The Wolf King: A Fantasy Romance

Run.

Although my heartbeat skitters in my chest, I turn to stone. My feet grow roots and I cannot move. I can only stare in horror, unblinking, at Blake.

The ghostly glow from the full moon reflects off his damp skin. He stalks toward me.

“Run.” His voice is different—low, and raspy.

The air is charged. It feels like lightning is about to strike.

And then he changes.

It only takes a few seconds, but every bone in his body breaks and shifts.

And what is left in his place. . .

Time stops.

He is as large as a wild bear. His fur is black, making him at one with the shadows. His eyes, amber, glow in the darkness. He bares his teeth and growls. Adrenaline surges through my body, cracking the stone and uprooting my feet.

Run, my brain screams.

Just as the beast leaps, I turn.

I bolt out of the room.

I knock my shoulder against the door frame as I escape, veering into the opposite stone wall, then stumbling into the center of the corridor.

There’s a crash behind me. A gnashing of teeth.

My feet pound against the stone floor, propelling me forward. I do not know where I’m going. The night is dark. The corridors and stairways unfamiliar. Again, I am alone in a labyrinth of stone and shadow, and the beast is getting closer.

One word repeats in my mind, over and over again, as the sound of my heartbeat rages in my ears.

Run. Run. Run.

His claws scrape and clack against the flagstones. There’s a smash as he barges into a wall, knocking an unlit sconce from its holder. His growl vibrates through my chest.

Faster. Faster. Faster.

I reach a stairway.

The wolf crashes in front of me, skidding over the stone. I change course, and he blocks me again with his teeth bared. His heat swamps me as I veer in the opposite direction.

He is leading me further into the maze, herding me like the dogs on the farms do with the sheep before they are slaughtered.

Goddess, help me.

The walls close in as I sprint past them. My hair sticks to my face, and my body is drenched in sweat. My cloak constricts me. The air is hot. Claustrophobic.

I need to get out of here. I need to feel the wind, and taste the mountains. I need the freshness of the rain to touch my face, and I need to see the infinite sky—even if it is not my goddess that lights it tonight.

I don’t want to be herded into my own tomb.

I will not die tonight.

Something inside me screams.

Fight. Fight. Fight.

I hurl the silver letter opener over my shoulder. I don’t wait to see if I hit my target, though he is so big, surely I cannot miss. A crash, then an aggressive growl, fills my ears. I don’t pause. I wrench a large oil painting off the wall as I pass, partially blocking the path.

Ahead, there is the stairway that Callum carried me up when I arrived at the castle.

I almost fall in my haste to get down it, regaining my balance only when I reach the bottom. Then I’m in the entrance hall, and the wolf is behind me—but the doors are open and the night is ahead.

The wind rattles the walls, and it speaks to me.

Come. Come. Come.

My muscles screaming, I hurtle out into the deserted courtyard, then beyond the castle walls into the open wilderness.

The air has never tasted so fresh, and yet I am not safe. Not yet.

Heavy paws stir the wet earth behind me, and a growl is carried on the wind.

On one side of me is the loch, silver in the light of the moon. On the other, there is nothing but open space and the steep incline of the hill that Callum and I rode down when we arrived here.

I run in the other direction, past the castle and toward the thousands of evergreen trees whispering to me.

Hide. Hide. Hide.

The wind blows my hair from my face.

The air shifts as I enter the forest. It gets damper and darker. The smell of bark and heather floods my senses. Pine needles and twigs crunch beneath my boots.

A crash resounds behind me as the wolf—as Blake—leaps into one of the trees, using it to propel him into my path.

I change course, weaving through the tall trunks, barely feeling the branches that scratch my face.

And I’m aware he is herding me again. He keeps jumping in front of me, teeth gnashing, as he dismembers trees and scatters the undergrowth. I keep having to change course, desperate to escape his fierce jaws.

He knows this forest. He knows something I do not.

I find out what it is when I burst into a clearing.

A fast-moving river cuts the path ahead, crashing against the rocks and weaving to the right. I veer left but there is a thicket of thorns so thick there is no way through.

“No!”

A low, threatening sound fills the clearing.

I turn.

Neon amber eyes flash in the gloom between the trees.

The wolf stalks forward.

“Blake. . .” I say, breathless, edging back even as the river crashes behind me. “You don’t want to do this.”

I do not want to beg.

I do not want to die.

“Blake. Please.”

He pauses, tilting his head to the side.

“You know. . . who I am.” I gulp down the thick air. “This. . . is a mistake.”

His eyes glint. Intelligence radiates from him, even in his wolf form.

I don’t know if he understands me. I don’t know if I could persuade him even if he did.

“What about the Heart of the Moon?” I try to reason with him. “If you kill me, you won’t get it.”

He looks up at the sky between the branches and howls. It is long and mournful, and it raises the hairs on the back of my neck.

“If you hurt me, Callum will kill you.”

The way his mouth moves. . . it almost looks like he is grinning. Dread fills me. Perhaps provoking Callum is the whole point.

He snarls, and the noise is primal. There is no way to reason with him.

I veer to the side, but it is too late.

He crashes into my chest, and my back hits the undergrowth. The air is knocked from my lungs.

I push and struggle against him, my hands sinking into fur, my head tilting away from gnashing teeth. He is crushing me, immeasurably heavy and strong. I kick one of his legs and he growls.

“Get off me!” I screech.

My fingers fumble in the dirt, my heart leaping when they close around a rock. I smack him in the head with it, turning and crawling from beneath him.

He bites the collar of my cloak and drags me back, turning me over with his paws so I’m forced to look up at him.

His eyes glint, a predator pleased he has caught his prey. He licks my face, as if taunting me, his tongue hot and rough and disgusting.

My skin crawls, but I do not have enough air in my lungs to scream.

When he bares his teeth, I know I’m dead.

The river crashes behind me. The wind stirs the branches above.

Fight, it seems to say.

Fight. Fight. Fight.

I bare my teeth back, feeling something feral and wild knock loose inside me.

His lip curls above his teeth. And then a lower, more threatening growl rumbles through the forest. It stirs the trees and shakes the earth. Blake’s ears prick up.

I cannot see beyond him, but something is approaching. From Blake’s reaction, it must be something even worse than he is.

Blake turns. I gulp in the sweet taste of the night as I scramble from beneath him, dragging myself closer to the river.

Another wolf prowls into the clearing.

He is huge, with tawny fur and bared teeth. The ground seems to shudder as he approaches. Fear grips my heart and squeezes. Fiona’s warning to stay inside the castle tonight resounds in my mind.

The wolf’s gaze locks onto mine.

His eyes are green, with flecks of gold and yellow.

“Callum?” I breathe.

He growls, his gaze moving back to Blake.