The Wolf King: A Fantasy Romance
The Wolf King: Chapter 55

I am taken to a room on the ground floor of the manor.

It is dark and sparsely furnished. In one corner, there is a bucket filled with water. A white dress is draped over one of the tattered armchairs.

The hearth is unlit and the air is stale and bitingly cold.

“You’re to bathe, then dress,” says my guard. His voice is gruff and devoid of warmth.

He has a dark beard, severe eyes, and wears the same green kilt that Robert and Magnus wear.

I swallow, calming my racing pulse.

I will get out of this. I will survive.

I survived my mother’s illness, and the beatings from the High Priest. I came with Callum to the Northlands in search of my freedom.

I will replace it.

But I must pick my moment. I must play this game, and accept my role in it. Until the opportune moment comes for me to make a move.

I nod. “Very well. Wait outside, please.”

“Bathe. Now.”

Does he really expect me to undress in front of him?

“Are you aware of the choice your king has presented to me?” I ask.

“Aye.”

I remember what Blake said to his friend when I awoke in the cell.

He’s territorial. It works in our favor. Was he talking about James?

“Then you know he has offered me a betrothal.” I raise my chin. “Do you think he will be pleased to replace out you have watched his potential future wife undress?”

He clenches his jaw and glares at me. “You have five minutes. And if I can smell the Highfell Wolf on you when I come back, I’ll bathe you again myself.”

He turns on his heel and walks out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

I release a breath and it plumes in front of me in the darkness.

I rub my sore and aching wrists. The skin is red and raw from the handcuffs.

Untangling the ball of nerves in the pit of my stomach, I scour my surroundings for anything that might be of use. The room is decaying and barren. There is no poker by the fire, no weapons in sight. One of the armchairs is covered with a tattered sheet. There’s a layer of dust on the floorboards.

I walk to the window.

Even if it were not fastened shut with bars across it, I would not be able to escape through it.

Outside, against a backdrop of shadowy mountains, Wolves are gathering with their horses. There must be about one hundred of them. Their voices seep through the thin glass, low and excitable. Men preparing for war.

The night sky above them is lit by the moon. Although not full, it is brighter than usual. It is as if the Moon Goddess herself has come forth to watch the events of this evening unfold. It is a good job she is locked away in Night’s prison, because surely her favor would fall upon the Wolf King—not the princess of a kingdom that worships the Sun.

I turn away from the freedom that taunts me, and walk to the bucket in the corner. I strip off my damp shirt and breeches.

The water is ice-cold, but the anger burning in my soul keeps me from shuddering as I lather up the soap and wash myself. As I do, I’m aware that I’m washing away all trace of Callum’s touch. It fills me with a profound sadness.

How could only a day have passed since I was in his arms, thinking we could be free together? How could I have been so naïve to think I would have a happy ending?

I recall Blake’s touch as we grappled in the cell, his grip on my thighs, his mouth close to mine.

I scrub myself harder.

When I’m clean, I shiver as I pat myself dry with the towel by the bucket. I pull on the dress that has been laid out for me.

My muscles harden as I realize it is the long-sleeved white dress I was going to wear to meet the Wolf King for the first time. The one Blake said made me look like a doll. Did he bring this here for me to wear?

It serves both of James’s purposes, I suppose. It is the right color for a wedding gown, should I accept his proposal. But it also signals an innocence I no longer possess, should he need to sell me back to Sebastian.

I take a deep breath, and taste dust and decay on the air. I smooth down the front of the dress, then run my fingers through my tangled red hair. I straighten my posture.

I know what I must do.

The door opens, and the guard returns. He reaches for me, but I step back.

“I will not run,” I say, meeting his hard glare. “I am ready to meet with your king.”

He nods. “Fine.”

He leads me out of the room.

We exit the manor through a cold entrance hall, and step out onto the grounds outside where the Wolves are gathering. The wind whips my hair, and ruffles my dress, yet I am not cold. I am too fired up with adrenaline for that.

We weave through the crowd. Swords and daggers glint in the moonlight. My boots sink into the mud. The air smells like horses and male sweat, sweetened by the heather that grows in the surrounding mountains.

A little way ahead of them stands James with a large white horse. Its mane is the color of moonlight. He’s looking away from his men, up at the sky.

Not far from him, I spot Blake.

He’s dressed all in black, and stands still among the chaos. The wind ruffles his dark hair. His expression is unreadable.

A flash of anger surges through me. I walk to him, and tilt my head.

There is no smirk on his lips. He emanates darkness.

“You will get what is coming to you, Blake.” My breath plumes, twisting in the air between us. “Everything that you have, everything that you are, is built on lies and pretense and falsehoods. One day, you will make a wrong move, and it will all crumble around you. One day, you will be your own undoing. I only wish I could be there to see you fall.”

He brushes past me and weaves through the crowd toward the manor without so much as a word.

A tornado of rage whirls inside my chest. That is the last interaction we are to have? Does he not have anything to say to me? Is he even coming with us?

“Keep going.” The guard pushes me, and I stumble forward toward the Wolf King.

James turns.

All thoughts of Blake dissipate. I gather myself, and stare at the more pressing threat before me. He’s dressed for battle with a sword and a dagger on his belt. He’s an imposing figure, standing in front of a backdrop of shadowy mountains with the wind stirring his shoulder-length hair.

He arches an eyebrow. “Well?”

I brace myself. “I have not changed my mind. I will not marry you. But I have another option—”

“No. If you will not accept my gracious offer, there is only one other option available.” Before I can step back, he scoops me up and hoists me onto the horse.

Panic fizzes inside my chest. “Listen—”

“Quiet.” His voice is hard and commanding as he mounts behind me. He hooks an arm around my waist, and my skin crawls.

“Get off me!” I elbow him in the side.

“No.” He jerks me closer.

He looks over his shoulder.

“Prepare yourselves, lads,” he shouts—and silence falls among the Wolves behind us.

Even I still.

“For centuries, they’ve stolen our lands,” growls James. “They’ve slaughtered our brothers. They’ve taken our women. How many of us have lost someone to that Borderlands cunt, Sebastian? He is in our grasp tonight. His woman is in my grasp tonight.”

Some of the Wolves jeer and my muscles stiffen.

“And tonight, we take what is ours by right. Brothers, look up at the sky. Look at how the Moon shines for us. Look at how Ghealach lights our way and bestows her favor. It is a sign the Borderlands will fall. It is a sign the humans will bleed, and the Kingdom of Wolves will be triumphant. So join me, brothers. Tonight, we take back what is ours! Tonight, we ride to war!” A grin spreads across his face. “Let’s go kill some Southerners, shall we?”

Cheers resound through the night, sending chills down my spine.

James jerks the reins of the horse.

Then we’re riding through the darkness, the thunder of hooves filling the air.

***

Do not struggle. Gain his trust. Propose your plan.

I repeat the words like a mantra as I grip onto the saddle so tightly my knuckles turn white.

The moon shines bright. It bathes the landscape in a ghostly glow as it blurs past us—lighting up peaks and lochs and wild swaying grass. The streams that flow down the mountains look like molten silver. They remind me of chains and shackles.

I saw this landscape as freedom once. Now it taunts me with what could have been.

I’m running out of time.

“I can help you,” I say.

“Quiet.” His voice is harsh.

His arm is tight around my waist. His hold is not gentle and protective like Callum’s. It is hard and unrelenting. It is the hold of a jailer. A monster. A king.

“I know what you want, and I am offering—”

“I offered you the world, and you threw it in my face. There’ll be no more discussion on the matter.”

“Are you truly so stubborn?”

“Are you?” he bites back.

The hint of frustration in his tone gives me hope. There must be something behind his hard demeanor.

“I know your enemy better than you do,” I implore. “Will you truly not listen to what I have to say? By sunrise, there will not be another chance.”

He doesn’t ask me to voice my offer, but he doesn’t shut me up, either.

“No one needs to die,” I say.

“Sebastian needs to die.”

“I have no love for Sebastian. I did not want to marry him. I left the Borderlands with Callum to escape him. And I like him even less now I know what he did to your mother.”

A growl builds low in his chest.

“Yes. He should die. But your men do not need to die,” I say. “You don’t need to die. And neither do I. Take me to Sebastian as planned. Hold back your men. Let me go with him. Give me a weapon. Something small. I can get close to him without his guard being raised. If you wish him dead, then I shall kill him myself. You will send some men to retrieve me when it is done, and you will bring me back to Callum.”

He lets out a throaty, bitter laugh. “Even if I believed you had it in you to kill him—which I don’t—why should I deprive myself of the pleasure of doing it myself?”

“Because lives will be lost if you choose to attack. The lives of your men.”

He swallows, and I wonder if he is considering it. But then his grip on the reins tightens. “I will not squander this opportunity. I will be killing Sebastian this night. That’s the end of the discussion. You’re lucky I do not execute you myself.”

“I love him,” I say, softly. “I cannot marry you, because I love Callum.”

The admission surprises me as it escapes my lips. It is as if it were trapped somewhere deep within my soul. And as it gains freedom, wisping away with a plume of my breath, some of the weight bearing down on my chest lifts.

It is true, I realize. I love him.

I may not know much about love. I may have guarded my heart and kept my emotions locked within me for many years now. But somehow Callum got inside me, and made me feel free. And somewhere along the way, I fell in love with him.

I may never see him again. I may die tonight.

But I die knowing that truth, and knowing the taste of freedom it gave me.

In the distance, there are dots of light puncturing the shadows.

Sebastian’s men.

My heart sinks.

James pulls the reins abruptly, and the horse halts. I inhale sharply, wondering why we’ve stopped.

He whistles, then dismounts and strides over to someone who is on horseback. My eyebrows raise when I realize it is a female soldier. She hands something to him, a strap of some kind, and he walks back toward me.

“Off the horse,” he says.

Pulse racing, I slide down. My legs are shaky when my feet hit the earth.

The rest of his men linger on the grassy land behind, waiting for their king’s orders to ride onward.

James pulls a knife out of his belt, and I step away—my back hitting the horse’s body. The sharp blade glints in the moonlight with the same dangerous intent that glitters in his eyes.

His jaw is clenched, and every muscle in his body is taut as he steps toward me.

He looks angry. Furious. A monster of a man.

A king of Wolves.

My breathing quickens.

He crouches by my feet, pressing one knee into the muddy earth. He hoists up my skirt.

Cold terror seeps through my bones, freezing me in place even though my mind is screaming at me to run, to fight, to do anything but stand here—letting him do whatever he wants with me.

He slips a holster around my thigh and tightens it, before sliding in the knife. The cold weight of it presses against my skin. He releases me, letting the fabric of my skirt cover me once more.

His eyes snap up to mine. They’re the same shape as Callum’s but darker, and sterner.

“I do this for my brother, not for you. At least I can say I gave you a chance. My men will still attack. If by some means Sebastian gets away with you, if you kill him, I will allow you back into my kingdom.”

I swallow, then nod. A small knife is not much against an army. But it is better than nothing. And if I get the chance, I will gladly sink it into Sebastian’s heart.

“Thank you,” I say.

He inclines his head, then rises to his full height. “Back on the horse.”

He hoists me up, then mounts behind me.

We ride onward.

***

It is not long before we stop at the edge of the valley.

The moon bathes the land below in white light, washing the color from the grass, and turning the heather silver. Up here, we are concealed by tall trees that spill down the mountainside—enveloped by shadows and the scent of pine.

I spot torchlight in the valley below. Borderlands men await.

James sends one of his men down there to check Sebastian is among them, and to confirm they have the Heart of the Moon—fake or otherwise.

“How do you know they won’t just slaughter you when you ride down?” I say.

“Because I know Sebastian. And I have the daughter of their king.”

“I think you overestimate my value.”

“Let’s hope not.” His voice is curt—almost a warning—and signals the end of our conversation.

The rider comes back ten minutes later, and nods at James before re-joining the army.

Nerves twist in my stomach.

“What if he’s brought the real Heart of the Moon with him?” I ask.

I hear the menacing smile in James’s voice. “Then we shift, and it will turn out to be a very quick battle indeed.”

He looks over his shoulder at his men.

“I want ten of you to ride down with me for the exchange. The rest, wait on my signal.”

“What’s the signal?” calls a male from within the trees.

“Southern screams,” says James.

The soldiers laugh and jeer.

“Let’s get you back to your betrothed, shall we?” says James.

He digs his heels into the horse and my stomach drops.

We descend into the valley where Sebastian awaits.