The Wolf King: A Fantasy Romance

There is a ball of nervous energy inside me.

I walked into a den of Wolves, and they’re looking at me like they’re going to devour me. And this is before they’ve even discovered my true identity; the daughter of their enemy king.

It is only the dark-haired man draped over the chair at the end who seems disinterested in my fate.

“You’re not going to do anything with her,” says Callum. There’s a deathly calm to his tone. “She was Sebastian’s prisoner, and now she’s with me. I wanted to speak with James, but as he’s not here, we’ll be taking our leave.”

He grabs my hand.

“No,” says Robert, softly.

Callum stills, and a thick tension spreads across the room, mingling with the heady scent of woodsmoke. He releases me.

“No?” he says, his voice equally quiet.

Robert nods at me. “Who is she?”

I raise my chin. My eyes flit momentarily to the narrow window and the mountains beyond—the freedom that I desire. “I’m—”

“Her name is Rory,” says Callum. “A kitchen maid. Not that it’s any of your concern.”

A flicker of irritation cuts through the fear. Must it always be this way for me? Men discussing my future as though I have no say in it myself.

A crunch momentarily distracts me as the man at the end of the table bites into his apple. His eyes are on me, now. Glinting.

Callum shifts so that his body shields me from him—even though the man posing as the king is clearly the bigger threat.

“Why did you bring her here?” asks Robert.

“That’s none of your concern,” replies Callum.

Robert laughs darkly. “I won’t have a human walking freely in my castle. Though perhaps she can stay with me and keep my bed warm.”

A low growl vibrates in Callum’s chest and the humor disappears from Robert’s face. Beside him, Duncan rises and his hand moves to a sword in his belt.

It was foolish to come here, to think it would end differently than this.

These men will fight for me. And if Callum loses, will I be killed? Or will my fate be even worse?

I let a childish dream of freedom, and a wolf with kind eyes, ensnare me. Now I am in more danger than ever before.

Callum’s hand curls into a fist at his side.

“Oh, let him keep his pet.” The man at the end of the table finally speaks. His voice is as smooth as silk, and, to my surprise, he speaks with a Southlands accent. “Did I ever tell you about the time my mother let me keep a rabbit?” He looks at Robert, before going back to his apple. “When she took it from me, I cried.”

No one speaks for a moment. Silence hangs over us like a shroud. Robert sinks back into his seat and scrapes his hand over his stubble.

He chuckles. “Very well. Keep your pet, Callum. But she earns her keep.”

“I can find a use for her,” says the man with the Southlands accent.

“No,” says Callum.

The dark-haired male leans forward, resting his chin on his hand. “You know, little rabbit, I was in your king’s army, once. Perhaps we’ve already met.”

There’s something pointed in his words and my whole body stills. Does he know who I am?

Callum clasps my hand, but his heat is not enough to thaw the ice that spreads through my veins.

“She’s under my protection,” he says roughly.

Tension radiates from him as he pulls me out of the room and into the corridor. I almost stumble. He is silent as he leads me back through the labyrinth.

I shouldn’t have come here. I should have stayed with my people, and done my duty. I was foolish to think I was clever enough to survive this.

Callum squeezes my hand, as if he senses the direction of my thoughts, and my pulse steadies a little.

Then I pull out of his grasp.

He gives me a puzzled look.

“It’s inappropriate,” I say, quietly, as we climb the stairway.

He laughs, surprised. “That’s what you’re concerned about right now?”

“Well. . . no, Callum. I’m more concerned that I’m in a castle full of Wolves, my life is in danger, and your plan has failed.”

Callum stops outside a room. “I’ll keep you safe, Princess. You have my word.”

“And what? You’re just going to fight every single wolf in this castle, are you?”

“If I have to.”

He leans over my shoulder to push the door open, revealing bedchambers. His, presumably. A large four-poster bed dominates the space and my blood heats.

I have never been in a man’s bedchambers before.

“Go on,” he says. He walks forward, nudging me through, then closes the door behind us.

He drops into a leather armchair by a window that looks out onto the loch.

There is a large armoire on one wall, and a chest at the foot of the bed. The dark wooden floor is covered with a tartan rug, the same color as his kilt. Above his headboard hangs an oil painting of a rugged landscape. There’s a copper bathtub, filled with steaming water, in front of the fire in the hearth. I look at it longingly.

“I’m sorry I put you in that situation, Princess,” says Callum.

I shift on my feet. “What do we do now?”

He blows out air. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I don’t think anyone would be foolish enough to try anything with you under my protection. But I don’t like it. And if they find out who you are. . .” He shakes his head. “Either way, it looks like you’ll be staying with us for a while longer yet.”

“That man. . . The one with dark hair who was sitting at the end of the table. He knows who I am.”

Callum runs a hand over his full lips, then leans back in his chair. “Aye. I think so too.”

“Who is he?”

His expression darkens. “His name is Blake. He’s the most dangerous male in the Kingdom of Wolves, and he has the power to either help us, or destroy us. There’s a feast tonight. I’ll speak with him then. And I need you to come with me.”