I am not in the mood for him this morning. “What are you doing here?”
I glance at my bedside table, looking for the silver letter opener I brought here. There is only a pile of medical books, an almost burnt-out candle, and Callum’s red tartan collar on its surface.
“Looking for something?” he asks.
He pulls a small cloth package out of his pocket, and unwraps it to reveal my silver blade within. I’d forgotten that I’d thrown it at him during the full moon.
He holds it out to me and it gleams in the cold sunlight.
Warily, I slide out of bed, and pad across the floor toward him. He tracks my movements. When I reach for it, his lips part slightly.
I drop my arm to my side. “Why do you want me to take it so much? What have you done to it?”
“Nothing.”
He seems to study me. He’s tall, and I have to look up. I feel like he’s challenging me, and I don’t want to back down. I cannot help the small burst of interest that sparks inside me, too.
Like Callum, Blake is an alpha. He must be around the same age, too. He has the Southlands accent, and says he worked in the King’s Guard. How did he rise to such a high position among the Wolves?
“Why did you choose to come here, little rabbit?” asks Blake.
“I didn’t. I was kidnapped.”
“Hm.” His eyes gleam, as if he knows I am lying.
He removes the letter opener from the cloth and his skin hisses as the silver touches his skin.
He flips it over so he’s holding the blade, and offers me the hilt.
“I’ve done nothing to it,” he says. “Take it.”
I let him hold it for a moment longer, knowing it is burning his skin. Then I take it. His gaze flits to my hand, my face. Curiosity blazes in his eyes.
His expression settles back to boredom as he walks over to my bookshelf.
“Get out of my chambers,” I say.
He runs his index finger along the dusty spines. “Are you sure they’re your chambers?”
A horrible feeling washes over me. I glance at the piles of medical tomes, the strange pots of herbs, and that dark book of handwritten experiments that I’ve been reading.
I told myself I never wanted to meet the previous inhabitant of this room.
I stare at Blake’s back as he thumbs through the books.
“This was your room, wasn’t it?” I say flatly.
“This is my room. I no longer reside here, but I use it for some of my most interesting possessions.”
I don’t like the way he says that—as if he’s storing me in here, too. “Get out, Blake. Callum won’t be pleased when I tell him about this.”
Blake turns and props an elbow on the bookshelf. “Did he not tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“Callum’s not here.”
I frown. “You’re lying.”
A dimple punctures his cheek. “He rode out this morning. He’s gone to find the Wolf King.”
My insides turn to ice.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Callum has left? After everything that happened between us?
Last night, I betrayed my kingdom when I kissed him.
Despite that, he has ridden out to find the Wolf King—someone who will undoubtedly either execute me or send me straight back to Sebastian. And he didn’t even say goodbye?
Shame spreads through my body. Shame that something that was so monumental to me obviously meant nothing to him. I wonder how many women he must have kissed for that to be the case.
I force my expression to settle into one of indifference.
I will not let this serpent know that his news has rattled me.
“I knew he would be riding out to find his king soon. I just hadn’t realized he had gone yet. If you’re trying to create trouble, you will find none here.”
The corner of Blake’s lip quirks. “Pity, I do enjoy trouble.”
“Why are you here?”
“I’m looking for something.” He slides a blue leather-bound book from the shelf. “Ah, here it is.”
I don’t catch the full title, but I see the word lore in elegant calligraphy across the front, and a dusting of golden stars on the spine.
He tucks it beneath his arm and walks to the door.
“What book is that?” I ask.
He pauses and his shoulders stiffen. He clearly doesn’t want me to know what he’s reading. When he turns around, though, his expression is unrattled.
He nods at the pile of medical books by my bed. “Are you trying to find out if you could have saved her?”
My fist tightens around the silver blade. His voice is casual, as though the death of my mother was meaningless. “That’s none of your concern.”
“What were her symptoms?” When I merely glare at him, he shrugs. “Don’t you want to know whether I could have saved her?”
My breathing is fast. “You couldn’t have. You would have been a child when she died.”
“As would you.”
He waits. I hate that he knows how desperate I am for answers.
“She had cold sweats, fevers, shaking, and pain,” I blurt before I can change my mind about confiding in him. “She would hallucinate sometimes, and heal slowly. She was. . . weak. She got weaker every day.”
“Was she worse in the morning or the evening?”
I remember her frail form in the four-poster bed as sunlight seeped through the palace shutters. “Morning.”
“Was she treated for her illness?”
“Yes.”
“A potion or brew, I presume?”
I nod, remembering that foul-smelling herbal liquid that was forced down her throat. Remembering the taste of it from when they fed it to me when I got sick, too.
“And did your father love your mother?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Answer the question.”
I grit my teeth. “My father doesn’t love anyone.”
Blake shrugs. “That sounds like no disease I know of.” He moves out into the landing and pauses. “Be careful, little rabbit. Fiona has gone too. Isla has been left in charge of your welfare. You’re alone among the Wolves.”
When he’s gone, I walk over to the window with my fist clenched. I’m not sure whether Blake was trying to scare me or provoke me, or both. How dare he try to bait me with questions about my mother? Regardless, I cannot believe Callum has left me alone.
Mist hangs over the loch and twists around the peaks of the mountains. The vastness of the landscape makes me feel small.
I wonder how long Callum will be gone for. I want to give him a piece of my mind.
But I dread his return, too.
Because when he comes back, the Wolf King will be with him.
***
For the next couple of days, I’m glad to have my job in the kitchens. It distracts me, and stops my thoughts from becoming too dark.
Callum thinks wearing his collar will keep me safe, but it seems that without him here in the castle, the hostility aimed at me is palpable.
When I head to the kitchens in the mornings, Magnus and his rat-faced friend shout lewd comments as they pass on their way to training. While picking herbs in the kitchen gardens one afternoon, Isla whispers something behind her hand to her friend and snickers as she swans by. And only Mrs. McDonald and Kayleigh speak to me—everyone else merely eyes me with contempt. They do not want a human in their midst.