Page 26 of The Wolf King

There’s a crunch as the alpha steps on a twig beside me, and his warmth wraps around me.

“If you’re cold, Magnus, there’s some whisky in my pack that’ll warm you up,” says the alpha. “I suggest you go and drink it before you and I have a problem.”

His tone is easy, but the sleeves of his shirt strain against the muscles in his arms and his jaw is a hard line.

A hush falls over the camp. The air is tense as if the rest of the Wolves sense that blood might soon be spilt.

But then Magnus cracks a grin. “Hear that, lads? More drink for everyone!” He slaps the alpha’s arm before sauntering off to collect his prize.

The alpha watches him go before sitting down by the tree. When my breathing has steadied, I sit down beside him, my fingers still curled around the rock.

His profile is stern as he watches the others. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t reassure me. I suppose there is no point. He has probably realized the same thing I have.

I am in danger here.

I have made a terrible mistake.

Dread curls in the pit of my stomach as I stare at the group of Wolves. The night becomes darker, and the conversation becomes quieter. Gradually, snores add to the crackle of the fire and the lull of the wind.

Though my eyelids are heavy, and though the alpha sits beside me, I do not dare close them—not even for a moment.

When the last of the Wolves has fallen asleep, the alpha stands.

Up, he mouths, gesturing with his head.

He holds out his hand. I frown, but cautiously, I take it. I wince when the sharp stones dig into my already sore feet. The alpha’s eyebrows dip. He puts a finger over his full lips, then scoops me up again.

This time, I do not protest for fear of waking the others.

He takes me to his horse, tied to a tree a short way from the sleeping pack, and puts me in the saddle before mounting behind me. Before I can ask him what’s going on, we’re riding away from the others.

I look over my shoulder. Only Ryan stirs, but when the alpha pushes his finger to his lips, he nods and settles back down beside Becky.

“Where are we going?” I ask when the camp is a small dot on the other side of the loch.

“We’ll be making the rest of the journey back alone,” he whispers roughly against my cheek. “I won’t have them threatening you.”

“You can’t just tell them to leave me alone?” I say. “I thought you were supposed to be the big bad alpha.”

He lets loose a quiet laugh. “Aye. I suppose I am. But what did you notice about their kilts?”

I think of the different patterns the eight men were wearing—some blue, some green, and only Ryan’s red like the alpha’s. “You’re from different clans,” I say. “You’re nottheiralpha.”

“No, I’m not. And while some respect my status, others... less so.”

“Like Magnus,” I say bitterly.

“Aye,” he agrees darkly. “And if he were to directly challenge me, I couldn’t let it stand. But when I’d killed that despicable prick, it would really damage what we’re trying to do here in bringing the clans together. It’s for the best that we make our own way.” He pauses. “Because I really want to kill that despicable prick.”

Something warms in me at that—though I realize it’s not very ladylike to revel in the idea of someone being killed.

“Where are we going?” I ask, my chest feeling a little looser.

His arm tightens around my waist. “I’m taking you to the Wolf King.”

A spark of panic ignites inside me. Curiosity pulses through me, too. “Whoisthe Wolf King?”

“You’ll see.”

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