Filed to story: My Kidnapper Is the Wolf King
A strangled noise escapes his lips. “Don’t you see? This gives you your freedom! You can stay in this room, you can wander around the castle by yourself if you wish.” He points at the window. “You can even go for walks outside. No one will touch you. You’ll be free.”
He steps forward, so that we’re only inches apart, and his scent envelopes me.
“The full moon is getting closer, Princess. We’ve got a wolf inside of us. All of us.” He puts a hand on his chest. “It affects us as it gets closer. It brings out certain. . . instincts. You’re not safe. Not unless you wear this. Not unless people think you’re mine.”
I shake my head. “No. It’s demeaning. I’m not doing it.”
Callum closes his eyes. “Ghealach, give my strength.”
He walks past me, drops the small box on the bed, then walks to the door.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“I’m going to get some breakfast.
You can stay here and think about your choices. Wear that, or have me at your side twenty-four seven.” He leans in the doorway, and the corner of his lip quirks. “Unless that’s what you want, Princess?”
“No!” I march toward him. “I’m hungry. I’m coming too.”
He laughs, darkly. “Oh, I don’t think so.”
I put my hand on his stomach in an attempt to push him away, then I still.
His torso is solid, and I can feel the ridges of his muscles through his linen shirt. His body heat sears my fingertips.
I have never touched a man like this before.
My gaze flits up to his. The humor has gone from his eyes-and just for a second, before he blinks a couple of times-I think I see his irises change shape.
I pull away as if I have been burned, and take a big step back.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble-then hate myself for apologizing. Hasn’t he manhandled me enough times since we met?
He looks at me curiously, his expression softening.
“You don’t have to apologize for touching me, Princess.” He raises an eyebrow. “Now, if you want to apologize for being as stubborn as an ox. . . well, that’s a different matter.” He looks at the small box on the bed. “Think about it. I’ll be back shortly when you’ve considered your options.”
And with that, he turns and leaves me alone.
I sigh and go and sit on the bed.
I pick up the small box, and look at the offending item inside once more.
In my lifetime, I have done many things I have not wanted to do to ensure my survival. I didn’t want to marry Sebastian to help my father secure the north, but I was planning to do it regardless. Because I feared what would happen to me if I didn’t.
Putting this on would be the wise thing to do. If Callum is telling the truth, it would allow me to freely walk around the castle and learn about the Wolves. Who else in the Southlands would ever have such an opportunity?
On the other hand, it is degrading. Even if I cast aside what my father would think, I have to consider my future. My people would never respect me if I put this on.
What’s more, Callum got frustrated with me when I refused. I don’t know why, but that satisfied me. He is so big and strong and in control-it makes me wonder what will happen if he loses it. What will happen if I provoke the wolf behind the man?
I drop the box back down onto the mattress beside me. If anything, I’d like to see what Callum does if I offer a little resistance. He deserves it for not bringing me any breakfast.
My stomach grumbles as I continue my exploration of my new chambers.
There are books everywhere. I pick out
A Healer’s Encyclopedia,
A Collection of Diseases and Ailments, and
A
Compendium of Poisons from among the titles. One dusty tome in particular catches my eye.
Experiments: Book One is handwritten in an almost illegible scrawl across the thick spine.
I open it on a random page.
Wolves Healing Times is written in blotchy letters across the top of the parchment.
Tool: Iron knife. Insertion made along Subject Thirteen’s lower torso, one inch deep. Healing time approximately three minutes, significantly faster than when cut with silver. If the blade was poisoned, would the substance linger beneath the skin? Test theory tomorrow.
Goddess! Did the former resident of these chambers write this book? I shudder, yet cannot help but flick to another page.
If I remove a wolf’s organs, will they grow back?
is written along the top of the parchment.
Someone knocks on the door, and I look up, startled, dropping the macabre book on my mattress. It lands with a thud, and releases a cloud of dust.
Has Callum realized he was harsh to leave me alone without breakfast? Or is it someone else?
I tiptoe to the door. “Who is it?”
“Can I come in?” The voice is female, and familiar.
Before I respond, Fiona walks into the room, bringing the earthy scent of horses with her. She’s carrying a tray that has a teapot and chipped cup, a bowl of steaming porridge, and a small pot of honey atop it.
“On Callum’s orders.” She brushes aside a stack of papers and sets the tray down on the writing desk. “I’m also under strict orders that I’m not-under any circumstances-to tell you Callum was the one who told me to bring it up to you.”
She grins over her shoulder, her brown eyes glinting.
“So why did you tell me?” I ask.
“Because he’s a good man. And I don’t see the point in hiding that.”
She turns and leans back against the desk, her gaze narrowing on the small box on my bed. From her expression, I wonder if she disapproves of it as much as I do.
“He told me who you are, and why he brought you here,” she says. “He also said you were being difficult.”
I fold my arms. “Well, what does he expect?”
“He expects you to treat him as your alpha, and to do everything he says. And he doesn’t know what to do with you, now he’s found out you won’t.”
“He doesn’t like people saying no to him, does he?”
“Oh, I think he does, actually. He’s not used to it.” She nods at the collar. “You don’t want to wear it? Why?”
I assess her, wondering whether to tell her the truth. Back home, the ladies who would keep me company at balls, or on walks in the grounds, would go along with anything I said-wanting desperately to gain my favor and the favor of the king.
I get the impression that, for once, I can have a candid conversation. Perhaps she’ll even understand.
“My whole life, I have been treated like a prize or a possession. I thought. . .” I sigh. “I don’t know. I thought it might be different here. Like, maybe I could be something, or someone, else. If I wear that thing, I just belong to another man. It’s the same as back home.”
She nods. “Aye. I get that. You know, it’s freer up here for females than it is in the Southlands. We can fight, and work in the stables, and we have a say in the clan politics. But you’ll have noticed that there were no females sitting at that alpha table in the Great Hall last night. And there are certain old wolf traditions that, in my opinion, should be wiped out.” She nods at the small box. “If it makes you feel any better, Callum doesn’t like it as a tradition, either. And wearing it will give you the freedom to go about the castle without fear.” She bites her bottom lip and looks like she’s deciding whether or not to tell me something. “Honestly, I’m surprised he decided to give it to you. The cost is as high for him as it is for you.”