Page 76 of The Wolf King

Slowly, he opens his eyes.

My breath catches in my throat. His irises have expanded and changed shape. They’re still green, but brighter, and within them there are flecks of yellow and gold. His pupils are dilated and they’re as black as the depths of the forest at night.

They’re wolf’s eyes.

They are fascinating.

I have heard many stories about Wolves, but they all depict their brutality and lack of mercy when they raid our villages. I didn’t know their eyes could change when they looked like men, nor look so beautiful.

I touch his cheek. The muscles in his forearms flex as his grip on the mattress tightens.

“It happens when you’re emotional?” I ask. “What emotion are you feeling?”

“The same emotion as you, Princess.”

“I’m not feeling anything.”

He smiles, softly. “You might be able to hide your emotions from Southerners, Princess. You forget that I’m a wolf. I can sense things. Your heartbeat... your scent...” He swallows, hard. “It changes.”

My fingers inch down the side of his face, touching his rough stubble. “Don’t smell me.”

He laughs and it sounds like a growl. “I can’t help it.”

“I’m not feeling anything.”

“Okay.”

His eyes don’t move from mine. They are wary and alert, but there’s something almost vulnerable dancing around those flecks of gold.

The air feels thick and heady and strange. Static, almost. And tension coils in my lower stomach.

Despite the chill in the room, I am hot.

I have a male in my chambers after nightfall, even though I am betrothed to another. He’s an alpha of an enemy kingdom. He’s plotting against my father.

I know everything about this is wrong, but when his hands shift on the bedsheets, I want him to place them on my hips.

His gaze dips to my mouth, and I forget how to breathe.

I want to brush my lips against his.

I want to know what it’s like to kiss a man. Would Callum be soft and gentle, or hard and claiming? The latter would have scared me a week ago. Now, it heats my blood.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

When he opens them again, he averts his gaze to the floorboards between our feet. My hand drops to my side.

“It’s getting late.” Callum clears his throat. He stands, and I have to step back. “I should go.”

Disappointment carves a hole in my chest. “I thought you were going to stop my arms and legs from aching.”

He gives me a soft smile. “I think you want me to ease a different ache, Princess. And while, under different circumstances, I’d be happy to oblige, under these circumstances, it wouldn’t be right.”

My cheeks flame. “That’s not... how dare you suggest... I’m the Princess of the Southlands!”

It is strange that even though his eyes look like wolf eyes, I can see the glimmer of amusement in them.

“Nonetheless, I don’t trust myself right now.” He bows his head. “Good night, Princess.”

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