Callum’s jaw tightens. “Surely I’m the better choice. Aye?”
My gaze dips down to his crumpled shirt, straining over tensed muscles, then back up to his eyes. They burn into mine and my heart beats a little faster.
The first time I saw Callum, I thought him a monster. He looked like one in that fighting ring, his broad chest bare, his torso as hard as rock.
Yet the true monster that night was sitting beside me. He threatened to take me like a common mutt on our wedding night. He said he’d throw me into the kennels after for Callum to use in the same way.
The thought filled me with fear. But I know now Callum would never have hurt me in that way.
Even though he is a powerful enemy of my people, I cannot deny the truth.
He is the better choice.
I swallow. “That is not the point.”
“No,” says Callum, raising his eyebrows. “The point is, it’ll keep you safe. No one will touch you if they know that you’re mine.”
“People will already know you brought me here. Wearing this is needless.”
“No, Princess, it’s not.” He shakes his head. “Telling people. . . It’s not the same. We may not have noblemen and ladies like you have in the south. But we have rules, and laws, and traditions. Like, if I were to challenge Rob and win, I would take his clan and title.” He nods at the item in my hand. “Wear this, and you won’t be harmed. It’s wolf law. Unbreakable. Inevitable. Just as we are bound to the Moon and must shift when she touches us.”
I note how the red jewel refracts the morning light.
“Would you wear one of these?” I ask.
“Course I wouldn’t. It’s different.”
“Why?”
“Because. . . Because I’m an alpha!”
“And I’m a princess!”
He groans and rubs his face. “You’re impossible. That’s what you are.”
“And you aren’t?”
He folds his big arms across his chest, and I fold mine, taking a step toward him.
“I agreed to come here in exchange for my freedom,” I say. “Belonging to you while I’m here, then being shipped off back to Sebastian when you’re done with me, is hardly freedom, is it? That was our deal. That was my condition.”
A strangled noise escapes his lips. “Don’t you see? This gives you your freedom! You can stay in this room, you can wander around the castle by yourself if you wish.” He points at the window. “You can even go for walks outside. No one will touch you. You’ll be free.”
He steps forward, so that we’re only inches apart, and his scent envelopes me.
“The full moon is getting closer, Princess. We’ve got a wolf inside of us. All of us.” He puts a hand on his chest. “It affects us as it gets closer. It brings out certain. . . instincts. You’re not safe. Not unless you wear this. Not unless people think you’re mine.”
I shake my head. “No. It’s demeaning. I’m not doing it.”
Callum closes his eyes. “Ghealach, give my strength.”
He walks past me, drops the small box on the bed, then walks to the door.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“I’m going to get some breakfast. You can stay here and think about your choices. Wear that, or have me at your side twenty-four seven.” He leans in the doorway, and the corner of his lip quirks. “Unless that’s what you want, Princess?”
“No!” I march toward him. “I’m hungry. I’m coming too.”
He laughs, darkly. “Oh, I don’t think so.”
I put my hand on his stomach in an attempt to push him away, then I still.
His torso is solid, and I can feel the ridges of his muscles through his linen shirt. His body heat sears my fingertips.
I have never touched a man like this before.
My gaze flits up to his. The humor has gone from his eyes—and just for a second, before he blinks a couple of times—I think I see his irises change shape.
I pull away as if I have been burned, and take a big step back.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble—then hate myself for apologizing. Hasn’t he manhandled me enough times since we met?
He looks at me curiously, his expression softening.
“You don’t have to apologize for touching me, Princess.” He raises an eyebrow. “Now, if you want to apologize for being as stubborn as an ox. . . well, that’s a different matter.” He looks at the small box on the bed. “Think about it. I’ll be back shortly when you’ve considered your options.”
And with that, he turns and leaves me alone.
I sigh and go and sit on the bed.
I pick up the small box, and look at the offending item inside once more.
In my lifetime, I have done many things I have not wanted to do to ensure my survival. I didn’t want to marry Sebastian to help my father secure the north, but I was planning to do it regardless. Because I feared what would happen to me if I didn’t.
Putting this on would be the wise thing to do. If Callum is telling the truth, it would allow me to freely walk around the castle and learn about the Wolves. Who else in the Southlands would ever have such an opportunity?
On the other hand, it is degrading. Even if I cast aside what my father would think, I have to consider my future. My people would never respect me if I put this on.
What’s more, Callum got frustrated with me when I refused. I don’t know why, but that satisfied me. He is so big and strong and in control—it makes me wonder what will happen if he loses it. What will happen if I provoke the wolf behind the man?
I drop the box back down onto the mattress beside me. If anything, I’d like to see what Callum does if I offer a little resistance. He deserves it for not bringing me any breakfast.
My stomach grumbles as I continue my exploration of my new chambers.
There are books everywhere. I pick out A Healer’s Encyclopedia, A Collection of Diseases and Ailments, and A Compendium of Poisons from among the titles. One dusty tome in particular catches my eye. Experiments: Book One is handwritten in an almost illegible scrawl across the thick spine.
I open it on a random page.
Wolves Healing Times is written in blotchy letters across the top of the parchment.
Tooclass="underline" Iron knife. Insertion made along Subject Thirteen’s lower torso, one inch deep. Healing time approximately three minutes, significantly faster than when cut with silver. If the blade was poisoned, would the substance linger beneath the skin? Test theory tomorrow.
Goddess! Did the former resident of these chambers write this book? I shudder, yet cannot help but flick to another page.
If I remove a wolf’s organs, will they grow back? is written along the top of the parchment.
Someone knocks on the door, and I look up, startled, dropping the macabre book on my mattress. It lands with a thud, and releases a cloud of dust.
Has Callum realized he was harsh to leave me alone without breakfast? Or is it someone else?
I tiptoe to the door. “Who is it?”
“Can I come in?” The voice is female, and familiar.
Before I respond, Fiona walks into the room, bringing the earthy scent of horses with her. She’s carrying a tray that has a teapot and chipped cup, a bowl of steaming porridge, and a small pot of honey atop it.
“On Callum’s orders.” She brushes aside a stack of papers and sets the tray down on the writing desk. “I’m also under strict orders that I’m not—under any circumstances—to tell you Callum was the one who told me to bring it up to you.”