The Night Prince (The Wolf King, #2)(30)

It’s a love story, from the look of it, between a woman who works in the kitchens of a grand castle and the grumpy male who is the alpha there. I flush when I catch a rather intimate description of the two characters in bed with one another. Heat coils low in my stomach. Across the hall, Blake clears his throat. I glance up at him. He’s still talking to Jack and Lochlan, but one of his hands grips the edge of the table.

I go back to the story, flicking back the pages so I can read it properly from the start. Perhaps Elsie was making fun of me when she said it was enlightening. I get to the part where the alpha comes to the kitchens to tell the maid she looks good enough to eat.

A shadow looms across the page.

“Is Callum not satisfying you, darling?”

Every muscle in my body tightens and locks. Blake leans forward and tugs the book out of my hands. He flicks through, and stops at a random page. I feel his pulse of amusement.

“The alpha slides his throbbing member into her wet folds. . . Aurora, darling, where did you find this? This is quite shocking.”

My cheeks flame. I grit my teeth and bite back my retort. I know he’s trying to get a reaction out of me, and I won’t give him the satisfaction.

“He flips her over onto her stomach and thrusts his hips—”

I jump up, and knock the back of my knees against the bench. A few Wolves look in our direction. I collect my pile of books, slide along the table, and march toward the exit of the Great Hall. Blake pockets the love story and follows me.

“You’re not still upset about last night, are you?” he asks, and for some reason, the audacity of him asking me that question—the casualness in his tone, as if I have no reason to be upset that he bit and claimed me—provokes me more than anything he has done so far.

Rage erupts in my chest, stronger than the Northlands winds outside. My teeth ache and long to sink into something, into him. My knuckles whiten as I squeeze the pile of books.

He wants a reaction from me. I won’t give him one.

I swallow my emotion.

I storm out of the Great Hall.

I feel him watching me.





Chapter Fourteen





I decide to take Elsie up on her offer to visit the village, and after putting my books in our chambers, I head toward the castle exit. I wonder if there’s anything she can tell me about Blake that might be useful to Callum and me.

More than anything, I’d like to get some fresh air, away from Lowfell. Elsie—despite her horrible brother—seems like she might be nicer than I first assumed.

When I open the door, she is already waiting for me in the courtyard outside. She leans against the wall while Alfie chases a bird across the cobblestones. “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she says.

My smile falters. “I did wonder if it was wise, after last night. James seems intent on capturing me.”

“You’ll be fine.” She opens her coat, and pats a dagger sheathed in the belt around her waist. “I can take care of anyone who tries anything. It’s only a half-an-hour walk, and we’re not leaving Blake’s territory. Besides, it looks like that big oaf will be protecting us meek ladies, anyway.”

She rolls her eyes, though her cheeks flush slightly. I look over my shoulder, half expecting to see Callum. It’s Arran who strides through the castle doors wearing a black shirt and a kilt of black-and-grey tartan.

“I thought you didn’t want to come,” says Elsie as he approaches.

“Changed my mind.” His voice is hoarse, as if he doesn’t speak much, and his mouth pinches in the corners. He doesn’t sound convincing.

“Had your mind changed, more like.” Elsie arches an eyebrow. Alfie trips on a stone, and wails as he falls onto his knees. Elsie scoffs. “Oh, come here, you!”

She marches toward him, picks him up, and brushes down his little breeches.

I glance up at Arran. “Blake told you to keep an eye on me, didn’t he?”

“Is that supposed to be a joke?” he says. I frown, and he points at his eye patch. “On account of me only having one?”

My cheeks flame. “Oh, goodness! I would never. . .” I shut my mouth.

Arran is grinning, and Elsie shakes her head as she marches Alfie over. She slaps the burly male’s arm. “Don’t be mean,” she says.

“You’re joking.” I bite my cheek. “You have a sense of humor, then? I wondered.”

Arran lets out a gravelly laugh, and not for the first time, familiarity jolts through me. “Aye, Blake told me to watch you. Something about protecting his assets.”

I exhale and my breath mists in front of my face. “Of course he said that.”

He ruffles Alfie’s messy hair with a big hand. “Come on. Let’s get this over with. I hate shopping.”

With Alfie wittering on about getting a glass of apple juice from the “apply lady” when we arrive, the four of us head through the tunnel in the wall, then cross the grounds.

I must admit, having spent most of my time in castles, so far, I’m curious to visit a village here in the wolf kingdom.

I’m even more curious to know what the people who consider Blake alpha think of him.

Light rain falls as we leave Lowfell behind.

We walk past the mountain path we ascended last night, and soon reach an overgrown track that cuts through a valley. Alfie races ahead. When some sheep grazing on the slope of one of the mountains scatter—afraid of the little menace tearing toward them—Elsie shouts at him to pack it in, then hurries after him.