Filed to story: My Kidnapper Is the Wolf King
“The day I feel the need to prove myself to you is the day I relinquish my title as alpha of Highfell,” says Callum.
Blake somehow manages to look bored even with Callum tightly gripping his wrist. “If you want my help, you’ll put her in the tower.”
“No.”
“Fine. Keep her in your room. Have her sleep in your bed.”
Panic, mingled with something else, surges through my body.
“Out of interest, have you had many dealings with noblemen in the south?” Blake continues, conversationally. “I have. They’re a primitive lot. Did you know they require their brides to be untouched? Did you know, on occasion, they check?”
The blood drains from my face and Callum’s biceps clench. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Well, I’m curious, Callum. How do you expect to get her betrothed to agree to a trade when it’s only a matter of time before you have your cock buried inside her?”
My cheeks flame. “That’s not-“
“That’s enough, Blake,” growls Callum. “She’ll be staying where I can keep an eye on her.”
“The room in the tower is close to my chambers, and to yours. Do you think anyone would be foolish enough to try anything with either of us so close? She’ll be perfectly safe.”
“She’s too valuable to risk.”
“And what of the Heart of the Moon?” asks Blake. “How valuable is that? How will you trade her-“
I jerk forward, freeing myself from both of them and stumbling across the flagstones. Both turn their heads toward me.
Callum’s body is hard with tension, whereas Blake seems merely intrigued.
I’ve had enough of this charade. Blake knows who I am, and he seems to have the measure of Callum, as well.
“Does my opinion factor into the equation?” I ask. “Or are you going to keep on speaking about me as if I’m not here?”
Blake’s eyes gleam, while Callum looks a little sheepish. He releases Blake, and the dark-haired wolf leans back, resting his elbow casually on the arm of his chair.
“What is it that you want, Princess?” Callum asks, seemingly realizing the pretense is over.
Freedom. That is what I want. I want to be free from Sebastian, and to not have my fate determined by powerful men.
For that to happen, I need to be alone so I can figure out my next move.
I can’t plot against the Wolves, and find out more information about the Heart of the Moon and the Wolf King, if I am kept in Callum’s room, in his bed.
“I’ll need my own chambers,” I say. “If Sebastian found out that I’d shared a room with another man, I’d lose my value. You heard what he said back at the castle.”
The muscles along Callum’s jaw tighten. He sighs and inclines his head.
“Very well,” he says. “But I have a condition. And I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
Chapter Twenty-One
It could be my imagination, but Callum looks a little uncomfortable.
Blake, however, is grinning. He has one ankle on his knee. Again, he reminds me of a cat. This time, a cat who has found a couple of mice to play with.
Whatever this condition is, it cannot be good for me.
“You know, I didn’t take you for someone who would engage in such an archaic tradition, Callum,” says Blake.
“Aye, well, it’ll keep her safe until we can get the Heart of the Moon.”
“The Heart of the Moon. Yes. That’s the reason.” Blake’s eyes glint in the firelight.
“What condition?” I ask.
“I’ll tell you when we get upstairs.” Callum gets up. “Come on, it’s been a long night. You must be tired.”
“You really should challenge him for the title, you know,” says Blake.
Callum turns back around. “Who?” His tone is weighted.
“Rob, of course.” Blake picks up his wine glass. “Who else?”
“That would cause trouble, and you know it.”
“You’re the rightful second in command. They’re going to think you’re weak.”
“Only weak men feel the need to assert their dominance.”
“For once, you and I agree on something,” says Blake. “Others do not. You need to play the game sometimes, Callum.”
“And you should take a break from the game every once in a while, Blake. There are more important things than power.”
Blake’s gaze falls onto me for a moment, before a slow smile spreads across his face.
“Not for me,” he says.
***
My eyelids are heavy when Callum and I stop on a small, torchlit landing in the castle’s turret.
My breath mists in front of my face, but the labored climb has me hot and bothered. I’m not used to so much exercise. Callum hasn’t even broken a sweat.
“You said there was a condition,” I say, suppressing a yawn.
“Aye.” Callum pushes open a small wooden door. “It can wait until morning.”
He nudges me inside.
The room is small and filled with books. There are piles of them on a writing desk and they fill the rickety shelf beside it. There are even some stacked on the floorboards in one corner.
Against the wall, there’s a single bed.
There’s a scent in the air that seems familiar, but I can’t place it.
“Can Blake truly deal with Magnus?” I ask.
My insides twist with hate when I think of the wolf who burst into my bedchambers back in the Borderlands. He threatened me. Twice.
I’d have thought Callum would be better equipped to deal with a male like that. While Callum has been gentle with me, I saw him in the fighting ring. I know he would be a terrifying opponent.
Blake emitted a dark undercurrent of violence too, but it seemed more calculated and sharp-like a blade rather than a hammer.
“Blake has leverage on a lot of the Wolves here.” Callum’s eyes harden on the candle that flickers on the bedside table, as though it displeases him, before he continues. “He’s got something on Magnus. I don’t know what, but if anyone can keep him in check without me murdering him and losing his clan’s support, it’s Blake.”
When Callum opens the wardrobe, a low growl rumbles in his chest. It’s full of clothes.