Page 118 of The Wolf King

A wave of nausea rolls over me. “Come on, Callum.Please.”

Blake brushes me aside and grabs Callum’s hair in his fist. He tips the rest of the liquid into his mouth, clamping his hand over his lips. When he pulls away, the translucent liquid dribbles down Callum’s chin.

Blake sighs, and panic fizzes in my chest.

“Why isn’t it working?” I ask.

Blake stares at Callum and his expression is unreadable.

“If this is how you wish to go, then don’t let me stop you.” He rests his forearms on the mattress and leans closer. “Don’t worry, I’ll look after your pet when you’re gone.”

“Blake,” I warn.

Callum’s eyes flicker open for a moment.

“You know, I haven’t decided how I’ll fuck her first.” Blake’s voice is low and seductive. “With my fingers, or my tongue.”

Callum’s head rolls to the side and he grunts.

The corner of Blake’s lip lifts. “What do you think I should do? There are so many possibilities. Perhaps I’ll have her ride my face.”

Callum growls, but the noise dies in his throat as his back arches up from the mattress.

“Stop it!” I snarl.

Blake leans closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Or perhaps I’ll have her on her knees before me while I sit on James’s throne, my fist in her hair, her lips moving up and down my cock as I fuck her mouth.”

Callum’s eyes jolt open. They are enraged, and they don’t move from Blake’s. He grips the bedsheets.

“I wonder—” continues Blake.

“That’s enough!” I lurch at Blake.

He hooks his arm around my waist, pulls me onto his lap, and slams his lips against mine.

I stiffen. Every muscle hardens as my blood turns to ice. For a moment, time is moving too quickly and too slowly at the same time.

It all floods back—Blake’s mouth crushed against mine, his strong arm holding me to him, the feeling of his thighs tensed beneath me. He’s barely breathing. I don’t think I am either. I jolt away and raise my hand to slap him.

Only, before I make impact with his face, the air is knocked from my lungs.

There’s heat and muscle against my back and my chest as the three of us crash to the ground. The floorboards groan, or perhaps it’s Blake as his head hits the floor. Callum’s growl vibrates against my ear. The scent of male sweat floods my nostrils.

I scramble from between them, my hair in my face, my breathing fast.

Blake gets the upper hand for a moment, and I almost stagger into the copper bathtub as they roll over on the ground. I dart aside, grabbing onto the mahogany bed post, as Callum pins him down and wraps his hands around Blake’s neck.

“There he is,” says Blake, on a choked breath.

Callum’s eyes are feral. All the muscles in his arms are pronounced. Fury ripples from him in waves. It is almost inconceivable that he was lying on the bed, close to death, just a moment ago.

Blake tilts his head to catch my eye. There’s blood dribbling from his nose.

“A little help,” he says through wheezing breaths.

My heartbeat slams against my ribs. My mind isn’t processing what is happening. I feel as if I’ve floated out of my body and I’m watching from far away. Callum was dying and Blake kissed me and now they are fighting. “Why on earth would I help—?”

My gaze snaps back to Callum’s face, and the wolf that is now glaring behind his eyes. The wolf that is fighting both Blakeandthe wolfsbane.

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