The Wolf King: A Fantasy Romance

I enter Blake’s chambers without knocking.

He’s in his armchair again, reading that book he took from my room.

He turns the page, then reaches for a teacup on the table beside him. From the fresh herbal scent in the room, I’d wager it is full of peppermint tea.

He takes a sip, then goes back to his book. “Have you met the last person, other than you, who burst into my chambers unannounced?” he asks.

“No?”

“That’s because they’re dead.”

“Am I supposed to be scared?”

“Yes.” He flicks the page. “You smell like wet dog, by the way. I knew Callum wouldn’t be able to resist playing with his new toy.”

I hold up his black collar to show I won’t be wearing it anymore. “I’ve come to return this.”

He shrugs, not lifting his gaze from his book. “You can put it on the desk.”

Irritation flares inside me. Is he not even going to look at me?

Deep down, I know it’s not just annoyance at Blake that flickers beneath my skin and makes my chest feel tight. It’s fear too; I’m afraid of this unchartered territory I find myself in.

I’m playing a game and I don’t know the rules any longer.

I’m lost among Wolves, and I think I am falling for one of them. I shared something with him last night that is forbidden to me. And he has been distant with me all morning. And soon, I must meet with his king—a male so fearsome that the other Wolves fall behind him.

I thought if I came to the Northlands, I could win the right to choose my own fate.

But the Wolf King is the one who holds all the cards here, and I do not know what moves I need to play in order to win.

I take a deep breath, forcing my emotions down and hardening my soul. I focus my attention on the wolf before me instead.

He looks as disheveled as he did on the night of the storm. Perhaps even more so.

He’s wearing the same clothes as last night. His white shirt is untucked and there are a few spots of blood on his unbuttoned collar. His dark hair is messy, and his feet are bare as he rests them on a footstool.

The candle beside him flickers, and is almost burnt out, even though the morning light permeates the narrow window behind him.

I wonder if he’s slept at all.

“Are you going to apologize?” I ask.

His gaze slides to mine as if I’ve finally caught his attention. “I saved his life. You should be thanking me.”

“You said. . .” My cheeks flame. “You said some very inappropriate things about me.”

A stupid dimple creases one of his cheeks. The smile doesn’t meet his eyes. “Come now, you can’t be acting shy any longer. Not after whatever you and that big oaf got up to last night.”

“You. . . you kissed me!”

“It was hardly a kiss.”

A tornado rages inside my chest, rattling my bones, and I need to release it. I toss his collar onto the floor between us. “Here.”

As soon as I’ve done it, I regret it.

I don’t know much about Wolves, but these collars are important to the alphas. Blake may be different than the others, but he is an alpha nonetheless.

For a moment, we’re paused in time. Neither of us moves, and the air is heavy and silent.

He slides his feet off the footstool, and rises.

A part of me wants to step back, but I make myself hold my ground. I won’t cower. Not before him.

He surprises me by crouching onto one knee before me. He picks up the collar, then looks up.

His body heat envelopes me, and I catch the scent of dark forests and peppermint tea.

He moistens his lips, and for some reason, what Callum did to me last night crashes into my mind. Followed by one of the horrible things that Blake said. About having me ride his face.

When Blake smirks, I realize that was exactly his intention.

I have had many things to be angry about. My father, selling me off to the highest bidder. My mother dying. My brother’s cold indifference. The High Priest’s cruelty. It is now that wild fire spreads through my veins. And when Blake slowly rises to his full height, I slap him across the face with all the strength I have.

The crack echoes around his chambers as his head jerks to one side.

I pull back, stunned, my heartbeat the only thing I can hear, my palm stinging. I cannot believe I just did that. I have never hit anyone in all my twenty years of life. Princesses don’t hit people.

They especially don’t hit Wolves. Or alphas. Or alpha Wolves that other alphas seem to fear.

Callum described Blake as the most dangerous male in the Kingdom of Wolves, and I just slapped him. Goddess!

As the mists of rage and confusion ebb away, I notice Blake is smiling. His cheek is bright red and his eyes dance.

“The rabbit has grown some claws,” he says.

“Don’t touch me again.”

“Likewise.” He walks back across the room, tossing the collar on the table, before dropping into his armchair. “Out of interest, what will you do if I touch you again?” He arches an eyebrow. “Put buckthorn in my tea?”

I narrow my eyes. “Wolfsbane.”

He smiles, then leans back in his seat and rests his ankle on his knee. He grabs his book and starts reading, as if he’s finished with me, as if I’m no threat.

I decide he is not worth any more of my time. I have more important things to worry about. I turn on my heel and stride back to the door.

“Aurora,” says Blake.

“What?”

“You’re not planning on meeting the Wolf King dressed like that, are you?”

Don’t bite. Don’t bite. Don’t—

“What’s wrong with this dress?” I ask, turning back around.

“You look like a pretty little doll.” The way he says it doesn’t sound like a compliment.

“Perhaps that’s the point.”

“This is not the kingdom of men.”

“Meaning?”

“Do you want to face the Wolf King as a queen or a doll?”

“I’m not a queen.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Are you a doll?”

“I’ll be either if it gets me out of this alive.”

He smirks. “James likes his women bold.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Probably wise. But I’m not lying.”

I scowl as I head out his chambers.

As much as I hate to admit it, I’d gone to Blake’s chambers to release some of this pent-up fury. If anything, I now feel even more unsettled. My mind is reeling as I navigate the stone corridors, and make my way back to Callum’s room.

Is Blake lying to make a fool out of me? Or was his advice supposed to help me? I cannot figure it out. What should I do? How should I navigate this dark and treacherous forest when it is the big bad wolf that gives me directions?

Callum is still staring out of the window when I arrive. He looks up as I enter, and concern flashes in his eyes.

“Are you okay, Princess?” His expression darkens. “Did Blake upset you?”

“I. . . no. . .” I shake my head. “I’m fine.”

He swallows, then nods—exhaling before turning back to the mountains. “Good.”

“You regret it, don’t you?” I try to sound confident, as if it doesn’t bother me that he’s acting distant after what happened last night, but my voice wavers slightly.

He turns back to me, his eyebrows lifting. His expression softens. He walks toward me, swamping me with his huge frame. I step back, and he steers me to the bed. When the backs of my legs hit the mattress, I sit down.

He crouches down between my legs and places his hands on my hips. His face is more serious than I’ve ever seen it.

“No,” he says. “Never. In another life, in another situation, we’d have spent this morning in bed with me between your thighs.” The corner of his lip lifts as my cheeks flame. “But due to the current situation we’re in, I admit, I’m a wee bit. . . troubled this morning.”

Some of the anxiety building in my chest diminishes, only to be replaced by a greater worry. “So you are worried about the king.”

He sighs. “There is a chance he may not be best pleased about. . . how protective I have become of you.”

Something warms inside my chest at the sincerity in his expression. “You don’t need to tell him.”

“He’ll know.”

“How?”

“My scent is all over you.”

Heat floods my face, and the reason Blake knew something had happened between us becomes evident. A part of me wonders if that is the reason Callum was happy for me to visit Blake in the first place.

“Oh. I should wash, then.”

“Ah, you see, that’s what’s troubling me. I want you to smell like me. I like it. I want every wolf to know, James included.”

I fold my arms. “That doesn’t sound sensible.”

He grins. “Aye, well I never said I was sensible. Besides, there’s no time now for a bath. Not unless you want to go for a swim in the loch.”

He raises his eyebrows, and I smile—remembering how cold the water was when I washed at Glen Marb. From the grin on his face, I think he is remembering it too.

He sighs, his breath misting in front of his face.

“We should go.”

He brushes his lips against my forehead, and my hands reflexively move to chest, my fingers gripping his shirt. He’s so firm and solid beneath it and I want to take comfort in that strength—to take comfort in him. His hands momentarily tighten around my hips.

Heat flares inside me, despite the words he mumbles against my skin. “It’s time to meet the Wolf King.”