young. Fit. Put him to work in the stables.” I want to disappear, but I force myself to look at him, to smile. “A wedding gift to me, my lord.”
Sebastian appears to consider. He stands and takes my hands; his fingers are cold and curl around mine like a vice. I push down the disgust that is rising inside me at his touch. He smiles back.
“Very well, my love. A wedding gift.” He leans close, bringing his lips to my ear. “You know, if you have a fondness for these creatures, and wish to be taken like a common mutt, that can be arranged tomorrow night after the ceremony. Who knows, perhaps I will throw you into the kennels afterward. Perhaps I will even let this alpha have a go with you, seeing as you have denied him his kill.”
Every muscle in my body hardens as the monster I knew was lurking inside him makes his presence known to me.
He releases me and turns to his people.
“The fight is over,” he says, and the monster slips back beneath his skin. “A gift to my betrothed, who is as gentle-hearted as she is beautiful.”
The muscles in the alpha’s shoulders are knotted and hard. Hot, raw anger radiates from him. It’s as if the wolf inside him is furious that he doesn’t get to kill someone.
He drops his arm to his side.
I’m breathing fast. My dress is too tight and the air too hot.
The alpha stands and turns away from the crowd. He lets a couple of guards cuff him.
“Put them back in their kennels,” says Sebastian. “The winner can go to the nicer ones. It’s only fair, and he will need his rest for what we have planned for tomorrow. Put the loser back with the rest. If he survives the night, we will find a job for him as my betrothed wishes. These creatures prey on the weak, though, so I doubt there will be much left of him by morning.”
A couple of armed guards lead the alpha away through the oak doors at the end of the hall, while a steward hurries forward to drag his opponent off the floor.
“My betrothed-like many women from the south-hasn’t the stomach for this sport, and why should she when she is such a beautiful flower? She will be taking her leave now, before the next fight. She needs to prepare for tomorrow night.”
His eyes harden, and my heart thuds frantically against the cage I keep it in. I dip my head regardless, and, steadying my trembling hands, I curtesy.
Without a backward glance, I hurry across the ring. I try to ignore how my skirts trail in the blood as I head through the doors.
Just ahead, the two fighters from the ring are being escorted away.
The alpha is almost at the end of the corridor. Behind him, the young wolf is drooping over the shoulder of the steward, his breathing ragged. He is not in good shape. If someone does not tend to his wounds he won’t be working in the stables any time soon. And if what Sebastian says is true-about Wolves preying on the weak. . .
“Wait!” I internally curse the shake in my voice. I should not be afraid. This is to be my home.
The alpha stills, and the torchlight from the corridor flickers across his hard profile. Though he’s twenty feet or so away from me, his body heat washes over me. His scent does, too-sweat and blood and the mountains. My heart races, but I turn my attention to the injured boy.
“Take the young one to the nice. . .
kennel.” The inhuman word catches in my throat.
I know these men are not human-even though they look it. I know that, being from the south, I’ve not had to face constant attacks from the Wolves like the north have. Perhaps if I had, I wouldn’t judge. The way the alpha fought in the ring proves the Wolves have little mercy within them.
Still, it feels wrong.
Ahead, the muscles in the alpha’s arms tense. He looks as if he’s going to turn around.
But then the guards push him through the next set of doors and he’s escorted away.
I let loose a breath.
The steward who is propping up the boy turns to me, his thick eyebrows knitting together. “The lord said-“
“I am to be your lady, and I’m the daughter of your king.” I stand straighter.
I have played pretend all of my life. I have smiled when my heart was breaking, I have laughed when I have been disgusted. I have swallowed my rage when a lord has been handsy with me on the dancefloor at a ball.
I can play the part of the formidable lady of this castle.
I raise my chin. “Put him in the nice kennels, and make sure he has a decent supper.”
I skirt past the two of them, and make my way through the labyrinth of stone corridors to my chambers in the northern wing.
There are a couple of handmaids waiting for me, and I allow them to dress me for bed in a long-sleeved white nightdress that reaches my ankles. I dismiss them, walking past the four-poster bed to stare out of the window at the rugged mountains in the north. The sky is lit by a crescent moon.
A growing restlessness writhes inside me as the trees sway in the distance and the wind batters the walls of the stone castle. What I said to the steward was true. Tomorrow I will be the lady of this castle. Yet I have no power.
I never have.
I have no power to take my leave of this place-to breathe in the scent of heather and fern, to bathe in bubbling brooks, or drink in local taverns. I have no power to speak to whom I choose, or form friendships, or to fall in love.