Page 63 of The Wolf King

“No,” she says. “We think something’s happened to them. Callum’s sent a party out to find them. He wants to go too, he’s worried about the lad—”

“Ryan?”

“Aye. But. . . well. . .”

I put down my fork, frowning. “Why won’t he go?”

She turns her head and arches her eyebrow pointedly.

“Oh,” I say quietly, my appetite waning. “Because of me.”

***

The next morning, I wake up early and watch the sun rise over the loch.

When I’m finally traded back to my people, I’m determined to be of more value to my father than a prize to be given to Sebastian. If I can prove that, I will be free on my own terms. And if wearing the collar will allow me to do that, I should do so.

It will allow me to explore this castle, and find out its secrets. I’m doing this forme,not for Callum.

Before I can think too much about it, I open the box, pick up the collar, and fasten it around my neck.

It’s restrictive—a reminder that I am allowing myself to belong to yet another man. Or at least for it to look that way. The jewel is cool against my skin, and I feel its weight—heavy and prominent—just as I’m sure I will feel the weight of this choice in the days to come.

Feeling a little light-headed, I sit down on the edge of the mattress, and clasp my hands together.

It’s not long before there’s a heavy knock at the door. My heart jumps into my throat as I stand up.

“Come in,” I say.

When Callum enters, his gaze instantly dips to my neck. His jaw tightens.

“If I wear this, I can keep my own room and wander, unsupervised, through the castle,” I say.

He runs a hand over his mouth. “Aye.” His voice is a little rough.

“Okay,” I say.

He sucks in a deep breath. “Okay. But if you wear that in public, there are things that will be expected of you. Things that will reflect badly on me, if you take no heed of them.” His eyes are serious—verging on stern—as they bore into mine. “So, we need to go over some ground rules.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Ground rules?” I narrow my eyes.

Callum sighs, then nods at the bed. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

“I’d prefer to stand.”

He huffs out a laugh. “This is the first rule—if I ask you to do something, I need you to do it.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m an alpha. And it’s expected.”

“So alphas are so fragile they cannot bear to be challenged on anything?” I cock my head to the side. “I think you are a lot more similar to Southlands lords than you realize.”

A soft grunt of displeasure scrapes against his throat as he folds his big arms. I have to stop myself from staring at the way his biceps strain against his sleeves. I have to suppress my smile, too. Why is it so satisfying to get a rise out of him?

“No,” he mumbles. “It’s not like that.”

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