Page 145 of The Wolf King

“I don’t want to go to bed.”

A muscle feathers in his jaw. “You’re going to bed. And you’ll stay there until I return.”

“You’re angry with me,” I say as he carries me up the winding staircase to my chambers.

“No.” He doesn’t look at me.

He pushes the door open, then drops me ungracefully on my bed.

“Callum!”

The wolf is in his eyes. He looks like a bloodthirsty warrior. Then he blinks and releases a long breath.

“No.” He shakes his head, suddenly looking weary. “No. I’m not angry with you, Princess.”

I do not believe him. I wonder if it’s because I danced with Blake, or whether something worse is going on. I push myself upright. “What did Fiona want?”

“I’ll tell you shortly.” He runs a hand over his mouth. “I need to go check on something. Stay here.”

Before I can respond, he walks out of the room, closing the door behind him. I hear Ryan grumbling on the other side.

“Oi. That woman in there saved your life. Twice,” Callum growls. “You can go back to smooching with your girlfriend later. But now, you’ll stop being an insolent pup and you’ll do as I say.”

“Sorry,” mutters Ryan.

“Aye. I know. Now, no one goes in, and the princess doesn’t come out. Understood?”

“I can hardly stop her if—”

“You’ll find a way.” Callum sounds uncharacteristically brittle. “I trust you, okay? Don’t let me down.”

“No.” I hear the sudden pride in Ryan’s voice. “I won’t.”

***

I wake with a start.

There’s a hand over my mouth. I struggle with my covers, my legs tangled in my skirts. A face comes into focus in the darkness, and my pulse steadies.

Callum crouches on the floorboards beside my bed.

He puts a finger on his lips, before pulling his palm away.

“Get dressed,” he whispers, nodding at a pile of clothes he’s placed by my feet. “And put on your boots.”

My breathing quickens at the note of urgency in his voice. I cannot help but think of the first time he took me from my chambers. He told me to get dressed, then. I refused to do anything he said.

This time, I comply.

I hurry out of bed, my mind fuzzy from the whisky. My pulse kicks up when I see it is brown breeches and a white shirt that he has selected for me.

I have never worn breeches before. It would be improper. I have always worn pretty dresses.

I swallow. Then I turn, allowing Callum to untie the fastenings of my dress and undo my corset. His gaze burns into my back and he tenses. I suppose with his wolf sight, he can see my scars in the darkness.

I hurriedly pull on my new clothes and boots. When I turn, his jawline is hard. He fastens my cloak around my neck.

“What’s going on?” I whisper.

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