Page 16 of The Night Prince

Chapter Six

Icross the chambers, and stop inches away from Callum.

He leans against the wall, and I touch his chest and savor the reassuring solidity of him beneath his shirt. He sighs. It’s as if my touch is as reassuring to him as his is to me. Without warning, he slides his hands beneath my thighs and lifts me up. I wrap my legs around his torso.

He carries me to the bed, climbs onto it, and lays me down on the quilt. My head sinks into the feather-soft pillow. He settles over me, and rests his weight on his forearms on either side of my face. He presses his forehead against mine. His skin is hot, almost fevered.

“I was so worried.” His voice is as rough as sand.

I take his face in my hands. “Are you alright?”

“No.”

My eyebrows lift at his admission. It’s obvious he’s struggling with everything that has happened over the past few days, yet I didn’t expect him to admit it. Whenever I saw my father straining beneath the weight of ruling the kingdom, hewould lash out at whoever was closest. Whenever my brother was in a foul mood, he would turn to the bottle.

Again, it strikes me how powerful this man—this wolf—is, to be able to show his emotions with no fear of them being held against him.

I brush my thumb against his jaw, and his stubble scrapes against my skin. “Talk to me.”

“You were in pain, and I was powerless to stop it. James is trying to claim you as his. Fiona is a hostage. And Blake...” He shakes his head, then huffs a soft laugh. “I’m stuck here with Blake of all people, trying to pretend I don’t want to tear him, and the men who work for him, apart. The only good news I’ve had these past days is that James doesn’t have the Heart of the Moon. Blake has a spy in Madadh-Allaidh, who sent word yesterday.”

Even though the Wolves shifted the night that James handed me over to Sebastian, this doesn’t surprise me. The Heart of the Moon is an ancient wolf relic that is said to have been ripped from the Moon Goddess’s chest. It would give the Wolves the power to shift at will, which would be a big advantage in the war between the humans and Wolves.

“I didn’t think that Sebastian would have traded something so important for me,” I say.

“Foolish man,” says Callum.

“It’s strange that you shifted though. At the time, I thought. . .”

Callum’s brow furrows. “What?”

“I prayed to the Moon Goddess,” I say, feeling silly. “I thought, perhaps, she answered.”

Callum smiles softly. “Perhaps she did. She is said to involve herself in the fates of Wolves, at times.” He strokes me cheek, then sighs.

“What is it?” I ask.

“I thought I would feel better when you awoke, yet I find myself feeling... restless.”

I note the tension in his body, and the hardness that presses against my thigh through his kilt. My blood heats, and I stroke his cheek. Being with a man like this is so new to me, yet I cannot deny that I’m restless, too. “Can I help you with that?”

He captures my mouth with his. He makes a low sound in his throat as he deepens his kiss. He slides his tongue against mine—hot and dominant—and heat pools between my thighs. I shift against him. I curl my legs around his waist, pressing myself against his torso. I whimper as a jolt of pleasure surges through me.

He pulls back, trembling slightly, and shuts his eyes. “No. I fear that I’ll push you back into a fever. I’ve felt guilty about it for three days.”

“What do you mean?”

He opens his eyes, and blinks back the wolf. “As Wolves, when we’re... excited... our more feral side tends to come out. When my mouth was between your thighs,” my cheeks flame, but Callum doesn’t seem remotely embarrassed, “I provoked your wolf. You spent the next three days trying to suppress it. If I were to do to you what I want to do...” He shakes his head. “I dread to think how long you will be unconscious. I won’t do that to you again.”

“You think you will give me so much pleasure that you will push me into a fever for days?”

His expression is so remorseful that I have to suppress my smile. “Aye.”

“You certainly think highly of yourself, don’t you?”

A soft laugh escapes from his lips. His eyes crease at the corners, and they brighten—the color of treetops being hit by sunlight. For a moment, he looks younger. Not an alpha with the weight of a clan on his shoulders, about to challenge his brother, but a young male full of mischief and light.

“I don’t recall your complaints the previous times I have tasted you, nor every time I slid my fingers inside of you until you cried out my name.”

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