Page 149 of The Wolf King

We eat in silence.

It is as if we both realize we are completely alone for the first time since he took me from Sebastian’s castle.

Something has been growing between us since then. Strong, and pervasive, and passionate. Something we both thought was wrong.

Yet the main reason we have not been fully... intimate... with one another, is not because I wanted to maintain my honor.

It is because Callum believed I was his prisoner.

Surely, he does not feel that way any longer.

He gives me a soft smile. The firelight dances over his strong features. He takes a deep breath, and I think he’s going to say something, but he sighs and takes another bite of bread.

I offer a small smile back, then go back to my food, even though my insides are clenching.

I wish I was not nervous. I wish I could walk over to him and give him what he wants—like those ladies Sebastian would send to the Wolves. Yet I am lost. Overwhelmed. I do not know what to do, nor what he expects from me.

I swallow the last piece of bread, then brush the crumbs off my breeches. I chew my bottom lip, searching for something—anything—to say to break this never-ending silence.

“This is... this is a nice... loch,” I say, looking at the black water.

“Aye. That it is.”

Silence falls once more, punctuated only by the crackling flames. I take a deep breath, smelling woodsmoke and damp earth.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Aye.”

“Last night, when you... when you kissed me... were you angry with me?”

“No.” He smiles sheepishly. “I was jealous.”

I fail to suppress the twitch of my lip.

He leans forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “I’m pleased to see my inner turmoil amuses you, Princess.”

“You don’t need to be jealous because I danced with Blake.”

“Aye, I know. It’s just... seeing you both...” He sighs and shakes his head, running his hand over his mouth.

“What?”

“I don’t know. He looked like a Southlands lord, and you his lady. I didn’t like that. Not one little bit. In the real world... you and I... I’d never stand a chance with you, would I? But him—”

“This is the real world.”

“You know what I mean.” He shakes his head. “And there you go, smiling again.”

“Sorry.” I bite my lip. “It’s just... You’re so strong and confident all the time. I suppose it’s reassuring to know you have irrational thoughts like the rest of us.”

A wide grin spreads across his face. “You think that’s irrational?”

“I suppose we would never have been matched by my father. Youarefrom the Northlands. Although if you had worn those awful breeches of yours, and put on a Southlands accent, I’m sure you could have infiltrated the palace. Once we’d met, I would have liked you, I’m certain of it.”

“Oh aye?”

“Yes.”

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