The Night Prince (The Wolf King, #2)(68)

The door bursts open. Blake’s hand moves to his stolen dagger, and I spin around.

Duncan stands in the doorway, breathless. His cheeks are flushed, and his shirt is stained with blood. “I’ve come with a message from the king.” Blake unsheathes his weapon, and walks toward him. Duncan raises his arms, eyes widening. “The new king.”

I grab Blake’s bicep, and he halts beside me. “Callum?” I breathe.

“Yes, Callum.” He looks between Blake and me warily. “Callum is king. He’s on his way to Madadh-allaidh to join Lochlan and his army. He says you’re to come. Immediately.”





Chapter Thirty-Three





Duncan stands in the doorway. The wind blows his blue kilt against his thighs, and the night spills onto the flagstones before him. His shirt is bloody, and some of his blond hair has escaped its knot. There’s a bruise forming over his eye, and I wonder if Blake gave it to him, or one of Alexander’s men.

Callum is king.

Relief bursts in my chest, but it’s quickly stifled. Duncan was my prison warden when I was kept in a cell. He held a blade to my throat. He could be lying. It’s hard to believe Callum would send Duncan to find me, rather than come and get me himself.

Do as he says. I push back Callum’s voice, and the feelings those words provoke.

Beside me, Blake’s hand is curled around the hilt of his dagger. His arm is pressed against mine. He’s still shirtless, his skin is pale and clammy, and we’re both covered in blood. Duncan looks between us warily.

“I’m not lying,” he says. “Callum sent me.”

“The Borderlands men?” asks Blake.

“They rode away after Alexander left.”

Blake uncurls his fingers from his weapon. “We’ll meet you outside.”

Duncan nods, then heads out of the chapel. The door swings shut behind him. When I take a deep breath, the scent of blood fills my lungs and reminds me that Blake’s not yet at full health.

“He might be lying,” I say.

“He’s not,” says Blake. “Or at least, I don’t think he is.”

“Why didn’t Callum come after me himself?”

He sighs heavily. “Because you’re with me.” My eyebrows knit together, because this seems to exasperate him. He runs his good hand over the back of his neck “Or perhaps this is a trap, little rabbit. Shall we find out?”

Blake grabs his bloody shirt. He struggles to slip it on, and I help him fasten up the buttons. We walk down the aisle, and head outside.

Duncan is already on his horse by the chapel gates. The mountains loom behind him. Blake walks to the horse we rode here on, and pats her on the side. I halt and stiffen. We’d rode here in such a panic, it hadn’t really occurred to me that our bodies were pressed together for the journey.

Blake looks over his shoulder and pulls a face. “Unless you’d prefer to ride with Duncan?”

Duncan straightens in his saddle, and I catch a hint of panic in his eyes before he resolutely looks away. I wonder if he worries what Callum would think.

I huff as I join Blake by the horse. “I’m holding the reins.”

His left arm hangs limp at his side, and he rolls his eyes. “Obviously.”

When I’m seated in the saddle, Blake hauls himself up behind me. His chest presses against my back, and every muscle in my body tightens. He grabs the saddle, rather than curling his arms around my waist. It satisfies me that, no longer on the brink of death, he’s uncomfortable with this, too.

Duncan rides through the gates. Still marginally concerned about where he might be leading us, I grip the reins and follow him.

The trees rustle around us as we trot down a dark mountain pass. The peaks are hidden by darkness. Blake’s legs rub against mine as the terrain becomes more uneven, and he keeps shifting to try and put distance between us.

He kissed me, earlier.

The weight of his kiss is heavy on my lips. I’m sure it’ll get heavier when we get back to the castle. I’m sure there’ll be consequences for both of us. All the alphas saw it. Callum saw it.

Do as he says.

“You know Alexander,” I say, quietly, after a while.

“Yes.” Blake’s breath tickles my ear.

“You failed to mention that.”

“I didn’t realize I had to inform you of all my acquaintances.” The horse stumbles on a rock, and his chest bumps into my back. “I can provide you with a list, if you wish.”

“Don’t be obtuse. You knew Alexander was coming after me, and you knew our history. It was pertinent information you should have shared.”

“Why? You seem to think we are enemies.”

“And you told me we were friends. How do you know him?”

Blake’s sigh is warm against my cheek. “I was imprisoned a while back. I met him during my time of captivity.”

“Why were you imprisoned?”

“For being a wolf.”

My retort for how it was good he got some form of comeuppance for his behavior dies in my throat. “Oh. Sorry.” There’s running water by our side, though it’s too dark to determine if it’s a brook or a river. The sound is peaceful. “How did you know Alexander wouldn’t follow us into the chapel?”