The Wolf King: A Fantasy Romance

I burst into Blake’s room.

He’s draped in an armchair by the window, and doesn’t look up from the book he’s reading—the blue tome with stars on the spine that he took from my chambers.

“Please, do come in, little rabbit.” He flicks to the next page. “No need to knock.”

“He’s hurt. You need to come. Now.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Wolfsbane.”

His expression is unreadable, but he gets up.

He places the book on his writing desk, which has been tidied after the other night. In fact, the space is now immaculate; the bed is made, books are neatly tucked into the shelves along the wall, and the sheepskin rug by the hearth no longer glints with shards of broken glass.

He pulls a black leather case out of a drawer in his armoire, then heads to the door. I fall into step beside him.

When we enter Callum’s chambers, my stomach drops.

He’s pulled himself up onto the bed and his downy quilt is red with his blood. His breathing is raspy, and he’s barely moving.

“Callum?” I bolt across the room and grab his hand.

His fingers don’t curl around mine like they usually do. His skin is cold.

Dots dance in front of my eyes as Blake kneels by my side.

He grabs Callum’s shoulder and inspects the wound. “Why didn’t you ride back earlier, you stubborn fool?”

Callum’s eyes are glazed. I’m not sure he can hear what Blake is saying.

The chambers swim around me.

I recognize the look on his face. My mother had that expression not long before she died.

“Hold his shoulders.” Blake’s command jolts me back into my body.

I lean over the bed as Blake produces a small vial of translucent liquid from his case.

“Brace yourself,” says Blake. “He’s not going to like this.”

I force myself to breathe, even though the air is thick with the scent of blood and poison. It mingles with the heavy woodsmoke coming from the fireplace.

I nod, remembering how hard Ryan fought against the antidote when it was given to him. Callum must be double his size and strength.

Blake uncorks the vial and tips about half of it on the wound. It hisses, and my muscles tense, readying for a fight.

Callum doesn’t react.

A wave of nausea rolls over me. “Come on, Callum. Please.”

Blake brushes me aside and grabs Callum’s hair in his fist. He tips the rest of the liquid into his mouth, clamping his hand over his lips. When he pulls away, the translucent liquid dribbles down Callum’s chin.

Blake sighs, and panic fizzes in my chest.

“Why isn’t it working?” I ask.

Blake stares at Callum and his expression is unreadable.

“If this is how you wish to go, then don’t let me stop you.” He rests his forearms on the mattress and leans closer. “Don’t worry, I’ll look after your pet when you’re gone.”

“Blake,” I warn.

Callum’s eyes flicker open for a moment.

“You know, I haven’t decided how I’ll fuck her first.” Blake’s voice is low and seductive. “With my fingers, or my tongue.”

Callum’s head rolls to the side and he grunts.

The corner of Blake’s lip lifts. “What do you think I should do? There are so many possibilities. Perhaps I’ll have her ride my face.”

Callum growls, but the noise dies in his throat as his back arches up from the mattress.

“Stop it!” I snarl.

Blake leans closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Or perhaps I’ll have her on her knees before me while I sit on James’s throne, my fist in her hair, her lips moving up and down my cock as I fuck her mouth.”

Callum’s eyes jolt open. They are enraged, and they don’t move from Blake’s. He grips the bedsheets.

“I wonder—” continues Blake.

“That’s enough!” I lurch at Blake.

He hooks his arm around my waist, pulls me onto his lap, and slams his lips against mine.

I stiffen. Every muscle hardens as my blood turns to ice. For a moment, time is moving too quickly and too slowly at the same time.

It all floods back—Blake’s mouth crushed against mine, his strong arm holding me to him, the feeling of his thighs tensed beneath me. He’s barely breathing. I don’t think I am either. I jolt away and raise my hand to slap him.

Only, before I make impact with his face, the air is knocked from my lungs.

There’s heat and muscle against my back and my chest as the three of us crash to the ground. The floorboards groan, or perhaps it’s Blake as his head hits the floor. Callum’s growl vibrates against my ear. The scent of male sweat floods my nostrils.

I scramble from between them, my hair in my face, my breathing fast.

Blake gets the upper hand for a moment, and I almost stagger into the copper bathtub as they roll over on the ground. I dart aside, grabbing onto the mahogany bed post, as Callum pins him down and wraps his hands around Blake’s neck.

“There he is,” says Blake, on a choked breath.

Callum’s eyes are feral. All the muscles in his arms are pronounced. Fury ripples from him in waves. It is almost inconceivable that he was lying on the bed, close to death, just a moment ago.

Blake tilts his head to catch my eye. There’s blood dribbling from his nose.

“A little help,” he says through wheezing breaths.

My heartbeat slams against my ribs. My mind isn’t processing what is happening. I feel as if I’ve floated out of my body and I’m watching from far away. Callum was dying and Blake kissed me and now they are fighting. “Why on earth would I help—?”

My gaze snaps back to Callum’s face, and the wolf that is now glaring behind his eyes. The wolf that is fighting both Blake and the wolfsbane.

“Aurora,” Blake chokes.

I crash back into my body.

“Callum,” I say.

Despite the fury etched into every muscle of his body, his gaze snaps to mine. The distraction is enough for Blake to slam him onto his back. Callum groans, resting his head on the floorboards, the fight draining from his body.

“Fuck,” he moans.

“I know, I know,” Blake soothes. Blood is dripping from his nose, and it glints in the morning light.

“One of these days, Blake,” Callum murmurs.

“Yes. Yes. I’m sure you’ll try to kill me.”

Blake pushes himself to his knees. Callum grabs his wrist before he can get up fully. “Why?”

A sly smile spreads across Blake’s face. “Because I need you alive.”

He lightly slaps him on the cheek a couple of times. Then he gets up and walks to the door.

“Don’t ever touch her again,” says Callum.

Blake glances over his shoulder at me. His expression is cold. A mirror of my own expression, I’m sure. He turns swiftly away and disappears into the corridor.

“Princess? Are you alright?”

My gaze snaps to Callum and my eyebrows raise with a thousand questions. “You’re asking me that?”

He offers me a soft smile as I crash to my knees beside him.