Chapter 11: The Wolf King: Chapter 11

I take my time washing myself.

For the first time in my life, I relieve myself behind a tree.

I spend a few minutes drinking in the view, too—standing on the shore and watching my breath plume in front of my face as the sun slowly rises above the loch.

Back in the castle at the King’s City, I only ever saw the sunrise through my murky bolted window. The servants would already be bustling through the courtyard below, and the ladies-in-waiting would be fussing around me.

I can’t remember a time when I have been in the presence of such vast, unending silence.

I breathe in. Then out.

Small waves lap the pebbles by my feet.

By the time I make my way back up the rocks, at least fifteen minutes must have passed, and I’m shivering.

The bottom of my nightdress is sodden, and strands of my hair stick to my wet face. I feel better though. Fresher. The cold seems to have shocked some of the dread right out of me.

Callum, to my surprise, has relit the fire even though he was in a hurry for us to set off. He sits in front of it with his thick forearms resting on his raised knees. He seems totally at ease, eating a piece of bread.

He’d said he was going to come into the water after me. I’m about to ask him what kind of alpha makes false threats, when he lazily turns his head.

He looks me up and down, seemingly taking in the gooseflesh on my exposed ankles, and the chattering of my teeth. He smirks.

The point he is making couldn’t be clearer.

I didn’t listen to him, and now I’m suffering for it.

“Cold, Princess?”

“If you were a gentleman—”

“Not a gentleman.” He grins. “Wolf.”

I shiver, and I’m not sure if it’s the temperature, or the look in his eyes. “You’re a sadist, that’s what you are.”

My stomach growls, and he pats the ground beside him. I hesitate for a moment before sitting. He breaks off half of his piece of bread, and passes it to me.

It’s stale and hard, but it eases the pang in my stomach.

“I thought we were in a hurry,” I say when I’m finished.

He shrugs, leaning back on his hands. “The king can wait.”

“You would leave your king waiting?”

I am nervous enough about this meeting without us showing up late. Does Callum not realize that his king may instantly realize I am of no value?

He shrugs, and my insides twist.

When he looks at me, his face softens. “I told you, I won’t let anyone harm you.”

My jaw clenches, and I stare into the flames. “If your king decides to execute me, there’s not a lot you can do, Callum.”

“Look at me, Princess.” His tone is dark and commanding and it stirs something inside me. “I don’t break my promises.”

I look away, and rub my cold feet. “How does one become the Wolf King, anyway? I thought you had alphas, not kings.”

He tears off a chunk of his bread and chews.

“We do. The alphas lead their clans. And the king is the alpha of the alphas, I suppose.” He swallows his mouthful. “It hasn’t been easy, getting the alphas to fall into line. Not all have, not yet, anyway. We’re not known for submitting to others. But we were losing this war with your people. Something had to be done. We had to unite behind someone.”

I clasp my hands together tightly. I got a taste of the violence of Wolves at the dog fight and the siege. Whoever has got these men—this man—to submit to him must be frightening indeed.

“What is he like?” I ask.

Callum shrugs. “He’s alright, I suppose.” His tone is warm, and that, more than anything, eases the panic a little.

I’ve always thought myself to be a good judge of people, and despite his lack of decorum, I do not think Callum is a bad man. I do not think he would support someone who was.

Although, sometimes good men can be deceived.

“I thought you didn’t feel the cold,” I say, noting how close his legs are to the fire.

“I don’t. But the warmth still feels nice.”

“Why don’t you feel the cold?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Why do you ask questions as though they’re accusations?” When I merely glare at him, he shrugs. “It’s my wolf blood.”

He pops the last chunk of bread into his mouth, and I watch as he chews then swallows. I can’t help but remember what he said earlier.

“Do you. . . do you really eat people?”

His eyes widen. He looks me up and down, and I feel naked under his scrutiny.

“As much as I’d enjoy feasting on you, Princess, I will refrain,” he says.

I get the impression he’s telling a joke. “Okay. Well. . . good.”

He grins as he gets up. “We should go.”

He holds out one of his big hands. I take it and let him pull me to my feet. He pours the remaining water in the flask over the fire, dowsing the flames, before stamping on it a few times. We walk to the horse, which is tethered by a fir tree.

“Wait there a moment,” he says, before heading down to the loch to refill the flask.

The sun has risen now, and the sky is a bright morning shade of blue. The mountains around us are unspoiled and there are different shades of green everywhere. To our left, the sun glints off the surface of the loch. The air smells like pine and woodsmoke; it’s so different to the dirty smells of the city. I breathe it in deeply.

“You’re allowed to be impressed, Princess,” says Callum gently as he comes up behind me.

“It’s. . . beautiful,” I admit.

“Aye,” he says softly. “It is.”

When I turn to face him, he’s looking at me.

He averts his gaze. “Come on,” he says, his voice a little rough.

He hoists me up on the horse, then mounts behind me.

Soon, we’re back on the road, and on our way to the castle.