Page 122 of The Wolf King

“Callum, you didn’t take me prisoner.”

I’m not sure if I’m relieved, or confused, or amused, or heartbroken. It is overwhelming. And yet, for once, I don’t want to push the emotions away. I want to embrace them. I want tofeel.

I shift on the bed, and turn his face toward mine. “I chose to come. And I’m glad that I did. I have never felt more free than when I am with you. And... well...” I take a deep breath. “There’s another thing.”

His eyebrows knit together. “What is it?”

I chew my bottom lip. “I was planning on giving my father information about the Wolves once you had sent me back. I was going to use it to get out of my marriage with Sebastian.”

Callum stills. At some point during our time together, I let myself forget he is a fierce warrior, though it is obvious now from the tightening of his jaw, and the tension he emits. Was I foolish to admit this to him?

He told me before that he would die to save his people.

“Are you still planning to do that?” he asks.

“I don’t want to marry him, Callum.”

“Aye. I know that. But...” He puts his hand on my cheek. “What you’ve just told me. You cannot tell anyone else. If the king finds out... Please tell me you understand that?”

“I’m not a fool.”

Something like relief blooms in his eyes. “No. You’re not.” A soft smile plays on his lips, and he shakes his head. “My wee spy.”

The wordmystokes something inside me.

“You’re not concerned?” I ask.

“It makes no difference to me.” He shrugs. “You’re not going back to him.”

“And, so you see, I was never really a prisoner to begin with.”

He drops his hand, and sighs. “You might think that, Princess, but I disagree.”

“Oh, for the love of the Goddess, Callum! Will you stop being such a big bloody... gentleman!”

He raises his eyebrows, and stills.

His gaze drops down to my body, and the shirt I’m wearing, and something unreadable flickers over his expression. “A spy, not a prisoner, huh?”

When he meets my eyes again, mischief dances amid the darkness.

“I never thought you’d ask me not to be a gentleman, Princess.”

He drags his teeth over his bottom lip, as if considering something. Then he grins. In a sudden movement, he flips me onto my back and climbs on top of me—caging me between his arms. He brings his mouth to my ear, and I shiver as his warm breath touches my skin.

“But I’ll be happy to oblige,” he whispers.

Chapter Forty-Three

My insides tighten.

Callum’s warm breath heats my skin, his lips almost touching my neck.

His shirt has ridden up to my hips, and I can feel the cotton of his breeches against the bare skin of my thighs.

My legs are parted to accommodate him, my core pressed against his hard stomach. When he shifts, my breath catches in my throat as a jolt of need courses through my body.

And the scent of him—Goddess, the scent of him—he smells like heat and male and the mountains.

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