Filed to story: My Kidnapper Is the Wolf King
My eyes jolt open.
Rain hammers against the walls, and the fire in the grate is completely out. As my vision adjusts to the darkness, I realize what woke me. There is faint shouting coming from somewhere within the castle.
I frown, my breath misting in front of my face.
Outside, something howls. The wind?
The door to my chambers bursts open and I sit upright, grasping the bedsheets.
“What is the meaning–?” The words die in my throat.
The horrible dark-haired male from the kennels prowls into the room. He’s still wearing the green kilt from earlier, but now he wears a linen shirt and boots as well. He smells acrid, like sweat mixed with something else unpleasant.
His gaze hones in on me and there’s something predatory in it. “Hello, sweetheart.”
Visions of his face, twisted and red, as he mounted the woman in the cells, flash before my eyes.
Two other men flank him, wearing the same green tartan. The bald one is tall and muscular with a dark beard and a serious expression. The other has ratlike features and mousy-brown hair that hangs to his chin.
Blood drips from their daggers onto the flagstones.
My heart stills. Time slows down.
One of them-the muscular one-closes the door behind him.
“You were right about her, Magnus,” says the ratlike one. “She’s quite a beauty.” He sniffs the air and grins. “Mm. So sweet and innocent too.”
“Aye.” Magnus’s thin lips curl into a twisted smile. “Not for long, though.”
I scramble from the four-poster bed and almost trip over my covers. I grab the letter opener from my bedside table and brandish it before me. Even though it is made of silver, it is a pathetic means to defend myself against three bloodthirsty Wolves.
They know it too.
The ratlike one snickers as Magnus stalks closer.
“Leave now.” My voice is shaking. “And Lord Sebastian will let you live.”
“Your lord is a bit busy right now,” says Magnus. “It’s just us, and you. I thought we could take the time to get to know each other better. What do you say?”
I want to clutch my arms over my body as he looks me up, but I do not want to lower the small blade. My nightdress is too thin and the ratlike one leers at my breasts. My nipples are hard due to the cold.
“Get. Out,” I hiss.
Magnus chuckles. “Come on, sweetheart. There’s no need to be like-“
The door to my room swings open.
“Out.” A low growl comes from the doorway.
The three males stiffen.
The alpha stands there. He’s wearing a crumpled white linen shirt and high boots as well as his red tartan kilt. His face looks like it is carved from thunder and stone. “Out.”
Magnus swallows, before a smile twists back onto his face and he turns. “It’s just a bit of fun-“
“Now,”
says the alpha.
The alpha is bigger than the other three wolves, and there’s something in his eyes that promises death. Magnus seems to realize that, and shakes his head.
“Come on, lads. Time to get the fuck out of here.” He grins and gives me a mock bow. “Until we meet again, Your Highness.”
The alpha shuts the door behind them. My mouth is dry and my head is whirling. Is he my savior? Or does he have something even worse in mind?
“Are you hurt?” he asks.
I hold up the letter opener and curse my trembling hand.
“I’m sorry about them. Their whole clan-” His green eyes darken. “They’ll pay for it later.”
“You need to leave.”
“Aye. I do.” He swallows, and his gaze moves from the wardrobe to the crescent moon through the window. As the silence extends between us, I hear more shouting in the castle. “Do you have a warm cloak?”
“Why?”
“It’s cold outside.”
“I don’t see why that is of any relevance to me,” I say, my voice higher in pitch than I’d like it to be.
A flicker of regret crosses his face. “Aye, you do.”
A humorless laugh escapes my lips and I step back. “You can’t possibly think I’m going with you.”
“You are, Princess.”
“You. . . you won’t hurt me,” I say.
He sighs. “That’s where you’re wrong. I won’t kill you. And I won’t lay a finger on you in the way those bastards were threatening. But you’re coming with me. And if I have to overpower you in order to make that happen, I can’t promise that won’t hurt.”
I narrow my eyes, tilting my chin up. “I helped you, earlier.”
“Aye, you did. And I appreciate that, Princess. I really do. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m taking you with me.”
When he steps forward, I brandish the letter opener before me. “Stay back.”
The blade is laughably small in relation to his huge build, but he raises his hands placatingly. “Please calm down.”
Emotions that have lain dormant inside me for years awaken.
“How dare you tell me to calm down.”
Every time my father, or the priest, or my brother dismissed me for daring to show emotion, flashes before my eyes and feeds the wildness growing inside me.
“You come into my chambers in the middle of the night,” I slice the blade through the air, “thinking you can steal me from my bed.” I cut the space between us. “And you act as if I am overreacting?”
I jab the letter opener at his stomach and he grabs my wrist.
I still. His hand is callused and strong as it wraps around the bone.
“Get off me,”
I hiss.
He bends my wrist and the tiny blade hits the stone floor and clatters. Crouching down, he picks it up. He winces when the silver comes into contact with his skin.