Page 100 of The Wolf King

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. Youdospeak 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.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Istep back, giving Callum access to my chambers.

He closes the door softly behind him, and turns to face me.

The scent of the outdoors clings to him and his hair is ruffled and damp. I wonder if he’s been in the loch, even though the night is pitch black outside my window.

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