The Night Prince (The Wolf King, #2)(82)

Questions bubble inside me. There’s so much I want to know. I wonder what he found out in the Snowlands, and whether he knows Mother was a wolf. “We will talk about this later, Philip,” I say.

“You were always insufferably bossy, little sister.”

I narrow my eyes. “And you were always insufferable.”

The door to the infirmary swings open. Lochlan and Jack enter.

Philip falls quiet as Jack strolls toward him. “Is this the heir to the Southlands throne?” For the first time, Philip seems uncomfortable. Jack grabs his hand, the one with the finger missing, and clucks his tongue. “Oh dear, what happened here?”

“I’m more interested in this.” Lochlan approaches, grabs the high collar of my brother’s coat, and tugs it to one side. Ink curls up Philip’s collarbone and creeps down his shoulder. The tattoo must be new; he didn’t have it when we lived in the Southlands. “I’ve heard that deadly warriors in the Snowlands bear these kinds of marks.”

Philip shifts in the chair to cover it back up, and my scoff dies in my throat.

His face is hard. There’s an iciness in his eyes that I’ve not seen before. His face. . . the way he’s looking at Lochlan. . . For the first time in his life, he looks dangerous.

Until he blinks, and a grin broadens across his face. “The outcome of a night of debauchery and too much ale at the King’s City docks.”

Callum exhales. “If Alexander is planning an attack, I don’t have time to look after a spoiled prince. Blake, find out what you can, then get rid of him.” He tracks Lochlan’s movements as the alpha pulls a chair toward Kai’s cot and drops into it. “Has anything changed?”

“No,” says Blake.

Philip straightens. “I’m not leaving. Not until you’ve agreed to speak with Ingrid.”

Callum shrugs. “I’ve given you your answer. I won’t force you to leave, but my people will tear you apart if you stay. I won’t protect you.” He walks toward the infirmary doors. “Princess, let me escort you to your chambers.”

The desire to know more about what Philip has been doing, and my need to have a conversation with Callum, war inside me. My aching heart wins, and I follow Callum into the corridor.

I feel both Blake and my brother’s eyes on me as I walk away.





Chapter Forty-Two





We make the journey through the castle in silence. Callum follows me up the spiral staircase, then leans over me to push the door open. His chest momentarily presses against my back.

Do as he says.

Inside, the candles are unlit, and the darkness lies heavily atop the many books and trinkets within the room. The door clicks shut, and the room feels too small to breathe. Callum strolls toward the window and looks out onto the shadow-drenched mountains.

“You—”

“Why—”

We both speak at the same time. I shut my mouth and allow him to continue.

“Can we trust your brother?” He clasps his hands together, and I get the impression that wasn’t what he was going to say.

“No. He’s rotten. But everything he said about the God of Night. . . Kai has Night’s mark on his chest, and it seems like Alexander worships the God of Night. I think something is going on. What if Alexander is the Night Prince?”

Callum’s jaw hardens. “It doesn’t matter who he worships. If he means to attack my kingdom, if he means to take you, he’ll face my wrath.

He runs a hand over his mouth. When he sets his eyes on me, there’s such pain in them that I almost stagger back. I sigh. “Talk to me, Callum.”

He walks to the edge of my bed and sits down. The small frame creaks beneath his weight. “I cannot get it out of my head,” he says. “Even with everything going on, it gnaws through my skull. There’s no respite. I close my eyes, and I see him with you.”

My pulse quickens at the rawness of his confession. I want to be relieved that he’s finally opening up to me, but it feels unfair. “I cannot get it out of my mind, either.”

He makes a low sound in his throat.

“Not in the way you’re thinking,” I say. “I can’t get it out of my head because of you.”

“Why?”

“Why! Callum, you told him to do it.” Callum opens his mouth, but I’m not finished yet. “Your brother took me prisoner. He bound me, and humiliated me in front of a room full of men who would gladly kill me. You could have done something to help me. You sat there, and you watched, and you told Blake to do it.”

His jaw hardens. “I told Blake to do it because it was the only way one of us could get to you, to free you.” There is something defiant in his tone, and he glances at the armoire in the corner of the room, as if he can’t quite meet my eye.

I think back to the moment in the manor house. Blake tapped the table before he approached me, signaling something to Callum. He slid his fingers into my bindings, as if to test their strength.

Callum though. . . it seemed like he was listening to what James was saying. The way he looked at Blake, with suspicion, when Blake was visibly annoyed that James touched me.

Do as he says.

“I don’t believe you,” I say. “I think, perhaps, Blake went through with it because he was trying to free me, but it seemed like you had another reason.”