Page 92 of The Wolf King

My fingers tremble as I undo the fastenings on the back of my dress. I pull the sleeves down, and let it fall and pool at my feet, leaving me in nothing but a black shift.

Callum’s eyes are wide, and his hand is curled into a fist at his side. The distance between us feels palpable.

He doesn’t move. He is that alpha from the fighting ring again; tense and ready for battle.

I don’t want him to see the faint scars on my back—the ones that the High Priest gave me. So I face him when I take hold of the hem of my shift. His jaw tightens.

“Princess...” he says again, and I’m not sure if it’s a warning or a plea.

I imagine I am back at the palace, and merely undressing for any other bath, and lift it over my head, revealing myself fully to him.

Callum inhales, his mouth slightly parting. He lets loose a shuddery breath.

He keeps his eyes on mine, his jawline hard with determination. There’s defiance in his expression, too. It’s as if he’s fighting something.

But then his gaze drops.

And, Goddess, I feel the weight of it on my body. Though I’m standing close to the fire, my nipples harden. My breasts feel heavier, swollen. And there’s an ache between my legs.

I cannot believe I am doing this. I should grab my shift and cover myself up. Yet I allow his gaze to brand my skin, and I feelpowerful.I like the way his expression changes, his biceps tensing.

The wolf flashes behind Callum’s eyes. He squeezes them shut and curses under his breath.

I step into the copper bathtub. The water is warm and fragrant as I sink down into it, letting it soothe my muscles and wrap around my body until only my head and shoulders are exposed.

Callum looks like he’s in pain. I’ve never seen someone look so tense.

“Well?” I say.

The ghost of a smile plays on his lips. He blinks a few times, and he arches an eyebrow. “Have I told you that people don’t speak to me that way?”

“Several times.”

He huffs a laugh. Shaking his head, he crosses the room. With each step he takes toward me, my heart beats a little faster.

When he reaches the tub, he sinks to his knees, bringing his face close to mine. His warmth and heady scent mingle with the steam.

“You’re sure about this?” he asks.

“It’s not a big deal,” I say, though I feel more daring than I have ever felt in my life.“People bathe me all the time. It’s just a bath.”

His eyes glint as though he can see through my lie.

He drags his teeth over his bottom lip, and for a horrible moment, I think he is going to walk away.

He laughs again, and shakes his head.

He reaches for the bar of soap and the cloth that sit on the tray on the floor, then trails his hand in the water. He doesn’t touch me, but I feel his heat on my torso as though he is. He lathers the soap between his big hands—releasing the scent of soap suds into his bedchambers.

The humor disappears from his eyes. “I can smell him on your face.”

I remember how Blake licked me last night.

I sink beneath the water, and rub my cheeks. When I emerge, Callum’s muscles seem a little less tense.

“Better?” I ask.

“Aye.” He gives me a soft smile. “Much.”

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