The Wolf King: A Fantasy Romance

Callum is no longer the male I have come to know. He is no longer gentle and protective and kind. He is the wolf that chased Blake in the forest—wild and feral and hungry.

His muscles are tensed, and his biceps look like they’re about to rip free from his rolled-up sleeves. His forearms are corded and they’re like steel.

And the scent of him—Goddess, the scent of him—is somehow dark and primal and powerful.

His eyes glow in the darkness, and they are locked on mine.

My whole body is hot. Aching. Restless.

What is wrong with him? What is wrong with me?

I cannot decide whether to run away from him, or run toward him.

I am ensnared. I can’t move, even though the Northlands winds seem to rage inside me.

The air pulses as he gets closer and heat radiates from him.

“Callum!” A sharp female voice slices through the darkness.

He spins around and growls. His power rumbles across the small landing as Fiona comes into view, panting. She halts at the top of the winding staircase and her stance widens—as if she’s getting ready to fight. Even if she’s only wearing a thin nightgown, and her brown hair is loose.

“Callum!” Command laces her tone, despite the wariness on her face. “Go cool down.”

He snarls and the sound is deep with menace. He prowls toward her.

She tilts her head back and grits her teeth. The wolf flashes behind her eyes. Callum’s hands are in fists at his sides.

“Cool. The fuck. Down.” Fiona prods him in the chest with each word. “Now.”

He growls, and I cannot help but marvel at Fiona’s courage. She doesn’t even flinch.

I fear for her, though. Callum is not himself.

I try to reach out to him with my thoughts, as if my will alone could stop him from harming her.

Calm down. Calm down!

Callum’s broad shoulders soften. Something in the air shifts.

He pushes past her and stalks down the stairs.

Fiona’s body deflates, and the wolf disappears from her eyes. I exhale and crumple against the doorframe, even though tension coils within me.

“Well, that was. . . interesting,” says Blake.

I’d almost forgotten he was there.

He leans against the stone wall, the torchlight flickering across his face. The top few buttons of his shirt are undone where Callum grabbed him. He cocks an eyebrow at Fiona.

“Breathe a word of this to anyone, and I’ll end you.” She points her finger at him. “Now, piss off.”

He dips his head deferentially. He almost looks like he’s bowing. Fiona flinches, and I’m not sure why.

He pushes off from the wall and saunters past her down the stairs.

“I mean it, Blake,” she hisses. “Not a word.”

The darkness does not reply.

She looks troubled. When she notices me looking, she composes herself and offers me a smile.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

She laughs, and whatever darkness that was plaguing her lifts. “You’re asking about me? Aye. I’m fine. Are you alright?”

“Yes.” I bite my bottom lip. “What. . . what was wrong with him? Is he okay?”

“Callum? Oh, aye. That big oaf is just fine. He’ll be mortified, later, though. It’s. . . it’s a wolf thing.”

When I fold my arms, she grins.

“We might want to have this conversation somewhere private.” She gestures over my shoulder.

I step aside, and she enters my room.

She settles on my bed, leaning against the wall and stretching her bare feet over the side of the mattress as I shut the door.

“Why was he acting like that?” I ask.

I sit down beside her, though keep a little distance between us. I’m not used to anyone being this comfortable around me.

“He’s become. . . a wee bit attached to you since he brought you here. And it’s the night after the full moon. The wolf hasn’t quite settled yet.” She chews her bottom lip. “This is potentially a bit. . . awkward. . . but were you, perhaps, relieving some tension earlier?”

There’s an aura of wicked amusement rippling off her.

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“You know, scratching an itch? Easing some frustrations?” When I just look at her blankly, she whispers, “You know. . . touching yourself?”

My cheeks flame. “What? No!”

Her eyebrows raise. “No? Hm. You were feeling a wee bit. . . restless?”

My face is on fire. I stare at the bookshelf across the room, the dream I had about Callum flashing through my mind. “No!”

Fiona chuckles softly. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Your scent. . . it changes depending on your emotions. Fear. Anger. Arousal. As Wolves, we can often pick up on these shifts. Particularly when we’re attuned to a certain person.”

My heartbeat thumps against my chest, mortification wrapping its cold fingers around my heart.

“He could smell my dream?”

“Ah, so you had a dream?” She grins. “I’m not sure exactly what happened. My guess is he sensed the shift in you and came to stand guard, in case any other Wolves sensed it too. Like Blake.”

“Blake?” My blood turns cold, and dislike pulses through my body.

“I’d wager that’s what set Callum off. Once he let the wolf take over. . . well. . . his attention will have been consumed by you.” She shakes her head. “I’ve never seen him get that worked up before.”

She swallows, and all the color drains from her face.

“And then. . . Callum and I. . .” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “In front of Blake. . . shit.”

“What?”

She wrings her hands together. “I challenged Callum, my alpha. And he backed down.”

“And that’s bad?”

“Aye. That’s bad. It’s—”

“A wolf thing?” I arch my eyebrow.

“Aye.” She sighs and her breath plumes in front of her face. “It gives me the right to openly challenge him for alpha of Highfell.”

I’m slightly concerned for Callum, but my curiosity is spiked. “A female can be alpha?”

“Aye. Though it’s rare. Archaic traditions make it hard for us to gain the status.”

“Will you challenge him?”

She lets out a dark laugh. “No. Course not. I have no designs on the role.”

“So why are you worried?”

“Because if Blake tells anyone and it becomes open knowledge, Callum and I will have to fight it out. Physically. Publicly.” Her stare is dark and blank. “Wolf law.”

She tries to look like she’s unaffected, but she fiddles with her fingers.

“Blake won’t tell anyone,” I say.

“He’d better not.”

“He hasn’t told anyone about me yet.”

She gives me an almost pitying look, as if I’m being naïve. “He’s not doing that out of the goodness of his heart, Rory. He’s playing some sort of game.”

I stop myself from rolling my eyes. I’m not a fool. “I know. He has us all where he wants us. You challenging Callum for alpha would disrupt that. He won’t tell.”

Fiona’s stare is puzzled. Appraising.

“You seem to understand that snake better than any of us,” she says.

“I grew up in the palace, in a den of vipers. I would be a fool not to learn their language.”

“I hope you’re right.” She shuffles off the bed, and heads to the door. “Can I ask you something, Rory?”

Her gaze is so penetrating I have to force myself to meet it. I don’t want her to look too deeply inside me. I’m afraid she’ll see that I’m a viper too. Didn’t I allow myself to be taken here, to gain intelligence on the Wolves that I could use to barter for my freedom?

“Do you want to go back home?” she asks. “To the Southlands? Your father? Sebastian?”

Every muscle in my body hardens, and every bone stiffens.

No, my soul is screaming, but I’m that statue in my dreams again and I can’t get the words out. No. No. No.

I am not ready for that question. I am not ready to admit I want to neglect my duty, my kingdom, my role as the princess.

I am not ready to give voice to the truth.

I am a traitor to the Southlands.

“Why do you ask me that?” I have to fight to keep my voice even.

“Because you’re right. You do speak their language.” She shrugs. “I think you could be more useful to us than a hostage to be traded for the Heart of the Moon. Don’t you?”

I don’t respond. I may not want to go home, not truly. That doesn’t mean I want to commit treason.

She closes the door behind her—leaving me alone with my thoughts and the darkness.

I am restless as I get back into bed.

My mind whirls over everything Fiona said. My thoughts are like daggers. I am destined to either betray my kingdom, or betray Callum by telling my father all I’ve learned about the Wolves since I got here.

Through my guilt, I keep thinking about Callum prowling toward me with his eyes dark with intent.

What would have happened if Fiona hadn’t arrived?

Would he have thrown Blake aside and kissed me? Would he have carried me to the bed? Would he have eased this ache that consumes me?

Heat surges through my body and throbs between my legs.

I’m on fire as I imagine his mouth on mine, his hands gripping my hips. I slide my hand up my thigh, and imagine it’s his. I’m aching. I need it to stop, I need—

Someone knocks on the door and I breathe in sharply. I know, without opening it, that it’s Callum.

Cheeks flaming, I slip out of bed, and prowl across the room. I open the door a crack, my heart hammering.

Callum’s eyes are human once more. His expression is soft, remorseful, even. He’s soaking wet, and his shirt and breeches cling to his body. As usual, he’s emitting heat.

“May I come in?” he asks.