Текст книги "The wolf king"
Автор книги: Lauren Palphreyman
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Текущая страница: 20 (всего у книги 23 страниц)
Chapter Fifty-Three
Drip. Drip. Drip.
I’m cold. There’s something hard beneath me. The air smells like mildew. Somewhere, something is dripping.
“You should bathe her before you present her to him. She smells strongly of the Highfell wolf.” A deep, unfamiliar male voice rumbles through my fuzzy mind and makes my muscles harden.
“He’s territorial. It works in our favor.” This voice is familiar. Bored. A dark, smooth caress on my senses.
I force my eyes open, but I remain perfectly still. I do not know what is happening. I do not know where I am. I’m like a rabbit in a trap, trying to avoid attention from predators.
I calm my pulse and take stock of my surroundings.
I’m lying on a cot in the corner of a small, dank dungeon cell. The stone walls are wet, and the air is thick. We’re underground, I presume. Through the bars, two men lean against the opposite wall, torchlight dancing over their features as they talk.
One, I have never seen before. He is tall and broad-shouldered. His dreadlocks are tied back from his face to reveal bright brown eyes and a chiseled jaw. He is not dressed like a wolf. He wears black leather breeches and a white shirt, sleeves rolled up to expose tattoos inked on his dark skin.
The other is Blake. His dark clothes make him look at one with the shadows.
A jolt of hate surges through me—so powerful I almost cry out. The worst thing is, I feel betrayed. I shouldn’t. I should have known Blake would turn on me. How naïve I have been.
I try to calm my breathing, afraid they will turn their attention to me.
I need to think. I need to get out of here.
“The Highfell wolf is secure, by the way,” says the man.
My pulse accelerates. Callum.
“Good.” Blake adjusts his cuffs. “Did he cause you any trouble?”
“A little. We handled it. He may cause you some trouble when all this is through, though.”
“I imagine so. And what news from the continent?”
“My men looked. Couldn’t find him.”
“And the Snowlands?”
“Cold. Dark. They fear the night that spreads.”
“Hm. Interesting.”
“Is it?”
Blake shrugs. “Depends on your interests, I suppose.”
“We have an eavesdropper, by the way.”
My heart stills as I squeeze my eyes shut.
“Oh yes, I know,” replies Blake. “She’s been awake for a couple of minutes now.”
My blood runs cold and I grit my teeth, trying not to shudder.
“I’ll leave you to it,” says the man. “See you back at the castle once this is all through?”
“Yes. Be careful with him, Jack. I need him alive.”
“Right. I’ll do my best.”
There’s the sound of a door opening and shutting. Jack’s footsteps fade into nothing.
For a moment, the air is thick with silence.
“There’s no use pretending to be asleep, little rabbit.” Blake’s voice is like silk. “I can hear your heartbeat.”
He walks to the barred wall of my cell, his footsteps echoing in the cavernous dark. I open my eyes to glare at him.
“Where’s Callum?” My voice is hoarse. I’m not sure if it’s the aftermath of whatever Blake drugged me with, or from screaming in the forest.
“The rabbit wakes up in a cage, and her first thought is of the wolf who captured her.” He clucks his tongue, eyes dancing in the firelight.
“You are my captor, you idiotic man.”
A dimple punctures his cheek. “I suppose I am. Callum is not here, but he is safe. You will be too, if you play along.”
I push myself upright. My head pounds, and I put a hand on my forehead, wincing. Feeling Blake assessing my weakness, I quickly force my arms to my sides, and slide my legs off the cot. I straighten my back.
“Play along with what?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
If I felt stronger, I would strangle him through the bars. Blake smirks as though he knows it. It stokes a fire within me so fierce I fear I will combust. If it weren’t for the bitingly cold air, perhaps I would.
“My orders are to take you to the Wolf King, now you are awake,” he says.
I calm my breathing. I need to be smart. I need to find out where I am, and what his intentions are with me, if I am to escape.
I swallow. “Where are we?”
“An abandoned manor house, close to the Borderlands.”
My stomach drops. “Is Sebastian coming for me?”
“Yes.”
The temperature in the cell seems to drop even further. “You truly are a snake, you know.”
“Oh, come now. It’s not so bad. I could have been worse to you.”
“You drugged me! You captured Callum! You let us go, then you came after us anyway! You locked me in a cell, and now you’re handing me back to Sebastian! You. . . You acted as if you were helping me and forfeited my life anyway! How could you possibly have been worse?”
I trusted you, I don’t say. But the words spread through my body like poison.
He leans against the bars, dangling his arms in the gaps between. His gaze lazily travels to some handcuffs hanging from the ceiling in the center of the cell. “I could have bound you in chains.”
A feral sound escapes my throat and Blake laughs.
“You’re not even a snake,” I spit. “You’re a coward. I know why you’re doing this, you know? You’re not as mysterious as you like to think.”
“Oh, no? Pray, tell me—why am I doing this?” His eyes glint in the darkness.
“You weren’t born into the Kingdom of Wolves, were you? That must be lonely, to be a wolf, but be born among men. How hard it must have been for you. And how pathetic, for you to want so desperately to belong to them that you lie, and scheme, and play with people’s lives. Though I suppose handing me to James will gain you the favor you desire.”
Blake clucks his tongue. The gesture is almost teasing, but something cold flickers across his face.
“Come now, you’re smarter than that. Do you truly think I want to belong to the Wolves? My father was a wolf, and I killed him.” He steps back, unbuttons his sleeve, and rolls it up to reveal the jagged white scar on his forearm. “A wolf bit me and activated this curse, and I killed him too. And the wolf gene that has always been a part of me. . . well. . . it condemned me to the darkness from the moment I was born.”
He smiles coolly. “No, darling, I do not want to belong to the Wolves. I want to rule them.”
Darkness emanates from him, twisting with the shadows. For a moment, words evade me.
Then I laugh, shaking my head. “You wish to be the Wolf King?”
“Is that truly so amusing?”
“Amusing? No. Deranged, perhaps.”
“Perhaps.” He shrugs, pulling his sleeve back down, seemingly unaffected by my derision. “Perhaps not.”
“What if I tell James what you’ve just told me?”
“You won’t.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because if something were to happen to me, what do you think would become of Callum?” He fastens the silver button on his cuff. “What will become of you?”
My soul hardens. Every bone in my body turns to ice. My muscles stiffen, and my fingers dig into the thin mattress that sits on the cot.
Blake pulls a key from the pocket of his breeches, and turns it in the lock. The door screeches open.
He holds out his arm for me to take. “Come. James is expecting us.”
My laugh sounds bitter and twisted. “Why on earth would I come with you?”
“Play along with my game, and you might survive. You may even avoid being sent back to the Southlands.”
I grit my teeth. “How does giving me to James help you to get what you want?”
He gestures with his head. “Come and find out.”
When I make no sign of movement, he exhales. His breath plumes in front of his face.
“When I present you to the king, you will be presented with a choice,” he says. “Choose correctly, and you will be safe. You have my word.”
“Your word means very little to me, Blake.”
He shrugs. “Of course, I could come in there and throw you over my shoulder. I could carry you kicking and screaming to the Wolf King. Is that truly how you wish to present yourself to him when so much is at stake?”
He holds out his hand. I glare at it, then him.
I know he is serious. If he came into this cell, I could hit him and try to run free. But I felt the strength in his body when we danced. I recall Callum telling me that Blake is stronger, more competent, than he seems. Perhaps it would give me some satisfaction, to inflict even the smallest bit of damage onto this snake. But he will win, in the end. And then what?
No. I will not fight him. Not yet. I will bide my time. I will be smart. I will find out what the Wolf King has to say.
Perhaps I can make my own bargain. Perhaps I can play my own game.
I take a deep breath and I rise. I brush some mud from my breeches, watching as it scatters across the stone floor. My legs are shaking, but I raise my head as I cross the cell, ignoring Blake’s outstretched arm.
“I hate you,” I tell him through gritted teeth as I walk past him into the gloomy corridor.
“Oh, darling, I know.” The door to the cell swings shut, and he falls into step beside me.
We walk up some stone steps. They’re damp and they glisten in the torchlight. At the top, Blake unlocks another door, then leads me down a tired walkway, the walls lined with fading portraits. There’s a murmur of voices in one of the rooms that we pass, and I wonder how many men James has brought with him. If there are not too many, perhaps I can escape them.
I shiver, wishing I had my cloak as we head up a stairway and toward a door at the end of the landing.
Blake taps his knuckles against it, and my stomach clenches when he pushes it open. He stands back to let me enter first.
I’m hit first by a wave of warmth from the fire in the hearth. We appear to be in some kind of drawing room. There is a worn rug on the floorboards, a writing desk by one wall, and a few battered leather armchairs collected around the fireplace. James sits in one of them.
His presence seems to fill the entire room.
It is not just his size, it is the power that radiates from his eyes when they land on mine.
His brown shoulder-length hair is wild, and he is dressed in his red kilt, slightly different to Callum’s. The sleeves of his cream shirt are rolled up to his elbows and I notice one of the tattoos on his forearms is a flower—a contrast to his otherwise hard demeanor.
I grit my teeth, and hold my head high. I won’t cower before him.
He scratches his jaw, then smiles. “Take a seat.”
I sit in the armchair opposite him. Blake crosses the room and leans by the wall beside the window.
“I apologize for how I got you here, Princess.” I flinch at him calling me that—even though it is my title. It is what Callum calls me, and it sounds wrong coming from his mouth. “You shouldn’t have run from me.”
I do not reply. What does he expect me to say?
“I have sent word to Sebastian. He is on his way.”
“He won’t give you the Heart of the Moon, you know?” I say.
James runs a hand over his mouth. “No. I doubt he will.”
I try to remain calm, even though I feel as if there’s a tornado in my chest. “So what is the point in all this? Why give me back to him? Why betray your brother?”
His eyebrows raise. “You think I’m the one betraying my brother? He turned his back on his people when he stole you from me.”
“I am not an object to be stolen. And you haven’t answered my question.”
He shifts back in his armchair, the leather squeaking beneath him.
“I don’t give a shit about the Heart of the Moon. Men win wars, not goddess-blessed relics. If Sebastian brings it, then great. If not, no harm done. What I care about is Sebastian. I want to hurt him. I can use you to do that.”
I wish he could not hear my pulse as I stiffen. “You’re going to hurt me?”
“Did Callum tell you what happened to our mother?” asks James.
“He said she ran away.”
“Aye. She did. I never had the heart to tell him what happened next.”
Despite the blazing heat coming from the fire, my blood runs cold. “What?”
“Sebastian got her. I do not know what she endured in the weeks before, but I know what happened on the night of the full moon. My father received confirmation a few days after when a fur coat arrived on our doorstep.”
A wave of nausea rolls through me so strongly that I grip the arms of the chair. I know that Sebastian is a monster, but finding out that he tortured Callum’s mother is almost too much to bear. What’s more, James knew this, and let Callum travel to King’s City to look for her anyway.
“You never told Callum.” My voice is quiet, almost inaudible.
“I wanted to spare the lad.” He grits his teeth, his jaw hardening.
I wonder if he really believes this, or whether keeping this information from Callum was part of his ploy to keep hold of the throne.
“I have done more for him than he will ever appreciate,” says James. “And this is how he repays me? By taking you away?”
My pulse accelerates. “Sebastian does not care about me, you know? If you hurt me, it will mean nothing to him.”
He stares at me long and hard.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. So here is where I offer you a choice. The first option is that we go ahead with the trade. Sebastian will come for you, and I will give you to him. He will bring his men, and I will bring mine. And when he gives me whatever piece-of-shit rock he thinks I’m going to believe is the Heart of the Moon, and when I’ve handed you over, war will break out. I will do whatever it takes to kill him. And perhaps he’ll get away with you, or perhaps you’ll get caught in the crossfire. Either way, I do not think your chances of survival are very high.”
“So, what is the other option?”
“The other option is that I take something from him. Something that will humiliate him. Something that will send a message to all of the Southlands.” He leans forward in chair, resting his elbow on the arm. “You’re a bonny lass, Aurora. And it’s about time I found myself a queen. The other option is you marry me.”
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Chapter Fifty-Four
It is like I am underwater. The room swims around me. The fire in the hearth, the battered armchairs, and James’s face pulse in and out of focus.
He wants me to marry him?
Fire erupts from the pits of my soul. It surges through my body and spills out of my mouth before I can even weigh up my options.
“No,” I say.
My pulse calms. The edges of the wooden fireplace, the pattern of the sun on the worn rug, the tattered leather beneath my fingertips, all come back into focus.
James shifts and the chair squeaks beneath his large frame. His jaw hardens, just like Callum’s does when he is displeased.
“No?” he says.
“No.”
Blake watches from the window and there’s a calculated look of disinterest on his face.
“I offer my protection, and the most coveted position for a woman among the Kingdom of Wolves, and you turn me down?” James’s voice is soft, but there’s a note of anger rippling through it.
“You offer me protection from a danger of your own devising! You know that Callum and I are. . .” I trail off, not sure how to end that sentence.
“You and Callum are what? Married? No. Does your union with him offer any political advantage? No. You’ve gone off and lived your wee fantasy for a while, but it’s time to come back to the real world now, Aurora. Blake told me you were smart. Do not disappoint me.”
I grit my teeth, trying to swallow the rising storm. Of course Blake had something to do with this.
I glare at James. “Callum is your brother.”
And I think that I am falling in love with him.
“Aye. And he needs to come back and live in the real world, too.” He shakes his head, his brown hair brushing his broad shoulders. “Callum cannot offer you anything. I am the king, and I am offering to make you my queen. Do not be a fool, Aurora.”
My breathing is fast. Waves of venom ripple through me, tainted by fear. I am like a cornered viper, a wall behind my back and a cage in front of me. This cannot be my fate. I cannot have escaped one marriage, only to be forced into another.
“What do you think Sebastian will do to you when he realizes my brother has had you first?” says James. “It doesn’t please me, either. I am willing to overlook it.”
My pulse accelerates again. Not only at the thought of what Sebastian might do to me, but also at the thought of what James will expect from his wife if I were to accept his offer. If I marry him, I will have to submit my body to him too.
No. I will not do it.
“I will not marry you. Not now. Not ever.”
James’s face darkens. “I am the Wolf King.”
“You are the Wolf King because Callum allowed you to be.”
A flash of pain bursts into my cheek and my head is snapped to the side as James backhands me. My mouth fills with the metallic taste of blood, which sprays across the rug. Cold adrenaline floods my body. The backs of my eyes burn.
I blink hard.
I force my gaze back to James, my cheek burning and strands of hair hanging in front of my eyes. “I will never marry you.”
He’s settling back in his chair, his face like stone.
Over his shoulder, I notice Blake watching. His expression is nonchalant. Bored, even. I catch a flash of darkness behind his eyes. When he sees me looking, he leans back against the window ledge and moves his gaze to the mountains outside.
I feel another burst of hatred so strong that I fear I will combust.
James whistles, and the door opens behind me.
“Put the princess back in her cell,” he says to the two men who enter the room. “And make sure she is not comfortable. She needs some time to reconsider her choice, and to be reminded of my mercy.”
My arms are grabbed, and I am pulled to my feet.
“I have made my choice,” I hiss, the taste of blood strong. “I will never choose you.”
James’s gaze moves back to me. “You have until sundown. At which point, I will either ride with you to a chapel just north of here, or I will ride with you to meet with Sebastian. Don’t be a fool.”
He clicks his fingers in dismissal, turning his gaze to the roaring fire. I struggle against the men to no avail as I’m dragged out into the corridor.
“Blake,” says James. “Make sure she makes the right choice. Do whatever is necessary.”
“As you wish, Your Majesty.” Blake’s voice is smooth and calm amid the chaos.
He bows before following us out of the room.
***
My hands are bound above my head. The metal handcuffs that hang from the ceiling bite into my wrists. I’m forced to balance on my tiptoes and the muscles in my arms are screaming.
I’m shivering violently. The damp air seeps through my shirt, and into my bones. Only my cheek is warm, burning, where James hit me. My shaky breaths plume in front of my face, and I stare longingly at the flaming torch through the bars of my cell.
I do not know how long I’ve been here—alone in the darkness. My stomach growls. It feels like hours since I last ate.
Blake was supposed to make me change my mind, but he did not follow us down into the cell when they strung me up here. That snake has yet to make an appearance. I presume he thinks by leaving me here, in pain and in a place devoid of hope, I will change my mind on my own.
The burst of anger that provokes gives me something tangible to hold on to.
I do not think my story will end happily. Not any longer. But it will end on my own terms. I won’t be forced into this marriage. I will not bed James.
James will take me to the front line to hand me to Sebastian. And when war breaks out, I will run.
I would rather take my chances. I would rather run wild and free with the wind in my hair, and the grass beneath my feet, than spend tonight as the wife of the brother of the male I think I am in love with. Even if it ends in bloodshed.
And I will not go back to Sebastian.
Footsteps echo in the darkness. I jerk my head upright as Blake walks to the cell door. He’s carrying a small flask. His dark clothing is pristine, but his hair is messy like it was the night of the storm. I wonder if he’s stressed for some reason. Perhaps he doesn’t want to torture me on James’s behalf.
“Hello, little rabbit.”
My insides harden. I am trapped, vulnerable. Yet I do not want him to see any weakness from me. I turn my head away from him, careful to keep my balance. “I have made my choice.”
I keep the corner of my eye on him, though. It is unwise to look away from a predator.
He opens the door to my cell and walks inside.
“Are you afraid?” he asks.
“No,” I lie.
He leans back against the barred wall, slipping his arms through the gaps. The air in the cell feels thick, unbreathable. His presence fills the small space, somehow. He tilts his head to the side, the movement almost catlike, as he watches me.
My arms ache. I wobble, off-balance, under his scrutiny.
“Quite the mess you’ve gotten yourself into,” he says.
“You got me into this mess. Not me.”
“I disagree.”
He takes a sip from his flask, and my eyes snap to his throat as he swallows—suddenly aware of how bone-dry my mouth is. He puts the stopper back in, then threads his arm back through the bars of the cell.
“The way I see it,” he says, “you could be bathing right now in front of a warm fire. You could have eaten a hearty meal. You could be putting on a pretty dress, and preparing to ride north. Yet here you are.”
He looks around the dank cell with distaste.
“Bound and chained. Vulnerable. Defenseless.” He makes a tsking sound. “That was your choice, was it not?” His expression darkens. “I’ve been ordered to make you change your mind.”
Cold dread spreads through my body.
I recall the hand-drawn diagrams I found in Blake’s medicine books, and the depictions of torture that seemed like they came from experience. His eyes were cold when he told me what he’d done to his father. The Wolves in this kingdom all seem to fear him.
“What are you going to do to me?” I ask—my voice sounds small. I wish it didn’t.
The corner of his mouth lifts. “Darling, I’m not going to torture you. You have nothing I need. I’m merely going to implore you to see reason.”
I relax slightly, but the tension in the room is thick. “I won’t marry him.”
“Why not?”
“I will not be a pawn in another game between men.”
“You wouldn’t be a pawn. You’d be a queen. Is she not the most powerful piece on the board?” His voice is a gentle, seductive caress—as dark as the night sky.
“How does this help you get what you want?”
“Who says that it helps me?” He cocks his head to the side. “Listen, I know what you’re thinking. You think that during the fight that breaks out, you’ll be able to slip away. You won’t. Have you ever seen the front line of a battle? It is not a place many trained warriors walk away from. Let alone little rabbits who have strayed far from their burrows. Even if you do manage to break free, James or Sebastian will kill you. You smell of wolf.” Blake’s nose curls. “Sebastian will not let you live for that. And James would gladly kill you to take something from Sebastian.”
He has an ulterior motive, I remind myself. I cannot trust anything he says. “You’re telling me this to help me, are you? You don’t need me to marry James? The marriage was your idea, was it not?”
He shrugs. “Yes. That was my idea. But whether or not you accept him matters little to me. My game is already in motion.”
“What is your game?”
“Play with me, and find out.”
I calm my breathing, wondering if I can implore him to listen to reason. “If it doesn’t matter to you, why not let me go?”
Blake laughs. “I’m not your knight in shining armor, Aurora. I am not here to rescue you. I have given you a way out. It’s your choice whether or not you take it.”
“A way out? You will have me. . . submit myself, my body and soul, to a man I do not want?”
A muscle feathers in his jaw, though his posture remains relaxed against the barred wall of the cell. “He will not harm you.”
“Like he didn’t harm me upstairs, just hours ago?”
Blake’s eyes move to my cheek. “I didn’t relish that, believe it or not.”
“I don’t believe a word you say. Has anything you’ve told me actually been true?”
“I deceive, often. But I rarely lie. I can recall being untruthful to you only once.”
“When?”
He shifts, crossing his ankles as he leans further back. The torchlight on the wall outside the cell flickers across his features. He seems pensive.
“When we first met, I said I recognized you from the palace. I didn’t. I hadn’t seen you before in my life. I was only in the King’s Guard for a couple of years, and I didn’t spend much time in the palace. Though I knew from stories that your mother had red hair.” He shrugs. “Your identity was an educated guess.”
My eyebrows lift. Of all the things he’d said to me that could have been lies, this was the least expected. Partially because I thought he looked familiar when I first set eyes upon him.
“Accept James’s offer,” he says. “You may not believe me, but I would rather you survive this.”
“I will find my own way to survive.”
“Very well.” He looks at me curiously. “I really wasn’t sure which way this would go, you know? I didn’t know whether you’d accept his proposal or not. Usually I can figure people out, but not you. On the one hand, you’re smart. You’ve endured a lot, and you know how to survive. Yet you’re also mind-numbingly stubborn, proud, and ill-tempered. It has made the outcome of all this harder to predict.”
I narrow my eyes. “I’m so sorry to disappoint.”
“Oh, darling, I’m not disappointed.” He removes the stopped of his flask, and takes another sip. I swallow, my throat aching. “Thirsty?”
“No.”
He walks toward me, and my muscles harden as he stops inches away from me.
“Don’t be stubborn.” He brings the flask to my lips. “Here.”
I jerk my head away, wobbling on my tiptoes. I try to get purchase on the chains above my handcuffs, regaining my balance.
“Come, now, what are you—”
I grab the chains and lift my body. I kick wildly at Blake. A surprised laugh escapes his lips as he grabs my legs. I swing and grapple with him. Ice-cold water from his flask spills down both of our chests.
“Stop it!” Blake dodges my foot. “What are you doing? I’m trying to help you!”
The muscles in my arms are taut and screaming. My fingers curl around the chains, even as the handcuffs bite into my skin. I jerk against him, determined to land a kick on him at least once. Preferably between his legs.
He drops the flask as I rear up again, and he grabs me. His fingers tighten beneath my thighs, and he jerks me toward him. My core slams against his hard torso, and my legs wrap around his waist. The laughter dies from his expression.
His face is inches from mine. We’re breathing fast. His muscles are taut.
The air in the cell is thick and silent.
And an emotion stronger and uglier than hate surges through my body. It is consuming. Unbearable. Dark and powerful and unfamiliar. I want to tear inside of myself and rip it out.
Blake’s jaw hardens. There is no humor, no amusement, in his eyes. Only darkness.
He smells like night, like the most dangerous part of the forest, like dark forbidden places. His warm breath mingles with mine.
His gaze dips to my mouth and he swallows.
“If you kiss me, I will bite off your tongue,” I whisper.
He staggers back, dropping my legs, and I grip onto the chains to keep my balance. Something like horror or disgust twists across his face.
Without another word, he turns on his heel. He locks the cell door, then disappears out of the dungeons. He doesn’t give me a backward glance.
My shirt is now soaking and I shiver violently. My heartbeat rages. The memory of his grip lingers on my thighs.
I hate him.
I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.
It’s all I can think about for hours. My hatred is so strong that it dulls the pain. It stops my body from completely sagging, and keeps me from freezing. And it urges me to survive this, to beat him. I start to form a plan that might get me out of this mess.
When one of the men who brought me down here earlier walks to the cell door, I lift my head to meet his cold stare.
I will not die tonight.
“It’s sundown,” he says. “I’m to take you to the Wolf King. He awaits your decision.”
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