Filed to story: My Kidnapper Is the Wolf King
Doubt seeps through me as I pass the flask back. “Are you sure? You seem to be putting a lot of trust in a male who just betrayed you.”
Callum takes a sip, then puts the water back in the pack.
“Aye. I know my brother. If we can stay out of his reach for the next couple of days, we can put all of this behind us. I’m certain of it.” He squeezes my leg. “That means we don’t stop to rest until nightfall.”
He chuckles as I groan.
***
It is dark when we finally stop on the shore of a great dark loch.
I sit in front of the fire Callum lit before he led the horse to a copse of trees.
My headache has eased, and though my muscles ache and I’m weary from travelling, my soul feels lighter than it has in days.
It’s peaceful here. It seems as though we are the only souls around.
Perhaps I have finally escaped my fate.
When Callum doesn’t return for twenty minutes or so, though, fear starts to gnaw at me. What is he doing? Has someone found him? Has he grown tired of my foul mood and abandoned me?
I’m about to go look for him when he emerges from the trees carrying some hunks of bread and cheese. The pebbles crunch beneath his boots.
Relief floods me, but is quickly replaced by a strange tension as he passes me the food, then sits on a rock on the other side of the flames. Something shifts in the air.
We eat in silence.
It is as if we both realize we are completely alone for the first time since he took me from Sebastian’s castle.
Something has been growing between us since then. Strong, and pervasive, and passionate. Something we both thought was wrong.
Yet the main reason we have not been fully. . . intimate. . . with one another, is not because I wanted to maintain my honor.
It is because Callum believed I was his prisoner.
Surely, he does not feel that way any longer.
He gives me a soft smile. The firelight dances over his strong features. He takes a deep breath, and I think he’s going to say something, but he sighs and takes another bite of bread.
I offer a small smile back, then go back to my food, even though my insides are clenching.
I wish I was not nervous. I wish I could walk over to him and give him what he wants-like those ladies Sebastian would send to the Wolves. Yet I am lost. Overwhelmed. I do not know what to do, nor what he expects from me.
I swallow the last piece of bread, then brush the crumbs off my breeches. I chew my bottom lip, searching for something-anything-to say to break this never-ending silence.
“This is. . . this is a nice. . . loch,” I say, looking at the black water.
“Aye. That it is.”
Silence falls once more, punctuated only by the crackling flames. I take a deep breath, smelling woodsmoke and damp earth.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Aye.”
“Last night, when you. . . when you kissed me. . . were you angry with me?”
“No.” He smiles sheepishly. “I was jealous.”
I fail to suppress the twitch of my lip.
He leans forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “I’m pleased to see my inner turmoil amuses you, Princess.”
“You don’t need to be jealous because I danced with Blake.”
“Aye, I know. It’s just. . . seeing you both. . .” He sighs and shakes his head, running his hand over his mouth.
“What?”
“I don’t know. He looked like a Southlands lord, and you his lady. I didn’t like that. Not one little bit. In the real world. . . you and I. . . I’d never stand a chance with you, would I? But him-“
“This is the real world.”
“You know what I mean.” He shakes his head. “And there you go, smiling again.”
“Sorry.” I bite my lip. “It’s just. . . You’re so strong and confident all the time. I suppose it’s reassuring to know you have irrational thoughts like the rest of us.”
A wide grin spreads across his face. “You think that’s irrational?”
“I suppose we would never have been matched by my father. You are from the Northlands. Although if you had worn those awful breeches of yours, and put on a Southlands accent, I’m sure you could have infiltrated the palace. Once we’d met, I would have liked you, I’m certain of it.”
“Oh aye?”
“Yes.”
“Perhaps. Though you thought I was a monster when we first met.”
Cold shame spreads through my body. It is hard to believe I could have thought this male, this wolf, was a monster. Perhaps I was a monster, to automatically assume such a thing.
“I know. I’m sorry for that,” I say. “I’ve learned a lot about Wolves since then.”
“Like what?”
“Well. . . I know they like to wander around naked a lot.” Callum laughs. “They’re horribly inappropriate. And they like to sniff people all the time.” He laughs louder. “They’re always fighting and brawling, and they listen to incredibly screechy music despite their very good sense of hearing. And some of them, like humans, are not very pleasant. But some. . . Some are gentle and kind and funny and caring. Some are good men.”
The smile dies from his lips, an intensity crossing his features. The tangle of nerves in my stomach starts to tighten once more.
“And some of them do not know how to behave like gentlemen,” I add, raising my chin.
He laughs, breaking the tense moment. “Aye, that might be true. You know, I’ve learned a lot about princesses these past few weeks, too.”
I give him a hard look. “Like what?”
“They’re very stubborn.” His eyes twinkle as I fold my arms across my chest. “And very fearsome. And very small.” I glare at him and he grins. “They’re a wee bit spoiled.”
“They are not!”
“And intelligent. They can’t handle their whisky. And they pretend to be very chaste and shy, but. . .” He drops his voice to a whisper, as though telling me a secret. “They’re actually very, very demanding.”
My cheeks flame and he laughs, loudly.
“They blush when you say rude things to them. And they’re good, and interesting, and honest, and kind. They hide their emotions, but they feel deeply. Passionately.” His expression becomes serious and my blood heats up. “They care about people more than they will admit. And they’re brave. Braver than any wolf I’ve ever known.”
There’s a tightness in my throat, and I swallow, trying to push it back. I do not know what is wrong with me, it’s just-
“I’ve upset you?” asks Callum, frowning.