Chapter Ten
I ’m numb. An icy wave of adrenaline crashes through me. Everyone stares at me, and their faces blur. My shoulder is hot and wet, and it throbs in time with my elevated heartbeat. It takes a moment to process what just happened, what’s still happening.
James stands in the center of the stone circle. His men point muskets at us.
Blake just claimed me as his. His lips are stained red with my blood.
The wolf blazes in Callum’s eyes.
Violence radiates from every ridge of his body. The wind howls around him and makes his kilt flap against his thighs. His chest rises and falls deeply, but his expression is stony. It’s as if he’s battling the beast that rages inside him. Or perhaps he is deciding who to unleash it upon. He has turned his back on James. His full attention is consumed by Blake.
James smiles wickedly. “I suppose the matter of which alpha Aurora belongs to is settled then.” James gestures that his men lower their weapons. “We’ll respect wolf law and leave peacefully. No blood will be spilled tonight.”
James’s voice is amused. He doesn’t seem concerned to be leaving without me, and I’m filled with dread as I wonder if he wanted this to happen. Callum and Blake make a powerful, but fragile, alliance. Even though Callum has told me he doesn’t like the dominant, alpha side of himself, he’s protective of me. Blake biting me, hurting me, and claiming me as part of his clan could be enough to ruin their alliance.
James walks away. His steps are slow and unworried, as if he knows he has nothing to fear from us. His arrogance stirs the storm inside me, and I realize I’m shaking from anger, not shock. Anger at James, anger at Blake, anger at two males who bit me without my permission and think they have some form of ownership over me because of it.
On the other side of the circle, Lochlan leans against one of the jagged rocks, arms folded across his chest, eyes glinting with intrigue. From his expression, the alpha of Glas-Cladach could be watching a theatrical performance. James inclines his head as he passes.
“I’m surprised to see you here, Lochlan,” says James. “Your father would turn in his grave.”
Lochlan smiles. “As I was the one who put him there, that does not mean much to me.”
James releases a low chuckle. He nods at another male in yellow tartan with messy blond hair. “Ian, isn’t it? Have you heard from your brother lately? He was captured as part of the attack on Fort Dubh-Clach, wasn’t he?”
Ian’s face hardens. “What do you know of it?”
James shrugs. “I’ve heard he’s in the Borderlands dungeons, prisoner of their new lord. Did you know he’s offered to return any wolf prisoners to us in exchange for Aurora?” My blood stills. Ian’s face pales, and he brings his attention to me.
“I’m not the enemy,” continues James. He joins his men at the edge of the circle before turning. “Kneel before me, Brother. Apologize. I’ll pardon your treason and exile you to Highfell. Aurora will be used as I see fit in the real war against the south, but you have my word, I will not harm her.” His gaze slides to Blake, who smirks beside me. “Blake will be executed, of course—something you cannot deny will give you satisfaction. Do this, and we can put all this behind us. Refuse, and you will learn what it’s like to have me as your foe.”
Callum stands preternaturally still. His shoulders are taut beneath his coat, and his fists are clenched at his sides. “I’ll see you soon, Brother.” His voice is almost a growl.
James swallows, then walks away. His men follow. Silence stretches across the summit, and it feels as if everyone is holding their breath until they disappear from view.
A long breath escapes me. The relief that he is gone is short-lived. I feel Blake’s attention on me, and something wild in my chest rears its head.
I do not belong to anyone.
I am Princess Aurora of the Southlands.
Blake had no right.
I spin around. His exasperation pulses in my chest, flickers across his face. I slap him. His head snaps to the side, and the sound of the impact echoes off the stones. A murmur travels around the circle, as if his clan can’t believe I hit him. Jack turns his chuckle into a cough by the whisky barrel, while Arran shakes his head.
Callum strides across the clearing. He bunches Blake’s collar into his fist, and slams him into the nearest rock. He curls his hands around his neck and squeezes.
The air supply is cut off from my lungs. I stagger back, clawing at the invisible fingers around my neck.
“ Callum ,” I croak. “ Callum. Stop .”
Callum inhales sharply, as if he’s only now remembering the connection. The pressure eases as he pulls back. He’s breathing quickly. A muscle flickers in his temple. He clenches his jaw, then brings his mouth to Blake’s ear. “When the time comes, I’ll enjoy killing you.”
Blake only drags his teeth over his bottom lip, my blood tainting it like burgundy wine. His expression is bored, even if his cheeks are flushed and his dark hair is messy.
Callum shoves, then releases, him. He strides toward me and scoops me into his arms. Without a backward glance, he crosses the circle and walks away from the gathered Wolves. Agitated conversation fills the darkness.
“I’m quite capable of walking by myself,” I hiss, my cheeks flaming. I don’t know what the Wolves must think of me, but getting bitten then carried away was not the first impression I hoped for.
“I cannot let you go right now. Please do not ask it of me.”
Callum begins the decline toward Lowfell Castle, the angular stone building small from such a height.
“At least we’ve established that James definitely doesn’t have the Heart of the Moon.” Blake’s smooth voice follows us, and he sounds completely unaffected by what happened.
“Indeed,” says Lochlan. “Why bring muskets, if you can use your teeth?”
Their voices fade into the night. Callum doesn’t speak again as he carries me down the mountain, through the torchlit courtyard, and into Lowfell Castle. He takes me straight to our chambers. The fire is almost out, and embers glow in the hearth. He sets me down in front of one of the armchairs. His hands are on me again instantly, running up and down my arms, before cupping my face. His eyes are wild when his gaze drops to my shoulder.
“Are you hurt?” His voice is as gruff as gravel.
I shake my head. “It’s just a bite.” It’s not, though, and we both know it. It’s an assault on my freedom, and an insult to a territorial alpha who considers me to be his.
A low sound escapes him. “He shouldn’t have done that.”
“No.” My jaw clenches. “He shouldn’t have.”
He touches my throat. “Did I hurt you?”
“I’m alright.”
“Can I see?” he asks.
I nod. He unties my cloak and drops it to the floor. I turn and move my hair aside so he can undo the fastenings of my dress. I flinch, knowing he can see the scars that brand my back, but when I face him, his eyes are on the bloodstained fabric on my shoulder.
Gently, he pushes my sleeves down my arms, until my dress bunches at my waist. Cold air brushes my bare skin. I feel exposed, but he’s not looking at my breasts.
Blood is smeared across my shoulder, oozing from the teeth marks that puncture the skin. The wound glistens in the low light. The blood makes it look worse than it is. It should heal quickly, but Callum swallows. Hard. He squeezes his eyes shut as he presses his forehead against mine. “Fuck. I want to kill him.”
“You can’t. Not yet.” I touch his chest, curling my fingers into his shirt. “I’m okay.”
“He claimed you—”
“I don’t care what anyone says.” My tone sharpens. “I don’t belong to anyone. Least of all Blake.” His chest is rock hard beneath my knuckles, his muscles strained.
He stalks away, into our bathing chambers. It’s as if he can’t bear to look at me.
“Callum?”
The air is cold against my bare chest, and I cover myself with my arms. I feel vulnerable, even more so than when Blake bit me. My skin pebbles, and I’m starting to pull my dress back up when the floorboard creaks.
I release a breath, and my grip on the fabric. Callum holds a washcloth and a small bowl of water. He has not abandoned me like I feared. He takes my upper arms, and steers me into the armchair by the fire. He kneels before me and places the bowl between my legs.
Dampening the cloth, he brings it to my shoulder. Gently, he wipes away the blood. I feel the warmth of his palm through the cloth.
The look on his face... I feel as if I need to comfort him, reassure him, even though I’m the one who has been bitten. When the blood is gone, the circular mark is barely visible on my skin.
“It’s not deep,” I say. “It will heal soon.”
Callum wrings out the cloth in the bowl, and my blood dances across the water. “There is power in an alpha’s bite. If Ghealach accepts the claim, it will scar. This may well brand your skin forever.”
My pulse kicks up. “What?” For the first time since we arrived here, the fever rises within me, again. Sweat beads on my skin, and my insides feel like they’re burning. I try to pull it all back, to cage my emotions, but all I can think of is how much I want to sink my teeth into Blake and tear him apart, limb from limb. “He bit me, knowing I didn’t want it, knowing it would scar me forever?”
“Aye.”
Blake has seen the scars that mar my back, given to me by the priest to suppress the wolf inside me. He was there when James’s teeth sank through my flesh and almost killed me, branding my waist and torso. He knew this, and decided to leave his mark on me, too.
Amid the anger, something primal stirs. My stomach clenches and my teeth ache. Callum’s face is close to mine, and I let that strong face, those bright green eyes, push out any thoughts of Blake and what I would like to do to him.
Now the lunar eclipse is over, the half-moon shines through the window and casts light onto the side of his face. His palm grips the side of my neck, gentle but firm. He pushes his forehead against mine and his skin is burning. “Fuck. I can’t... I can’t handle this, Rory. I said I would wait until after the full moon. I told myself I’d wait. But I need you.”
I need him too. I need him to be rough with me, strong with me. I need him to rattle my uneasy soul, and give me something to focus my rage onto. I need to release this storm that’s building inside me before I march back up the mountain to find Blake, and throttle the despicable bastard. I need him to push away all thoughts of that snake’s glinting devious eyes, and his mouth at my throat, and my blood on his teeth.
I put my palm on his cheek. “Take me, then.”
A low groan sounds in his throat. He captures my mouth with his, and kisses me deeply, tenderly. I pull him closer to me, and wrap my legs around his waist. “My control is thin tonight. My wolf presses against my skin as if you are the moon, and it does not like that another male bit you. I fear I will lose myself and bite you, too.”
“You won’t do that.”
“You don’t know that.” He swallows, hard. “We need to do things my way, tonight, or not at all. Can you agree to that, for me?”
“I can handle it. I can handle you.”
“Rory, please.” His voice is strained. I stroke his cheek and nod.
He slides his hands beneath my thighs, and picks me up. He stalks across the room, places me gently on the mattress, then removes his clothes. He crawls over me. His face looms above mine and his warm breath tickles my lips. “If you feel the fever, if you need me to stop—”
“I won’t.”
His gaze darkens. “You must tell me.”
I nod, then bite my bottom lip. Heat flushes my face. “If you’re worried about losing control, I could always... well... I could be in control.”
The corner of his mouth lifts, and some of the darkness leaves his expression. “As much as I would like to have you ride my cock, Princess, I need to be in charge tonight.” He blinks, almost apologetically. “A wolf thing.”
There is a question in his eyes. I don’t think I could deny him anything right now. I incline my head. He shifts down my body, planting a kiss between my breasts, then on the soft skin of my torso. I breathe in sharply as the flames that flicker inside me build. He kneels as he slides my bunched up dress down my legs, his knuckles scraping my thighs, then tosses the fabric onto the floor. His hands are shaking, slightly, as he unfastens my boots and throws them aside.
“Are you alright?” I ask.
“Trying to restrain myself.” He offers me a sheepish grin. “I’ll be okay, momentarily.”
He slips my underwear off, exposing me to him, and releases a shuddery breath. He dips his head, and without warning, drags his tongue over me. I make an embarrassing noise and clench the sheets as his growl fills our bedchambers. “Fuck. You taste like you’re ready for me, Princess.”
“I. . .I am.”
Crawling over me, he rests one forearm on the pillow by my head, and nudges my thighs further apart with his knee. Breathing deeply, expression strained and full lips wet, he guides himself to my entrance. He groans when he pushes inside. My back arches, and a soft cry escapes my lips at the delicious pressure, the pinch of pain. He pauses when he fills me completely, closes his eyes and presses his forehead against mine to give me a moment to adjust to his size. He thrusts. It is deep and slow, and a rough grunt scrapes against his throat.
Sweat beads across my face as his scent floods my nostrils. I dig my fingers into the hard muscles of his back and kiss his neck. I need him harder. Faster. I curl my ankles around his back, and rock my hips against him.
He scrapes his teeth against the column of my throat and brings his mouth to my ear. “My way, remember, Princess?”
He moves tortuously slowly, drawing soft moans from my lips with each thrust. He’s trembling, and I know it’s because he’s holding himself back. I try to respect his wishes, I try to be gentle, but my hips move of their own accord, and my fingernails pierce his back. My teeth ache and there’s something wild within me that wants to tear into his flesh.
Bite. Bite. Bite.
I fear myself. I’m worried that if he doesn’t give me what I want, I’ll give in to this strange primal urge that is taking over me. Sweat beads on my brow as I suppress it, and the fever rises within.
“ Please ,” I gasp. “ Please .”
He groans, and it’s like my plea snaps something within him. He thrusts harder, deeper, and reaches the place inside me that I need him to touch.
When his mouth falls to my shoulder, and his teeth press against my skin, and his shoulders shudder beneath my hands, I get the sense that the urge to bite has come over him too. He wrenches away and claims my mouth instead.
I’m lost to him. To the sound of the mattress creaking, and his shallow grunts, and the dominant, branding thrust of his tongue.
Tonight melts away. I’m no longer under threat from the king, or being bitten by Blake, or a pawn, once again, in a game between men. I’m free. I’m powerful. I’m here with Callum, taking pleasure from his powerful body, while he struggles to maintain control.
“Come for me, Princess,” he growls.
My back arches up from the mattress as I come wholly, completely, undone. All the fear, the darkness, the pain from this night is expelled from me. His pace increases, becomes fevered, before his back muscles spasm beneath my fingertips as he too groans with release. His face dips to the crook of my neck.
“You’re mine,” he mumbles against my ear as his heart thunders against my chest. “You’re mine.”
Yet, as my orgasm ebbs away, and I stroke the back of his neck, I can’t ignore the slight protest within my soul. A small voice whispers through my bliss.
It tells me I belong to no one.