Page 104 of The Wolf King

“I don’t feel. . .” he starts, shaking his head. “It’s not. . .”

“It’s okay,” I soothe.

I pad across the cold floorboards toward him, but when he growls, I still.

“Don’t,” he says, and there is power in his command. I freeze, my expression hardening.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

He takes a deep breath. Then he turns to the door.

“What are you doing?” My voice is sharp as it cuts through the shadows.

“I must go.”

I feel like I’m being doused with ice-cold water. I have just shared something with him that I have shared with no man before. Something that is forbidden to me. And now he is just going to leave?

Something inside my chest shatters like glass, sharp and painful.

I swallow, then raise my chin—trying to look like a noble lady even though I’m wearing a nightgown and have just experienced something I shouldn’t have.

“Yes. You must,” I say. “It was inappropriate for you to come here at this hour. I am the princess of the Southlands, and I am betrothed to another man. You have taken too many liberties with me.”

His shoulders tense, and his face falls. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Princess.”

My heart breaks. I want him to fight for me, to tell me that he’s never giving me back to Sebastian.

But I put on my mask, and do not let him see.

His footsteps are hurried as he leaves, as though he cannot get away from me fast enough.

I stare at the closed door, my breathing ragged.

I want to scream. I want to tear through the forest and howl into the wind. Instead, I do what I always do, and swallow it. I swallow the feelings and the hurt and the rage. I let the darkness wrap around me, the shadows dousing the flames in my soul, until I am cold and empty.

Later, as I lie down on my pillows, and recall what happened, something occurs to me.

Callum was scared.

Tomorrow, I will find out why.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

There’s a knock at door, waking me.

How can I face Callum this morning?

I lock away the shame that creeps through my body when I remember how bold I was, when I remember how angry I was when he left. I lock away other feelings too—feelings I do not want to acknowledge. Feelings that heat my blood, and rattle my soul. I push away the strange dreams of Wolves and mountains and monsters in the dark, too.

I take a deep breath. “Come in.”

“Hello, little rabbit.”

My stomach drops and I jolt upright, the sheets dropping to my midriff.

Blake leans in the doorway. He’s wearing dark breeches and a well-fitting black shirt. He looks like a villainous prince from the kinds of stories my mother would tell me. His dark hair, slightly messy like he’s been running his fingers through it, only adds to the effect.

I amnotin the mood for him this morning. “What areyoudoing here?”

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