Page 30 of The Wolf King

There’s a copse of fir trees nearby, so while he’s fussing with the horse, I select some dry twigs and branches, and a flint rock. By the time he returns with a flask, I’m sitting and warming my hands by a small fire. The crackle of flames adds to the sound of the wind and the water.

He looks at me curiously.

“I didn’t think you’d know how to do that,” he says.

I tuck my knees beneath my chin, basking in the heat that washes over my face. “Do you know a lot about princesses, wolf?”

“It seems not.” He sits down beside me, and nods at the flames. “Did your father teach you?”

He sounds skeptical, and he’s right to be. The only thing my father taught me was how to act like a lady so that he could parade me around in front of suitors.

“My mother.” I chew my bottom lip. I’m unused to people asking me questions about myself, and it feels strange. “She was from the Snowlands, originally.”

“Ah, well, I hear it’s pretty cold over there.”

“Yes.” I pull the cloak closer around me. “The clue is in the name.”

The alpha laughs, a soft, surprised sound. “Aye. That it is.” He hands me his flask. “If you won’t let me tend to it, at least clean your cut. I don’t want to have to take you to the healer when we get to the castle.”

I pick up on the darkness in his tone. “You don’t like healers?” I wash the blood off my sole. There’s barely a scratch there and I’ve always healed quickly. It should be fine in a couple of days.

“This particular healer is an obnoxious prick who I’d rather we avoid.”

The shadows curl around us, and my breath mists in front of my face. I nod at his pack. “Shouldn’t you be putting up the tent?”

“The tent?”

“I thought we were staying until morning. Where am I going to sleep?”

A slow smile spreads across his face. “You can check for a four-poster bed in there if you like, Princess. But I’m pretty sure I forgot to pack it.”

“You want me to sleep on the floor?”

“Aye.”

“Where are you going to sleep?”

His eyebrows dip in confusion, before he nods at the ground.

“You’re going to lie down beside me as if you were... as if you were myhusband?”

“Well... not exactly like that, no.” There’s a wicked glint in his eye and I flush. “Now, behave yourself and lie down. You’ll catch your death of cold if I move away.” He lies on his back, clasping his hands behind his head. “I know, it’s scandalous. I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

When he winks, I huff and lie on my side, turning away from him.

The grass is surprisingly soft. I’m not sure if it’s because the mountains block the wind, or if it’s the alpha’s strange body heat—but some of the stiffness in my body eases.

“What is your name?” I ask, suddenly.

“Callum.” His voice is soft, and lilts slightly, as though he’s surprised I asked.

“Callum?”

“Aye.” He sounds amused. “Is there something wrong with my name?”

“No... I...” I glance at him over my shoulder. I take in his hard jaw covered in stubble, his wild hair, and his large biceps, bulging against his sleeves. “I expected you to have a more... brutish name. The name Callum makes me think of a mischievous young boy.”

He chuckles. “Believe it or not, I was a mischievous wee lad once.” His eyes glint playfully in the firelight and I can almost imagine it.

---