Page 184 of The Wolf King

My footsteps echo as I walk toward it.

Eyes glint in the darkness.

There is something down there, and it snarls.

“There you are,” whispers Blake.

My gaze latches onto his. The sky is vast behind him. The wind ruffles his hair.

More.

Blake hisses through his teeth, and his body shudders. I feel him trying to retreat, and I hook my arm around his neck and pull him down. He makes a low sound in his throat, his muscles tensing beneath my fingers.

“That’s enough.” Callum’s panicked voice sounds far away.

Blake presses his forehead against mine. The wolf is in his eyes.

“That’s enough!”

Blake is ripped away from me. I exhale, and my breath twists into the Northlands sky. I am soft. Weightless. I tip my head back into the grass. I feel weak, but whole. Blood no longer pumps out of my body. The pain has faded. I touch my side with a heavy hand, and it’s sore but there is no wound.

Callum’s face crashes into focus.

“Callum?” I whisper.

“I’m here.” He smiles softly, and a tear rolls down his muddy cheek. “I’m here. You’re going to be okay.”

He scoops me into his arms, and holds me against his chest. I sigh again, his warmth cocooning me.

I’m going to be okay.

“My castle’s a few miles from here.” Blake’s voice sounds odd. He clears his throat. “We’ll go there.”

Callum looks over my shoulder, and nods. His gaze drops, and his expression darkens. “Get a hold of yourself.”

Blake’s expression hardens.

“Fuck off, Callum.” He stalks across the shadowy landscape. “You’ve got no fucking idea...” His voice is swallowed by the wind.

Callum exhales, then pulls me closer.

“Let’s get you somewhere warm,” he says, before heading after Blake. “You’re safe now.”

Chapter Fifty-Nine

I’m warm. Comfortable. There is something soft beneath me. I smell woodsmoke and books.

Male voices drift into my consciousness, but I keep my eyes shut, savoring the safety that cocoons me.

“How did you get away from my brother, anyway?” Callum’s voice is quiet, as if he doesn’t want to wake me.

“I’ve been ingesting small doses of wolfsbane for years,” says Blake—nonchalant. “If a wolf takes a bite out of me, it ends worse for them.”

Callum chuckles. “You’re a diabolical wee shite, you know that?”

A smoky wave of amusement washes through me, though I’m not sure where it originates from. It is strange, I suppose, hearing them talk to one another almost as though they are friends.

“So they say,” says Blake.

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