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“The collar, it’s a symbol of dominance. And I don’t like it. When I am with a female, I want it to be because we are equal. I do not want to become my father. I do not want my people to think that is who I am. And I don’t want you to think that’s who I am, Princess.”
His pupils are dilated. His irises are a different shape, and brighter, somehow. They are not Callum’s eyes. They are not the eyes of a man. They have changed. They’re the eyes of a wolf.
“But I saw. . . your eyes.” “Aye.” He lets out a shaky breath. “That happens sometimes. When I get a bit. . . emotional. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” I exhale. “You’re not going to change?” “No. You’re perfectly safe.”
My breath catches in my throat. His irises have expanded and changed shape. They’re still green, but brighter, and within them there are flecks of yellow and gold. His pupils are dilated and they’re as black as the depths of the forest at night. They’re wolf’s eyes. They are fascinating.
He smiles, softly. “You might be able to hide your emotions from Southerners, Princess. You forget that I’m a wolf. I can sense things. Your heartbeat. . . your scent. . .” He swallows, hard. “It changes.” My fingers inch down the side of his face, touching his rough stubble. “Don’t smell me.” He laughs and it sounds like a growl. “I can’t help it.”
Disappointment carves a hole in my chest. “I thought you were going to stop my arms and legs from aching.” He gives me a soft smile. “I think you want me to ease a different ache, Princess. And while, under different circumstances, I’d be happy to oblige, under these circumstances, it wouldn’t be right.”
And then I dream of unfamiliar wolf eyes, watching me, from deep within the forest.
The dark-haired wolf is sitting with one arm slung over his chair, seemingly staring at the tapestries that depict different stages of the moon hanging from the walls.
I feel Blake’s eyes on me, just for a moment, even though I’m staring down at my porridge. My fist tightens around my spoon. “She’s adequate, I suppose,” he replies.
I wonder if he’d be so amused if I slipped some wolfsbane in his tea. Callum puts a hand on my leg, and I start. “I’ll kill him for you, if you like,” he says.
“Does Blake even like the lasses?” “I think so. I’ve heard some screams coming from his room late at night.” “Aye, but they’re not the good kind.” “I’ve heard he has some dark tastes. . . Never wanted to ask.”
“Don’t take it personally,” she says. “As the full moon gets closer, the wolf gets stronger. It brings certain. . . animalistic traits to the surface.” “Like what?” “Like the need to hunt, to kill. . . to fuck.”
Twilight arrives, and my room is painted in grey shadow.
“There’s a ritual on the night of a full moon, out in the forest. We’re all expected to be there to welcome the Moon Goddess. The alphas especially.” She leans back against the writing desk. “Callum’s there already.”
Something dark and ugly twists in my chest. “What do you do at the ritual?” “We drink, and dance, and cut loose.” Her eyes are bright. “Then the moon rises, and we shift.”
He’s facing away from me, so all I can see is a muscular back—a silver web of angry scars crisscrossing his skin. He’s leaning against a desk and he’s breathing hard. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of breeches. “Blake?” I whisper.
“What are you doing here, little rabbit?” His voice sounds strange—as dark and smooth as the night sky outside the window. Slowly, he turns around. He’s covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and a couple of dark strands of hair stick to his forehead. There are scars on his torso, too, but my gaze is held by the strange look on his face.
His nostrils flare. He breathes in then sighs, his head tilting back. The tension in his muscles dissipates. “Fuck it.” When he meets my gaze again, the wolf is in his eyes. A cold smile spreads across his face. “Run,” he says.
SCREAMINGGGGGG
The ghostly glow from the full moon reflects off his damp skin. He stalks toward me. “Run.” His voice is different—low, and raspy. The air is charged. It feels like lightning is about to strike. And then he changes
AHHHHHHHHHH
It only takes a few seconds, but every bone in his body breaks and shifts. And what is left in his place. . . Time stops.
He is as large as a wild bear. His fur is black, making him at one with the shadows. His eyes, amber, glow in the darkness. He bares his teeth and growls. Adrenaline surges through my body, cracking t...
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He is leading me further into the maze, herding me like the dogs on the farms do with the sheep before they are slaughtered. Goddess, help me.
The wolf stalks forward. “Blake. . .” I say, breathless, edging back even as the river crashes behind me. “You don’t want to do this.” I do not want to beg. I do not want to die. “Blake. Please.” He pauses, tilting his head to the side.
“If you hurt me, Callum will kill you.” The way his mouth moves. . . it almost looks like he is grinning. Dread fills me. Perhaps provoking Callum is the whole point. He snarls, and the noise is primal. There is no way to reason with him.
He bites the collar of my cloak and drags me back, turning me over with his paws so I’m forced to look up at him. His eyes glint, a predator pleased he has caught his prey. He licks my face, as if taunting me, his tongue hot and rough and disgusting.
The wolf’s gaze locks onto mine. His eyes are green, with flecks of gold and yellow. “Callum?” I breathe. He growls, his gaze moving back to Blake.
“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.
“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.
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.
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.”
AHHHHHHH
“He chased you to that clearing, far away from the other Wolves that were out last night. He got his scent on you so they wouldn’t smell you. He took part of your cloak with him, so if they caught your scent, they’d chase after him instead.”
“He wasn’t trying to kill you. He was protecting you.” He swallows, hard. “And Blake doesn’t do anything unless it’s within his own interests. So I want to know why.”
Smash
“So if I started prancing around without my clothes on, you’d be perfectly okay with that?” A slow grin spreads across his face. “If you started prancing around with no clothes on, I think I’d like that very much, Princess.” “Brute,” I mutter.
“Look, Princess, like I said, the wolf hasn’t quite settled down,” he says. “And you’re in my bed, with the scent of another male all over you. And I don’t like that. I don’t like that one bit. I want you to smell like me. When another wolf is close, I want it to be my scent they smell on your skin. I want to mark you as mine. And I can think of countless ways I would do it. Countless ill-advised, highly pleasurable ways I would do it. It’s all I can think about. And I know I should leave and calm myself down. But I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here, with you.” He shakes his head. “You
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Smash
“You said I smelt like Blake. I don’t want to smell like him either. Do you want me to wash?” He exhales, then goes back to his pacing. “No. I want to wash you.”
He sounds so sullen that it almost makes me laugh. “Callum!” “What?” His lips are twitching, even though his body is tense. “I thought you liked how inappropriate I am.” I roll my eyes.
“Okay,” I say. “Wash me.”
He opens his mouth, then shuts it again. “What?” His voice is low and gruff as gravel. I raise my chin. “I thought Wolves had superhuman hearing?” He lets loose a half-laugh. “Aye. But you can’t possibly have said what I think you just said.”
The rise and fall of his chest is deeper than usual, as though he’s making a strained effort to control his breathing. His fingers twitch at his side. “You want. . . You want me to wash you?” “That’s what I said.” “You realize you’d have to take off your clothes for me to do that?”
I slide off the bed and Callum tenses as I walk to the bathtub. I’m hyperaware of him tracking my every movement, and it feels good to have so completely captured his attention. It feels powerful
“What’s the matter?” I ask. “You’re going to get me into trouble.” I am enjoying this far too much. “I thought you wanted to wash me.” “Aye.” His eyes darken to the color of the forest at night. “I do.”
“Princess. . .” he says again, and I’m not sure if it’s a warning or a plea.
Callum inhales, his mouth slightly parting. He lets loose a shuddery breath. He keeps his eyes on mine, his jawline hard with determination. There’s defiance in his expression, too. It’s as if he’s fighting something. But then his gaze drops.
The wolf flashes behind Callum’s eyes. He squeezes them shut and curses under his breath.
“Well?” I say. The ghost of a smile plays on his lips. He blinks a few times, and he arches an eyebrow. “Have I told you that people don’t speak to me that way?” “Several times.”
The humor disappears from his eyes. “I can smell him on your face.” I remember how Blake licked me last night. I sink beneath the water, and rub my cheeks. When I emerge, Callum’s muscles seem a little less tense.
Why do I, so badly, want to tease him? “I thought you said you weren’t ever going to touch me,” I say. “I’m not touching you.” His serious eyes follow his hand as it trails back between my breasts. “I’m touching the cloth. And the cloth is touching you.”
The cloth is barely visible beneath it. “I would definitely consider this as you touching me.” He grins. “You’d know if I was really touching you, Princess.”
Ooop
“Rory.” His voice is strained, barely louder than a whisper. He presses his forehead against mine, bringing his lips closer. “You need to tell me to leave. I want to be a better man, but I don’t think I can be.”
The door opens behind us and adrenaline and shame surge through me. “What on earth have I walked in on here?” Blake’s amused drawl comes from the doorway and a look of fury crosses Callum’s face as he jerks back, his shoulders stiffening.
Lmao
