The Wolf King: A Fantasy Romance

My grip on the silver letter opener is so tight that my knuckles are white.

The door is maybe a ten-foot dash from where I am, but I don’t think I can make it.

Every story I’ve ever heard about Wolves crashes through my mind; stories about torn flesh, massacred villages, blood and gore and murder.

At some point since I was taken, I let myself forget the cold, hard truth.

This male can turn into a wolf.

Callum is breathing heavily, and his hands grip the bedsheets on either side of him.

“It’s okay.” His voice is as rough as gravel. “You’re safe.”

“Your eyes. . .”

“I know.”

My breathing is fast, and my hand trembles as I brandish the ridiculously small weapon in front of me. “Are you going to turn into a wolf?”

His jaw clenches. “No. I can’t. Only on a full moon.”

I glance at the window. The candlelight is reflected in the glass. Beyond it, the mountains hide the shape of the moon.

“It’s not a full moon,” he says, a hint of amusement in his tone, as if he knows I’m checking.

“But I saw. . . your eyes.”

“Aye.” He lets out a shaky breath. “That happens sometimes. When I get a bit. . . emotional. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

I exhale. “You’re not going to change?”

“No. You’re perfectly safe.”

I frown. “Are you sure?”

He laughs, though it sounds a little forced. “Aye. I’m sure.”

My toes uncurl from the bedsheets. I move a little closer to him, and he tenses.

The floorboards creak as I slip off the bed. Warily, I approach.

He shifts his body in tandem with my movements, so that he’s facing me—his thighs slightly parting as I step between them. My legs brush against his kilt. His broad chest moves up and down deeply.

He smells like the outdoors, like the Northlands winds have clung to his skin and his clothing—but there’s heat beneath it. Like spice and woodsmoke. And he’s warm. So warm. How can a male radiate such heat?

His face tilts up, and candlelight flickers across his closed eyelids. The movement exposes his throat to me, and I hold the silver blade between us.

I take a shaky breath. “I want to see.”

Slowly, he opens his eyes.

My breath catches in my throat. His irises have expanded and changed shape. They’re still green, but brighter, and within them there are flecks of yellow and gold. His pupils are dilated and they’re as black as the depths of the forest at night.

They’re wolf’s eyes.

They are fascinating.

I have heard many stories about Wolves, but they all depict their brutality and lack of mercy when they raid our villages. I didn’t know their eyes could change when they looked like men, nor look so beautiful.

I touch his cheek. The muscles in his forearms flex as his grip on the mattress tightens.

“It happens when you’re emotional?” I ask. “What emotion are you feeling?”

“The same emotion as you, Princess.”

“I’m not feeling anything.”

He smiles, softly. “You might be able to hide your emotions from Southerners, Princess. You forget that I’m a wolf. I can sense things. Your heartbeat. . . your scent. . .” He swallows, hard. “It changes.”

My fingers inch down the side of his face, touching his rough stubble. “Don’t smell me.”

He laughs and it sounds like a growl. “I can’t help it.”

“I’m not feeling anything.”

“Okay.”

His eyes don’t move from mine. They are wary and alert, but there’s something almost vulnerable dancing around those flecks of gold.

The air feels thick and heady and strange. Static, almost. And tension coils in my lower stomach.

Despite the chill in the room, I am hot.

I have a male in my chambers after nightfall, even though I am betrothed to another. He’s an alpha of an enemy kingdom. He’s plotting against my father.

I know everything about this is wrong, but when his hands shift on the bedsheets, I want him to place them on my hips.

His gaze dips to my mouth, and I forget how to breathe.

I want to brush my lips against his.

I want to know what it’s like to kiss a man. Would Callum be soft and gentle, or hard and claiming? The latter would have scared me a week ago. Now, it heats my blood.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

When he opens them again, he averts his gaze to the floorboards between our feet. My hand drops to my side.

“It’s getting late.” Callum clears his throat. He stands, and I have to step back. “I should go.”

Disappointment carves a hole in my chest. “I thought you were going to stop my arms and legs from aching.”

He gives me a soft smile. “I think you want me to ease a different ache, Princess. And while, under different circumstances, I’d be happy to oblige, under these circumstances, it wouldn’t be right.”

My cheeks flame. “That’s not. . . how dare you suggest. . . I’m the Princess of the Southlands!”

It is strange that even though his eyes look like wolf eyes, I can see the glimmer of amusement in them.

“Nonetheless, I don’t trust myself right now.” He bows his head. “Good night, Princess.”

“Yes, good, you should go,” I say, raising my chin, pretending it was I who dismissed him. “It is late. Good night, Callum.”

He releases a shuddery breath as he exits my chambers.

Part of me wants to chase after Callum, and another wants to keep the door closed and never let him back inside again.

After dropping the letter opener on my bedside table, I sit on my bed and put my head in my hands.

I don’t know what is wrong with me.

I feel like I am playing with fire—and there’s a small dark part of me that wants to get burned.

Later, when I’m in my nightgown and settling down to sleep, I tell myself it was all just a lapse in judgement. I’ve had a long day, and the adrenaline made me want things I have never wanted before. That’s all.

I didn’t really want to kiss him. I didn’t really want him to touch me. That would be wrong. I am an unmarried woman, and that would go against everything I have been taught to believe. It would take me even further away from my duty to my kingdom.

But it occurs to me, in the dark of night, that if Callum did touch me, Sebastian would not want me anymore.

I close my eyes, pushing down the dark thoughts this revelation has created.

When I finally fall asleep, I dream of Callum’s mouth on my skin, his rough hands on my body, his strong arms holding me close to him.

And then I dream of unfamiliar wolf eyes, watching me, from deep within the forest.