Then he turns.
My heart stills.
Get up. My pulse screams. Get up.
I force my nerves to calm in the way I would when facing my father or the High Priest back at the palace.
Whatever hunting instinct Callum has within him, I do not want to provoke it.
“Callum,” I say softly, warily. “It’s okay. It’s me.”
I don’t know whether the male I have come to know is in there.
All I know are the stories I have been told of Wolves. Stories of monsters who hunt and kill without reason or mercy. They destroy villages, and feast on flesh. There are even ghost towns in the Northlands, discovered by our armies, filled with nothing but bones.
The wolf standing before me is capable of all of those things, I’m sure.
The murals on the walls of the Palace show the Wolves as scrawny, and ghoul like—with dull fur, and frothing mouths, and unintelligent feral black eyes.
Callum looks nothing like that. He is majestic. The way he carries himself is tall and proud. And his eyes shine with intelligence.
He prowls toward me. The moonlight sifts through the branches overhead, and reflects off his glossy coat. I edge back, though the river crashes against the rocks close behind.
“Callum,” I whisper. “You won’t hurt me.”
And then he is standing over me, close enough that I can feel waves of his body heat.
He stares at me—perfectly still. It’s like he’s trying to tell me something. He lowers his head, sinking into a bow. And I realize what he is telling me. I am safe. He won’t hurt me.
Relief crashes over me and mingles with a strange, burning curiosity.
Tentatively, I raise a hand. When he doesn’t move, I touch the side of his face, my trembling fingers sinking into thick fur.
He tenses and I stiffen.
The forest seems to hold its breath again. The leaves whisper.
Fool. Fool. Fool.
He nudges my hand with his head and I exhale—my breath pluming in front of my face.
I’m not sure what happens next. Will he let me go back to the castle? I try to push myself to my feet.
He nudges me back down. Before I can protest, he lies across my lap. His weight is even greater than Blake’s and his heat sears me through my dress.
“Goddess,” I gasp. “Callum. . . get off me, you big oaf. . .”
When I push him, he snaps at the air close to my hand.
“Callum!”
He rests his chin on the carpet of leaves.
“What are you doing? You’d better not be—” He closes his eyes. “Don’t you dare go to sleep!”
He opens one lazy eye. And—even in his wolf form—I catch the glint of amusement.
And the stupid bloody brute closes his eyes again.
I try to wriggle out from beneath him, but I cannot move. It’s as if there’s a boulder trapping me. A big, warm, breathing, snoring, stupid wolf-shaped boulder.
I push him a couple more times, but he doesn’t even stir.
I cry out, exasperated, as I realize it’s no use.
“You are just as infuriating as a wolf as you are as a man!”
I lie back, and stare up at the slithers of moonlight through the branches of the trees. A breathy sound comes out of him that sounds almost like a laugh.
Around us, the leaves whisper and thick hedges rustle and the darkness creeps. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howls.
And yet, somehow, despite everything that has just happened, I know I am safe.
***
I open my eyes to grey sunlight seeping through the branches overhead.
I groan. My back aches, and my eyelids are heavy. There’s a dull throb in my temple and one of my arms is ice-cold. My mouth is bone-dry. The sound of water is tantalizingly close behind me, and small droplets of it splash my forehead as it rushes over the rocks.
I try to move to it, but I can’t. I’m trapped. I cannot move my legs.
I glance down, and breathe in sharply.
Callum is curled over my lap, and he is no longer in wolf form.
His head is resting on my stomach, one big arm slung protectively over my body. He’s facing away from me, his muscular shoulders rising and falling in time with his steady breathing.
And he’s completely naked.
Goddess!
I stare up at the branches and steady my breathing—fighting the flush in my cheeks. Quietly, I push myself onto my elbows and look again.
My eyes trace the bulge of his biceps, then the broadness of his shoulders. An urge to touch him flares inside me.
Tentatively, I raise one hand, and hover it above his back. His body heat sears my fingertips as I move closer.
He stirs, making a soft, gruff sound at the back of his throat. Hurriedly, I lie back down again, pinning my hands to my sides.
He pushes himself up onto his forearms.
“Morning, Princess,” he says.
He shifts so that his face hovers above mine. He keeps one arm over my body, cocooning me within his large frame. I keep my gaze on his, aware that if I look down, I will see a lot more than his back and shoulders.
“Had yourself a wee adventure last night, did you?”
Tension I didn’t even realize was building loosens. I thought he might be angry with me for not staying in my chambers. Especially as he’s been so stand-offish with me over the past week. Yet he seems relaxed. Amused, even.
“Why aren’t you annoyed?” I narrow my eyes.
He looks at me curiously. “Why would I be?”
“I didn’t do what you told me to do.”
“If you always did as you were told, we would never have met. Plus, I’m presuming you had your reasons for leaving your room, and you weren’t just out for a nighttime stroll?”
“Someone sounded like they were in pain. I thought it was Ryan.”
He smiles, brimming with warmth. “There you go, then. I would have done the same.”
“It was Blake.”
He exhales. “Aye. I thought as much.”
He sits up. The muscles in his back ripple as he stretches. He cracks his neck, then stands and rolls his shoulders. I’m not sure he even notices he’s not wearing anything.
When he turns back around, my gaze drops. I cannot help it.
My eyes widen and I jerk my head back again to stare at the trees.
The only naked men I have ever seen are the statues in the palace gardens.
Callum chuckles. “What are you doing? Come on, we need to get back.”
Face flaming, I roll onto my side so I’m not looking at him, and push myself to my feet. I wince. Every muscle in my body is stiff and aching.
When I turn to face Callum, my gaze accidentally drops once more before I resolutely look away.
“Come on,” he says, amused.
His warmth washes over me as he steps closer and scoops me into his arms. I hook my wrists around his neck as if it’s a reflex, but irritation sparks inside me. It’s annoying enough that he thinks he can manhandle me whenever he pleases. It’s even worse he thinks it’s appropriate even when he’s completely naked. “I’m perfectly capable of walking by myself!”
“Aye, I know.” The corner of his lip twitches as he heads back through the trees. “I reckoned if I carried you, you’d have to stop staring at my cock.”
I make a strangled sound, then punch him in the arm. I may as well be hitting a rock. “You’re horrible!”
He laughs. “You’re the one who can’t stop looking.”
I glare at him, and his expression softens.
“You’ve had a rough night, Princess. Are you okay?”
“Yes.” I swallow. “Can you remember what happens when you’re in wolf form?”