The Night Prince (The Wolf King, #2)(86)

“What about Callum? Will you kill him? Do I get a choice in that?”

He runs a hand over the sharp edge of his jaw. “If he forfeits when I challenge him, I will let him go.”

“And me? Will you let me go?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

My skin prickles. He’s lying. His choice seems to pulse in the air between us, dark and certain, and a word vibrates along the thread that links us. No.

I steady my breathing. “What happened to the Maester? Did you kill him?”

“That is not the right question, little rabbit.”

“What is the right question?”

“If you ask it, I shall tell you.” He tucks in his shirt. “But no, the Maester still lives.” He walks away, in the direction of the Great Hall, and the tension is broken.

“Blake.”

He halts. “Yes?”

“Last night, the dream. . . It was real, wasn’t it?”

He inclines his head. Coldness fills me.

“Alexander truly has one of Night’s prisoners,” I say.

“It looks that way.”

“What does he want with me?”

Blake shakes his head. “I hope we don’t find out.”

***

Callum spends the day in meetings with Blake and the other alphas, talking strategy for the impending battle with Alexander. Other than a few exchanged pleasantries over dinner that night, he doesn’t speak to me.

The next morning, I get tired of waiting for him, and knock on the door of his bedchambers. He’s already gone, so I spend the morning tailing Philip after he’s released from the infirmary.

After being shown to his bedchambers on the first floor of the castle, he heads outside. He stops Kayleigh on her way inside from the kitchen gardens, and—after flirting with her—asks her if it’s true that the Heart of the Moon is here.

He does the same thing to a couple more women, before he sits on the shore of the loch and looks out onto the mountains across the water. I watch him from a spot by the castle walls.

He’s clearly looking for the Heart of the Moon. Is that the real reason he has come to the Northlands?

Philip gets up and wanders back to his bedchambers. When he doesn’t emerge, I visit Fiona in the stables, share some bread and cheese with her on her break, then head back to the castle.

Back in my chambers, I pore over Testing the Lore of Wolves.

The experiments seem even more horrible now I know they may have been done to Blake. The sky darkens. The ink blurs. Frustration wells inside me, because I’ve scoured this book and can find no mention of a bond. I wonder if I’m wasting my time.

My heart jolts, and I slam my hand down onto the book.

There. The numbers change from page seventy-seven to eighty-three. I run my finger down the spine. There’s a tear. Pages have been removed from the tome. I curse myself. I should have trusted my instincts. I knew he gave me it too easily.

If these pages weren’t important, he wouldn’t have removed them.

If I’m lucky, the alphas will still be in their meeting. Blake will still be in the meeting.

I slide out of bed. I head out of my room, and down the spiral staircase.

I make my way to Blake’s bedchambers.





Chapter Forty-Five





Shouting and bagpipe music from the Great Hall filters up the stairwell as I pass it. When I reach his chambers, I press my ear to the door. There is no sound within.

Tentatively, I enter. I release a breath. It’s empty.

There’s a fire burning in the hearth. He has tidied since I last visited. The four-poster bed that dominates the space has been made, and the shredded curtains have been completely removed. The shelves beside it are creaking beneath the weight of his tomes.

His scent of dark forests lingers in the room, among the smell of woodsmoke and parchment.

I step into the room and close the door behind me.

It strikes me odd that Blake would leave his chambers unlocked, but I wonder if that is due to the arrogance of alpha Wolves. He believes no one would dare to break in. Most would not.

I take a deep breath. I must be quick. I don’t know how long it will be until he returns.

I hurry over to the bookshelf, the floorboards creaking beneath my feet. I run my hands over the tops of the books, hoping I’ll find a wedge of parchment stuffed away. Next, I rummage through the desk. There are two thin drawers in the dark wood, and I slide the first one open. There’s a pile of letters within, crumpled like they’ve been removed and stuffed back in again. I flick through them.

Sebastian seeks the Heart of the Moon.

Sebastian plans to marry the Southlands princess. He will be distracted through the festivities.

They are all signed M. These letters depict Blake organizing the siege on the Borderlands castle with his spy. I put them away.

I find nothing of interest in the second drawer—a few maps of the Northlands, a list of poisonous flowers, and what looks like one of Elsie’s romance novels titled The Alpha’s Fate. I can’t imagine him reading such tomes for pleasure, so I don’t know why it would be here. I shove them all back inside and scan the surface of the desk.

My heartbeat quickens when I move a book about Night’s Acolytes aside and find a piece of parchment, yellow with time. It’s not one of the pages I want, but there’s a handwritten note at the top.