Chapter 141

I want to continue my research into the woman in the picture with Evan, but Hector likely has the library watched now. After what happened last time, I’m not in any kind of mood to see him again, or be tossed around in another confrontation.

Without those old newspaper resources, investigating is sure to be much more difficult this time, but I’m unwilling to give up.

Staring at the photo I’d printed of the unknown woman, I searched every square inch for answers. I stare at the photo for so long that I feel like my eyes are going cross. Surely, I’ve memorized every inch by now.

Then, I see it. A tiny little mark, barely noticeable, at the base of the woman’s throat.

“Bethany,” I say, lifting her attention away from the needlepoint she’s taken up while sitting beside me, idle, in my room. She’s already cleaned every inch of it. Typically, by now, I’d be out of the room, allowing her the opportunity to see to other tasks.

As Caleb hasn’t called for me as much lately, I’m stuck here. Bethany, being my handmaiden, is duty-assigned to stay by my side while I’m here.

“What is it?” she asks.

“Do you know where I can get a magnifying glass?”

Ten minutes later, Bethany returns to the room holding just what I need. Approaching me at the table, she passes it over. Then she returns to her own chair and her needlepoint.

Lifting the magnifying glass, I more carefully inspect the image. I look in the other spots first, ignoring the point of interest, just in case I missed anything. When I don’t find anything, I move the magnifying glass closer to the unknown woman’s throat.

Yes. There. I can see it now.

She’s married with the brand of an omega. It’s distinctive in size and shape. Though it could be in any place on the omega’s body, this one is right there near her collarbone at the base of her throat.

Even seeing it clearly, I still can’t believe my eyes.

“Look at this,” I say, passing the photo and the magnifying glass to Bethany. “There on her neck. Tell me I’m not seeing things.”

Bethany lowers the needlepoint to inspect where I’ve told her. Right away, she says, “That’s the mark of an omega.”

Omegas are the lowest members of the pack. Though still ranked as servants and slaves, they cannot hold any position of importance, even to marry someone of rank. They often find their purposes in being nannies or caretakers and helping other more prominent members of the pack.

The question then is, what in the world was an omega doing, looking like a lover to Prince Evan? How could someone with such a lowly status be tied up in some kind of royal plot?

With a worried expression, Bethany hands back the photo and the magnifying glass.

“Maybe you should stop looking into this,” Bethany says. “There are old secrets here that might be better off staying buried.”

“It’s dangerous, I know,” I say. “But for Caleb, I have to find the truth.”

“You don’t think he killed his brother?”

“I do.” The evidence is clear that Caleb committed the act. “But that doesn’t mean it was unprompted.”

“You think someone put him up to it?”

I do, but I’m not willing to admit that right now. Hector’s investment in this felt like less than a father protecting his son, and more like he was defending himself.

I could be wrong, I admit that, but until I know for sure, I can’t let this go.

Knowing the woman is an omega helps a massive amount. There aren’t many omegas and all of their birthdays and locations are documented and stored in this very building. I just needed access to the records.

“Bethany…”

She has already set aside her needlepoint once more. “Come on. I’ll go with you to the record room and keep watch while you snoop.”

“Thank you,” I tell her in appreciation and gratitude. I was blessed the day Bethany was chosen to be my handmaiden. She has quickly become the best friend I’ve ever had.

Bethany leads me to the record room. The omega records are kept in thick binders lined up on a bookcase. As they are organized by the pack and then year, I search first for the pack of the capital, knowing she would have had to be nearby to form a relationship with the prince.

From there, I searched for the year the photo was taken.

Oddly, I find that the binder for the year I need has been removed. I go back to the year before and remove the binder. Opening it, I saw that some pages had been torn out in haste, bits of paper still attached to the binder clips.

The other omegas in the binder do not match the description. Some are too old, others are only children.

I put that binder back and then take down the one from the year before. It’s the same, with pages missing and none of the others matching the woman.

It seems as if the woman I’m searching for has been entirely removed from the public record as if someone has scrubbed her whole existence.

I have little to no hope of finding her, then. Without even knowing her name, she is lost to me.

But I won’t give up. I might not be an omega, but I am still a lowly consort. As someone who has also been caught up in the royal drama, I feel a sort of comradery with this woman.

I won’t rest until I find out who she is and make sure she’s okay. If she’s been killed in all of this, I will make sure her memory is honored, not lost to time.

“Harper,” Tristan says from the entrance of the records room.

Bethany, standing behind him, gives me a worried look from behind his shoulder. She was to be lookout, but I could understand how Tristan could sneak by her guard. He is as stealthy as he comes when he wants to be.

He struts toward me, his gaze drifting down to the binder in my hand. I snap it closed.

I expect a scolding from him, likely a lecture and a threat to tell Caleb what I’ve been up to. Likely, from seeing what I’m looking at, a man as keen as him would be able to piece together what I’m searching for.

“You’ve been busy,” he says.

“Idle hands make for idle minds,” I tell him. “I need to keep busy.”

He hums. His expression doesn’t change but there’s something about him, maybe the intensity of his gaze, that tells me he sees straight through me.

“Her name is Summer Robins,” he says. “I warn you, never say that name aloud. Do not even repeat it back to me.”

“Thank you -“

“Do not thank me, either,” Tristan says. “Just remember it, and do with it as you will. If you are caught in your carelessness, I will not save you.”

Swallowing thickly, I reply, “I understand. But if I could ask you -“

“I will not explain more,” Tristan says firmly. “Now, wrap up what you are doing here. Caleb needs you.”

Chapter 142

Tristan leads me to the door of Caleb’s chambers, where even the guards seem nervous. From within, I hear the sounds of porcelain being shattered, of tables and chairs being thrown, and Caleb’s loud voice, booming from within.

“I need answers, doctor! Solutions! Not more of your useless doctor- speak!”

The guards, seeing me, step aside at once to let me enter. Tristan gestures for me to do so. With his feet firmly planted, he’s making it clear he has no intention of joining me inside.

I take a moment to gather myself with a deep inhale and exhale. Then, not sure what to expect, I step inside the chambers.

Immediately, I am greeted with destruction and chaos.

Much of Caleb’s furniture has been upturned. One of his chairs has gone through the window and sits on the balcony outside. Hanging pictures have fallen off the walls, their glass shattered and scattered across the floor.

Even with shoes, I step carefully to avoid the larger pieces.

Caleb is near the bed, pacing from it to the wall and back again. A nervous-looking doctor stands nearby.

“I’m no longer asking, I’m commanding,” Caleb shouts. “You will give me something for this paranoia!”

The doctor worried his hands together while shaking his head. “I took a vow, my King, to do no harm, and I must uphold it. As I said before, your strong Alpha blood will counteract the safe level of drugs I could prescribe to you. The sheer amount of drugs you would need to sedate those feelings would hurt you if not outright kill you.”

“That was a command, doctor!”

“Caleb,” I say sharply, approaching faster now. I’m well aware of how foolhardy the action is. One should never speak such to a King, especially in front of someone else. Whatever liberties Caleb allows me in private, do not transcend into public. He has his ruthless image to maintain.

However, given the circumstances, if I don’t do something, Caleb is likely to rip the doctor’s head off. This is a good doctor, who will stand by his vow rather than allow his king to harm himself. I will protect him if I can, for Caleb’s sake, his own, and any patients that might be soon needing a good doctor.

Caleb’s wild red-flashing eyes shift to me. “You overstep your place, consort.” His voice stays angry, but the volume goes down, a sign that my presence is working once again.

Sensing the change in the room, the doctor finds the courage to continue, “You are suffering from mate-sickness, my King. The only way to cure it, as strong as it is within you, is to find and claim your mate.”

Caleb sharply switches his attention – and his ire – back to the doctor. “I am not some weak-willed lovesick fool, doctor, and the implication otherwise is a great insult.” The volume of his voice remains level, thankfully, even though the tone dips down into dangerous territory.

The doctor visibly swallows.

“King Caleb,” I say, to redirect his attention. “I need to speak with you on an urgent matter.”

That’s a blatant lie, but it’s the best excuse I could think of at the moment to turn Caleb’s attention onto me and away from the doctor.

“It’s private,” I add, glancing sideways at the doctor. If I could get the doctor excused from this room, that would save him- at least, for now. Surely this argument would happen again and again, likely with increasing ferocity, until Caleb could find his cure.

A cure that involves finding his mate. My stomach twists uncomfortably at the thought. I already feel heavy in the knowledge that I will have to share Caleb with Annabelle, the woman to be his bride. Now, I must share him with a third – a mate?

He will surely cast me aside for his fated mate. As his perfect match, a fated mate would satisfy him in every way, more than I could ever hope to. He’d have more use for me.

Maybe then, he would release me. Heartbroken, the thought does not fill me with as much satisfaction as I thought it would.

Caleb’s eyes narrow, looking at me. “Fine.” To the doctor, he barks, “Get out.”

The doctor doesn’t waste any time. In a rush, he turns and darts from the room, the glass crunching under his feet.

Caleb and I stare at each other in silence, until the doctor exits and the door shuts behind him.

Then, Caleb steps toward me. Pulling himself up to his full, intimidating height, he glowers down at me. “What is this urgent matter?”

I try to think quickly, but Caleb notices my hesitation.

In a flash, he closes the remaining distance between us and grabs me roughly by the shoulders.

“You lied,” he growls. “You, the one person I thought I could trust. You wish to betray me too, do you? Are you working with them? Are you in on this plot against me?”

“N-no!” I say quickly, but some fear throttles the word, making it uneven. It doesn’t sound true, even to my own ears. I can only imagine how deceitful I sound to Caleb.

Since we’ve grown so close, I don’t usually feel fear around Caleb anymore. But when he’s like this, his behavior is impossible to predict, and that terror returns. His paranoia could drive him to harm me, regardless of the affection I know he otherwise feels for me.

The Caleb I know has taken a backseat at present. This Caleb is overwhelmed by his paranoia, a result of his mate-sickness.

“Caleb, please.”

“You’ve betrayed me my consort,” Caleb growls. “After everything I’ve done for you. After all, I give to you…

He tosses me like a ragdoll. I expect to be thrown to the floor like his father had done, but instead, I find myself bouncing, unharmed, atop his bed.

In the jostle, however, the photo of Summer Robins falls out of my pocket. I reach for it, hoping to snatch it away before Caleb can see it.

But, with the sudden quiet in the room, I know I’m already too late.

Glancing up, I see Caleb, his red eyes affixed to the printed-out photo resting at the edge of the bed.

“What is this?” he asks, his voice so quiet that if there had been any other noise in the room, I wouldn’t have heard him. “Where did you find this? Why did you have this?”

With each word, his fury intensifies. His hands curl, his fingers elongating and turning into claws. His canines sharpen, his teeth growing bigger in his mouth.

He’s not just at the edge of shifting, he is slowly, actively becoming more werewolf than man.

“Caleb…” I say, hoping to calm him and bring back some of his humanity before he totally loses himself.

He grows a full foot in height, with fur beginning to prickle out from his skin.

“Caleb, please,” I beg, but he seems beyond me now.

He’s trapped in his mind, in his wolf, and all he knows is anger.

Enraged, he leaps toward the bed. I roll back out of fright, but he doesn’t attack me. Instead, he grabs the photo of Summer and shreds it to pieces with his claws.

Chapter 143

Never before have I seen Caleb act this animalistic without reason. It’s as if he’s totally lost himself in the frenzy of the wolf. Even half-shifted, he seems out of his mind, with neither man nor wolf fully in charge. Only the paranoia drives him now, like a parasite that’s fully taken over his body…

The pieces of the photo I’d printed of Summer Robins twist and fall in the windless room. Even when they finally rest on the floor, Caleb lifts his foot and smashes them further, as if hoping to grind them to dust – as if, needing to somehow, for reasons I don’t fully understand.

When he’s like this, I fully fear him and the carnage he could wreak. I know he’s not the man I’ve come to admire, even love. This is someone else wearing his skin.

Yet, even with that fear, I can’t let this continue. If I don’t find a way to stop this transition, I might fully lose Caleb forever. That is unacceptable. I won’t allow it.

Pushing myself forward, I reach the edge of the bed and then step off of it. Caleb does not move backward; he gives me no room at all. This means, my chest is very near his waist, as he towers over me even higher than he normally would. He glares down at me with his inhuman features, a snarl crossing his wolf-like mouth.

“Caleb,” I say again, keeping my voice as calm as I am able. Rallying together every shred of courage from within me, I inch even closer to him. Slowly, telegraphic my movements as much as I can, I lift my hands and place them onto where his chest should be, under the fur now covering him.

Just as slowly, he curls toward me and inhales, scenting first my hair, then my shoulder, then, finally, my neck.

For several long moments, we stay just like that, with Caleb breathing deeply at the junction of my neck and shoulder. I am as still as a statue, allowing him to take in my scent. I push down on my fear, allowing only calm and peace to lift to the surface.

He must scent those emotions on me. With a tiny sigh, his body begins to shrink down to his normal height. The fur retracts from his skin, and his facial features take on their typical human shapes.

After a few uneasy moments, Caleb fully returns to his human self.

Immediately, as soon as he has hands and not claws, he wraps his arms around me and presses me more fully against him. His nose stays at my neck, breathing deeply, even in human form.

“Harper,” he says, and I finally exhale with relief. For him to call me that means that he’s regaining his faculties, at least in part. “I’m losing my mind.”

“We’ll find a way to stop it,” I say, though I have no real idea of how to begin. To truly save him, we need to find his fated mate. My presence is only a temporary solution.

“The doctor has denied my drugs.”

“He can’t harm his patients,” I say. “He cannot break his vow, not even for you.”

Caleb hums. He seems more receptive to that notion now than he did when the doctor was in the room…

“Only when I’m with you, do I feel some clarity. Not even my fiancé gives me peace like you do,” he says. Softer, gentler, he adds, “You understand why I cannot acquiesce to your request, even if my affection and gratitude toward you make me want to give you what you want.”

I suppose I could understand. With Caleb’s sanity teetering on the edge of a knife, I am the only thing keeping him from succumbing fully to his paranoid mindset.

Yet with that acknowledgement come questions.

“Why marry Annabelle at all, if she cannot help with the mate- sickness? Why not go out and search for your actual fated mate?” I ask.

While it’s true that finding a fated mate requires a great deal of challenge – some wolves go their entire lives searching – no one has more resources than the Alpha King. If he cannot find his mate, even with those resources, what hope remains for anyone else?

“I cannot leave the throne unattended,” he says.

“Send Tristan, then. It might take longer, but surely the end result will be worth the wait.”

“I can’t,” he says again, softer. “A Luna is needed on the throne. I have already delayed this course for too long. With each passing day, my subjects respect me less and less, and that’s not simply because of my mate-sickness. Without a Luna, this kingdom is weaker.”

I sense the influence of Caleb’s parents and his advisors in those words. In the past, he’d brush them off. But the mate-sickness has left him vulnerable in a way he’s likely never experienced before. To protect his throne and his kingdom, he needs to cover that weakness. By marrying Annabelle, he would at least be able to hide it for a time.

That’s a temporary solution, though. Sooner or later, Caleb’s sickness would take him over, and unless Caleb’s parents and advisors were ready to leave the kingdom in Annabelle’s hands, they’d have to face the hard truth that a new Alpha is needed.

My own doubts creep into my mind. Maybe this is just the play Caleb’s parents are attempting to make. Perhaps they see Annabelle as a puppet they can use to take over once again while Caleb is lost in his mind.

I decide not to voice these concerns, not wanting to put even more cause for paranoia on top of Caleb.

Fortunately, the need to say anything more is proved moot, when Tristan enters the room. Caleb and I step apart from each other, no longer locked in an intimate embrace. However, Caleb still keeps me near, our arms pressed together.

“Forgive the intrusion,” Tristan says, “But a scout has returned from the north. The advisors believe he has vital new intelligence that you need to hear, King Caleb.”

The troubles of the kingdom will not wait for Caleb to recover, it seems. Why do I feel, that no matter if peacetime or wartime, Caleb will never find time to rest.

Of course, he wouldn’t have time to leave his throne in search of his mate, with how much he is needed here. Neither could Tristan go on the hunt, as he is just as vital as Caleb’s right hand.

Even so, it seems terribly unfair for Caleb to suffer like he has. Does no one have a viable long-term solution that includes both the welfare of the kingdom as well as the best health of the king?

I suppose not. If anyone had any ideas, they would have likely said them already.

Caleb nods, then starts forward, heading toward the door.

Behind him, Tristan glances at me. “You should be there.”

“Me?” I ask, to be sure. There’s no one else in the room, but I can’t imagine why I would be vital to this meeting – unless Tristan thinks the news might set off Caleb’s paranoia again, and he will need me to calm down.

That’s not what Tristan says though. Instead, “You should hear what the scout has to say.”

Chapter 144

Chapter 145

Chapter 146

Chapter 147

Chapter 148

Chapter 149

Chapter 150

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Chapter 131

Caleb follows Tristan to an empty gym. The guards already sparred in here earlier and now it sits empty. If Caleb didn’t know Tristan as well as he did, he might suspect that Tristan led him back here so they could continue their fight.

But Caleb does know Tristan, so he knows Tristan only brought him back here so they can talk – which means Caleb needs to calm down.

Shifting in front of an entire was probably not the wisest choice for Caleb, but in his state, he’d been unable to think clearly enough to care. With Tristan’s interference, he’s beginning to realize he shouldn’t fight his own guards.

Especially when they are already beginning to distrust him.

They stop in the center of the room, and then Tristan turns to look at Caleb, wearing his typical faux-bored expression. He’s waiting for the truth.

“I offered Harper a gift of her choosing in exchange for her saving my life,” Caleb says. With his wolf pushed back, he can speak much more easily than he could when he was near his shift. “At first, she denied needing the gift, but now she’s asked something of me.”

“She wants to be free,” Tristan says.

Caleb narrows his eyes at Tristan. He hadn’t suspected that Tristan might be the one that Harper might be seeking to marry…

No. Caleb shakes his head. That’s the paranoia’s influence. He knows them both too well to believe that.

“Her face when she stood beside you while you were on your date with Annabelle told a story,” Tristan says. “She hadn’t looked that unhappy since she was first brought here.”

Caleb didn’t notice her unhappiness during his date. He’d been too focused on trying to determine if Annabelle was worthy to stand beside him on his throne. The pressure from his parents made him singularly focused in that regard.

He could kick himself now, for not seeing the discomfort in Harper. Maybe he could have found a way to resolve this before she made her request.

Too late now.

“She needs to fall in line,” Caleb grumbles. “She must know what she asks is impossible.”

“Harper isn’t like the other women in your harem,” Tristan says. “She’s opened her heart to you, and in doing so, has opened herself up to be hurt by you. Every time you flirt with another, she feels it.”

“And you could see that on her face?” Caleb asks, just to be sure.

“Yes,” Tristan says. “All you have to do to see it is look at her.” Tristan shrugs. “She’s jealous, King Caleb.”

“Jealous?” Caleb doesn’t truly understand. The girls could be petty over each other, but Harper has never been like that. She’s never seemed to care how much money or gifts he’s lavished on anyone else.

“She doesn’t want to share you,” Tristan says.

She did say something like that, now that Caleb remembers, thinking clearer. She wants a mate who will share special moments and celebrations with her. She doesn’t want to be anyone’s second or replacement.

Perhaps the warning signs were there, Caleb just didn’t see them.

To keep Harper, Caleb has to try to be more understanding. If only he could find some compromise to keep the both of them happy.

Oh! That could work.

“Harper will no longer need to attend my dates with Annabelle,” Caleb says. “In fact, I believe we should keep the two entirely separate. If they do not see each other, they will not think of one another.”

“My King,” Tristan says, and Caleb can already tell just from his tone that he’s about to disagree. “This seems like only a temporary solution. It might even be worse for Harper to not be there. Her imagination will surely run wild…”

“Harper will adjust,” Caleb says. “She will have to, as I fully intend to make Annabelle my wife.”

Tristan stares at Caleb for a long moment, like he is waiting for something else. When Caleb doesn’t say anything more – what’s left to say? – Tristan sighs and glances away. “That is your decision, my King.”

“Annabelle is a fine woman and would make a good queen,” Caleb says.

“Of course,” Tristan says.

Annoyance swells within Caleb. Even as many times as Caleb scolds him, Tristan never speaks his mind to Caleb. But he’s clearly holding back now.

Not that it matters. Caleb has made his decision, and that is all there is.

He is so determined that later that day, during a lunch date with Annabelle, Caleb proposes.

“Annabelle. Would you care to be my wife?”

Annabelle’s smile stretches so wide, it must hurt her cheeks. “Yes, my King. That would be wonderful.”

He should tell her that if she’s going to be his queen, she should start addressing him by his first name, but he doesn’t. The thought of her being so informal with him doesn’t sit quite right.

Though he doesn’t mind when Harper does it.

He’s sure by the time the engagement is through, he will feel differently.

News of the engagement spreads through the palace like wildfire, with whispers flittering between the servants and the guards. Eventually, the harem girls overhear.

Bethany rushes straight to me as I’m walking down the hallway, returning from the dining room where I ate lunch.

“Caleb’s getting married,” she says. “He proposed only an hour ago.”

I really wish I didn’t eat anything, because now it’s threatening to return up my throat.

Swallowing it down again, I nod and continue walking back to my room.

“Did you hear me?” Bethany asks, hurrying along beside me. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Are you alright? You’re pale.”

“I’m fine,” I say, though even those two little words sound hurt.

Truthfully, I’m not fine, but I vowed I wouldn’t cry over Caleb anymore and I’m holding myself to that.

Once we are back in the safety of my room, I turn to Bethany. “I need a suitcase.”

Her eyes go wide. “A suitcase? Why?”

“If he proposed, that must mean that he is accepting my request. I imagine I will be gone from this place by nightfall.”

Bethany’s face starts to fall. “You will?”

I hate to leave her here. “I will see if I can bring you with me,” I say. “A woman needs her handmaiden, after all.”

Bethany perks at that. “The suitcases are kept in storage. I’ll return with two.”

With that, Bethany turns and hurries out of the room.

In her absence, I start to decide what I will be taking with me. I won’t be taking everything. I have no need for some of the finer things, like the gowns or the flashy jewelry. But I will take the simpler, more comfortable dresses and clothing.

Gathering up a few outfits, I haul them out into the main room and drop them on my bed.

“What’s this?” Caleb asks.

I jump, not having heard him come in.

“I’m packing,” I tell him. There’s no sense hiding it, not when he’s likely to come here to tell me to leave.

Turning toward him, I brace myself by reminding myself this is what I want. I don’t want to have to watch Caleb and Annabelle act like a loving couple for the rest of my life, while I hang around on the side.

I’d rather leave.

“Where are you going?” he asks me, walking closer.

“I haven’t decided yet,” I say.

“And you think I will authorize a trip like this?” he asks. He stops two feet in front of me.

“It’s not a trip,” I say, confused. “I’m leaving.”

Caleb’s face twists in anger. “You are not leaving.”

“But -“

In a flash, Caleb closes the distance. Grabbing me roughly by the shoulders, he insists, “You are not going anywhere, Harper. You will always be mine.

Chapter 132

For a moment, I’m too stunned to speak. How could I have gotten this so wrong? How could I think that Caleb would be reasonable, and want to save me from further hurt when everything that he’s ever done until this moment has only been in his own selfish interest?

Of course, he wouldn’t want to free me from this torture. Why would he? Not when he can have what he wants by forcing me to stay here.

This is a man with a harem. He doesn’t understand what monogamy means, or why anyone would want it.

With a heavy sigh, my entire body sinks, pulled down by the weight of knowledge of the pain to come. There will be no escape for me, then.

What if they have children?

Oh, gods.

I put my hand on my stomach, willing myself not to be sick.

“If you mean what you said, about me mattering to you more than I realize, then why would you want to torture me like this?” I ask.

“This won’t be torture,” Caleb says. “Nothing will change between us.”

He’s delusional if he believes that. Or, perhaps more likely, he has no idea the kind of relationship that Annabelle wants. Will he even release his harem at her request, or does he fully intend to make her miserable too?

Nothing will change? Everything will change.

“You will have a wife who will expect things from you,” I say.

“She will adapt, as you will.” He seems so damn confident like he has it all figured out. Like he believes everything will be as easy as Do what I say.

Feelings don’t work like that. They aren’t logical. I can’t just not be heartbroken because he wants me to stop.

I don’t even know where to begin in trying to explain that to Caleb, not when he is so damn sure of himself. He won’t listen to me. I’d just be wasting my breath.

“Please, Caleb,” I try pleading instead. “I don’t want to be here for this. She is going to be your wife. I can’t be the other woman…”

“Our situation is not like the typical relationships you are used to,” Caleb says, softening slightly like he’s purposefully trying to be kinder – more understanding. He doesn’t know how damn patronizing he sounds. “I’m a king. I can have any number of relationships I choose with whomever I choose.”

“I don’t want that for myself,” I say.

“You won’t have it,” Caleb says. “Your only lover will be me.” His fingers curl tighter around my shoulders, biting into my skin. He’s not just stating what he believes to be facts; this is a warning. I will not take other lovers, or they will likely be killed. I can read between the lines well enough.

“Caleb, I can’t do this…”

“You can, and you will,” Caleb says. “I’ve already started to make arrangements. The two of you will forever be separate. You won’t even walk past each other in the hallways. It will be like the other doesn’t exist.”

“But she will be Queen,” I say. This means, I’ll be the one kept to the shadows, forced to hide away while Annabelle attends all the events. If she starts coming down the same hallway as me, only one of us will be asked to move. It’s not going to be the Queen. “Please, Caleb. Just let me leave.”.

“No,” he says sharply. “And do not ask again.”

With a disgusted snarl, he drops his hands away from me, then turns and heads to the door – just as Bethany is returning with two suitcases.

“Take those back to storage,” Caleb barks at her. “Harper will never leave this palace while I’m still breathing.”

Bethany dips her head while glancing sideways at me. “Of course, my King.” She cannot tell the King, no, but she’s still looking to me for what she should do.

I close my eyes and give her a stilted nod.

Without his approval, I wouldn’t be able to take one foot out of the palace without being dragged back. He’s probably on his way to tell the guards right now to keep a closer eye on me, in case I try to run again.

Bethany wheels the suitcases back into the hall. Caleb waits for her to leave, then follows her out the door without looking back.

When they are both gone, I gaze longingly at my pile of clothes. I thought I was so close to freedom, but I wasn’t. It had been an illusion; I wasn’t close at all.

Picking up the dress on top, I hold it against me, trying to imagine myself wearing it while I walk as a free woman down one of the streets on my pack lands.

It’s a nice little dream. Impossible but nice.

I draw my hand down the fabric, pressing it to my body, when I feel something oddly shaped in the pocket. Digging into it, I fish out a pendant necklace.

The one Samuel gave me. The one he kept. The one he asked Bethany to give back to me.

I wonder what our lives would have been like I had never been disgraced. We would have married, most likely, and I’d be Luna of our pack.

Would we be happy right now? Would we have children?

My feelings for Samuel have changed in the past few months. I’m not sure I would have loved him forever if we had married… If Caleb never came around…

But it still would have been a good life, with children and friends. Family. Purpose, as a Luna.

What is my life now?

A harem girl. Even favored, I’m just a tool for my King’s pleasure. He’s said that only his mate will have children, so I’ll never have my own. And now, I won’t even get to stand beside him at events. I’ll be some kind of shadow mistress.

It hurts. It all hurts.

There has to be something I can do to save myself from this fate. But what?

Another week passes, and soon, it’s time for the Alpha Council to return. I stand off to the side in the Hall, surrounded by the other harem members, as each Alpha and his entourage are introduced to the room of supporters and advisors. King Caleb is mysteriously absent, but that’s fine with me.

We haven’t seen much of each other since our last argument. That was fine with me. Every time I faced him, my chest ached.

Then, the announcer declares, “Alpha Samuel of the Riverwood Pack, accompanied by his mate, Leah.”

I look over, surprised to find Samuel entering alone. Leah was introduced. Where is she?

Samuel keeps looking behind him as he enters the Hall as if something is wrong.

A sinking feeling pushes down on my gut. Caleb promised he would get the truth from Leah when she arrived, but he’d also promised that I would be there.

Has he moved on his own? Has he taken Leah without me?

Gods, he’s going to actually torture her if I’m not there to stop him.

Pushing through the crowd, I go to Samuel. “Where’s Leah?” I ask.

He still seems somewhat dazed and keeps looking back at the door to the hall.

“We were separated. The guards said she’d be right behind me…”

Caleb’s made his move then.

“I’ll find her,” I tell him and rush toward the door.

I have to find her – before Caleb kills her.

Chapter 133

There are two floors that I know Caleb would take someone to interrogate them. The first is the dungeon, where he frightens and tortures. The next is the floor up from the dungeon, where interrogation rooms are set up, cold tile rooms with one-way windows like in police stations.

I can’t waste time guessing incorrectly. Caleb won’t take much backtalk from Leah before he starts adding pain into the mix.

Even so, the dungeon is messier. It is reserved for the lowest of the low, in morality and society.

As Leah hasn’t killed anyone, and as she’s Luna of the Riverwood Pack, I take my guess that Caleb has placed her in an interrogation. room and not a dungeon cell.

I rush down the stairs, taking two at a time in some places to reach the correct floor. Once there, I throw open the door. When I see Tristan standing in the hallway, I know I picked the right place.

He spots me instantly, then turns to face me. “You don’t want to go in there.”

“Leah is my sister,” I say. “And Caleb already agreed to let me be there for this. I don’t know why he’s going back on it now.”

“Maybe he’s trying to protect you,” Tristan says.

“Bullshit,” I snap. “This happened to me. I don’t need protection from it. What I need is the truth.”

Tristan’s bored stare pushes down on me, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, after studying me for a minute, he stands to the side.

Frustrated, I push past him and throw open the door he had been guarding.

Inside, Leah is sitting on an uncomfortable metal chair. Her arms are crossed over her chest, and her chin is lowered. She’s slouching, as if she’s trying to make herself appear small.

Caleb towers over her, glaring down from where he stands directly in front of her. The torture, it seems, hasn’t started yet, but if the fire of rage in Caleb’s eyes is anything to go off of, the knives or claws are going to break out very soon.

As I enter the room, Caleb and Leah both look at me, Caleb with annoyance, and Leah with relief. She thinks I’m going to save her from him. She has no idea that she is right where I want her to be.

My loyalty to Leah will only keep Caleb from killing or permanently maiming her. I have no problem with him wanting to instill the fear of the gods into her, especially if it leads to the truth.

I have lived in disgrace for far too long, without even understanding the circumstances of the evening. After everything I’ve been through and everything I’ve remembered, I’m determined to find out what happened and why.

Leah might be the only one with those answers.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Caleb says, his voice a low grumble.

“You promised,” I remind him.

He chuffs in response but turns his attention back to Leah.

“Harper, you have to help me. It pains me to say this, truly! But I think our King has lost his mind…”

A low growl rumbles from the back of Caleb’s throat.

Leah immediately cowers on the chair. “Please, Harper. Talk some sense into him. He thinks I did something to you at the club that night…”

Looking down at her, I lift my chin ever so slightly. “And… Did you?”

The color drains from Leah’s face right along with her unearned righteous indignation. She has no moral leg to stand on and everyone knows it.

“How could you accuse me of something like that?” Leah says. “Your own sister…”

“It is precisely because you are my sister than I can accuse you,” I tell her. For too long, I let her push me around, but no longer. If she did something to me that night, I will find out about it and she will face the appropriate punishment. That’s all there is to it. “I’m remembering things, Leah.”

“The quicker you reveal what you know, the less pain you will be forced to endure,” Caleb growls.

“You wouldn’t let him hurt me, Harper?” Fear undercuts her voice and makes her eyes wide. She’s still looking at me for a rescue. How can I possibly make it clearer that she is as much an enemy to me as she is to Caleb?

“Why shouldn’t I? You drugged me that night, triggering my heat, and then left me there to be assaulted by whatever brute came along. I was so damn lucky that Caleb was the one who found me. If it had been someone else…”

I shuddered, just thinking about it.

“I know it was you, Leah. I’ve been having visions… memories resurface, of you putting something in my drink.”

Leah looks from me to Caleb, down to where Caleb’s hands are turning claw-like. His eyes are flashing red as well. It won’t be long before he shifts, enraged.

Leah closes her eyes. She must attempt to breathe deeply, but her breaths are stuttered with nervousness and fear.

“I didn’t mean for you to get hurt…” she says softly, reluctantly, as if the words are being physically pulled from her throat. “None of this would have happened if you would have just stepped aside and let me have Samuel.”

There it is, the admittance of truth and the motive behind it. She wanted Samuel for herself and she was going to stop at nothing to have him, even if that meant drugging me and hoping some alpha would use me to my disgrace.

“Did you know that drugging me, causing my heat, would trigger a rut in an alpha?” I asked.

“Does it matter if she knew?” Caleb demands. “She admitted she had done this terrible act. Now should surely be the time to kill her.”

“Kill me?!” Leah yelped.

“She is my sister,” I told Caleb. “I want to know the full extent of her crime. I would know whether she was ignorant or truly evil enough to facilitate what could have been true harm to me.”

Caleb turns his full attention back to Leah. “Answer her. Did you know?”

“I d-didn’t. No! Of course, I didn’t. Harper, you can’t think that.”

She’s arguing too much, a telltale sign that she isn’t being truthful.

Old pain I had thought long ago buried rises up from within me like a zombie out of his grave. I had already written off Leah as someone who hated me. But I never would have fathomed how much until right at this moment.

She could have drugged me in ignorance. Could have thought I might have stumbled home at 3 in the morning smelling of booze. Maybe she didn’t know that she was leaving me so vulnerable. Any lesser Alpha might have bitten me in my delirious state. I could be some stranger’s mistress right at this moment.

But it’s more likely that she knew what she’d be doing to me. Maybe she thought I’d die in the process. Some Alphas in rut are driven to madness. They might have ripped out my throat.

All so that she could have for herself the life I’d been living.

“Would you have cared if I died?” I ask her. I already know the answer. As she looks back at me, her eyes go frosty and cold.

She doesn’t say the words aloud, but I can feel them anyway.

I know, that not only would she have not minded if I died, but she would have preferred it.

Chapter 134

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Leah spits at me. “I didn’t admit to anything.”

“You don’t have to,” I tell her. “I can see the truth in your eyes. I know how much you despise me. I never thought you would go so low as to terrorize me like this. Even then, when I suspected and everyone told me I was being vicious towards you, I believed them. I thought, how could one sister do this to another?”

“You are the one who acted all high and mighty,” she snaps. “Everything I’ve ever done has been to claim what should have been mine to start with.”

For her to believe that she must feel no sisterly devotion towards me even slightly. She only ever wanted my life to be her own, even at the cost of my life, my dignity, and my safety.

Caleb has clearly had enough of the venom spewing from her lips. Glaring at her, he says, “I wonder how Samuel would feel if he knew you have done all this to the woman he loved?” His glance shifted toward the door. “Perhaps we should ask him.”

At that moment, the door opened, and Samuel burst into the room with Tristan following.

Samuel’s eyes were alight with his own fury, his own rage.

Leah jumps out of the chair, rushing to her feet. Caleb places a strong hand on her shoulder and shoves her straight back down into it.

“Stand again without being told to, and I will remove your legs,” Caleb growls.

Leah grips the sides of the chair, her face as white as a ghost. “Samuel, I can explain…”

“You don’t have to. I heard everything.” He dips his head to the side, gesturing to the window built into one wall of the room. From this side, it seems like a mirror. “I could see you through there.” His hands curl into fists. “I knew you could be vicious, even conniving at times. But to do that to your own sister – and to me, the man you claim to love…”

“Samuel… please…” Tears well up in her eyes. “You have to believe me. I didn’t mean to.”

“That’s not true, Leah. Stop lying. You did mean to, or else you wouldn’t have put something in Harper’s drink and left her there. Or you would have spoken up after, instead of letting the pack tear Harper down. Hells, even your own family faced ridicule because of those actions, and you never said a word.”

I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen Samuel this viscerally angry. Perhaps that night after the attack, when he had begged me to run away with him.

“I’ve had enough,” Samuel says. “Of you. Of all of this. I’m divorcing you for this, Leah. You can find your own way back to pack lands if they even release you from this place.”

“Samuel, you can’t let them keep me here!” she shouts, leaning forward in the chair.

“Watch me,” Samuel replies. With that, he turns and walks straight out of the room. He doesn’t once look back, not even toward me. It’s as if he’s written us all off. I wonder if he’ll just leave the palace and go home. With the bad blood between them, Caleb isn’t likely to stop him, not even to force him to participate in the Alpha Council.

“Well,” Caleb says, once Samuel is gone. “I think it’s time we kill her.”

“We can’t,” I say. As pissed and hurt as I am, I can’t let Caleb kill my sister. She’s vile and treacherous, but she’s still my flesh and blood.

“I must be hearing things,” Caleb grumbles. “Because I know I did not hear one of my loyal subjects object with her King.”

“You did hear it, and I’ll say it again. You can’t kill my sister.”

“I can’t?” Caleb steps around Leah, ignoring her and her pale face entirely to focus primarily on me. He leans close, danger in his eyes, jaw clenched, teeth grit together. “Do not ever tell me what I can and cannot do, consort. Or have you forgotten yourself?”

Maybe I have. With everything Caleb and I have been through together over the course of my being here, maybe it was so easy to think we might have the kind of relationship where he would spare my sister just from me asking him.

Since Annabelle’s arrival, I haven’t really known what to think or to believe. Whatever affections Caleb says he has for me feel fleeting, as changing as the tides.

“She’s my sister.” That’s all I can really say. I have no other means of defense.

Caleb glares down at me for another moment, his breaths huffing, before he growls, grabs me by the wrist, and yanks me out into the hallway. He does not release me, dragging me along behind him, all the way back up the stairs and to my room. There, with the door closed behind us, Caleb turns on me.

“You cannot undermine me in front of others,” he snaps.

I blink once, twice. Was that what had him so angry? It’s not that I wanted him to save my sister; it was because I didn’t ask submissively enough?

“Caleb…”

“They cannot know of my softness for you, Harper.”

“They… who?” I ask. The only people in the room were Tristan, Leah, and presumably a few other guards on the other side of the window. All of whom should be loyal to Caleb.

“Anyone,” he says fiercely.

A sliver of fear runs through me, but I have no idea if this is Caleb’s paranoia talking, or if I have actual legitimate reason for concern.

“Caleb,” I say again, letting some of the fear come into my voice.

It splashes over him like cold water. Wincing, he takes a step back from me. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply. When he opens his eyes again, they lack the fierce intensity they carried only a moment before.

“Tell me what you want me to do with your sister,” he says.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “I don’t want her dead, but she shouldn’t just get away with what she has done. She needs to face some kind of consequence. For her entire life, she’s avoided getting into any kind of trouble.”

“We could send her to the Coliseum.”

“That’s as good as killing her,” I said. “She’s even less adept at holding a blade than I was. At least I had known some manual labor which gave me some sort of strength. She’s been spoiled her entire life.”

Caleb considers my words. “We could punish her by having her work some physical labor. For proprieties sake, we will have to pretend she’s been executed, but secretly, she will be living out her time as a servant.”

I wasn’t sure if this was the best solution, but for now, it would have to do. At least she wouldn’t be killed. Although to her, maybe this would be worse.

“I’ll take care of everything,” Caleb says.

“Thank you, Caleb,” I tell him, meaning it. He didn’t have to make these exceptions for me. He could have easily just had Leah killed and not listened to me at all.

That he took the time to listen means something to me.

If only he didn’t have to marry Annabelle…

The next morning, the Alpha Council reconvenes. Samuel, however, is missing.

He is not found anywhere within the palace, nor the capital. It is as if he vanished into thin air.

Chapter 135

Caleb hates the Alpha Council, now more than ever before. The last time they convened, the entire capital had been besieged by bears after the betrayal of Caleb’s Gamma. This already painted the council in a negative light for Caleb, even though it had no real fault in what happened.

Now, however, with the proceedings underway, the Alphas are bickering and posturing. Everyone is speaking but no one is actually saying anything.

“We need to build up our defenses against the north,” says one of the Alphas. Caleb just barely keeps from rolling his eyes. Of course, they need to build up their defenses. That’s why they are having this Council, to determine the best course of action to do so.

Another says, “We should place more forces along the border,” which is at least the semblance of an idea, even if it’s a faulty one. For one, the bears of the north have already infiltrated once already. Secondly, the northern border is a very long stretch of land, most of it out in desolate, freezing cold locations.

They cannot realistically protect the entire border.

“We just need more soldiers,” argues another Alpha.

Sitting on the throne, Caleb rubs his forehead, aching for relief from this asinine endeavor. He can’t remember why Tristan convinced him this would be a good idea. All of these Alphas seem utterly clueless.

Caleb tries to rally his patience though, remembering at least, that he needs to keep on the good side of some of them. Even if their ideas are terrible, it’s important that they feel heard.

Tristan spots Caleb’s annoyance from across the hall and already starts walking closer.

“My King, perhaps you could grace us with your ideas,” one of the Alphas said.

Then, very quietly under this Alpha’s breath, Caleb hears a whisper. Perhaps, because it was uttered so lightly, they thought an Alpha of Caleb’s caliber would not hear it.

They were severely mistaken.

“If only Evan sat on the throne…”

Caleb saw red. In a flash of muscle and power, he leaped from the throne, careened through the air, and collided with the lesser alpha who had dared to utter those words.

The shift threatened, his wolf pulsing under Caleb’s skin, begging for release. The wolf wanted to sink its teeth into this man’s neck and tear out his throat.

Caleb so nearly let it, facing his own bloodlust. Yet still, he fought it back. Not for his sake, or for this lesser alpha’s, but for the sake of his kingdom.

Tearing the throat out of a pack alpha would not be looked upon kindly.

Even if that pack alpha deserved it.

The lesser alpha whimpering, tilted his neck to the side, offering his throat in a sign of reverence and submission.

Such weakness isn’t worth slaughtering.

“Alpha,” Tristan says as he walks closer. Caleb can hear each footstep like it’s a hammer on a drum. Despite the bored expression Tristan wears, his heartbeat races out of control.

He believes Caleb will kill this man. He doesn’t know that Caleb has already convinced himself not to.

“Might I speak with you privately, my King?” Tristan asks, bowing low. He’s offering Caleb a chance to escape this situation without having to explain himself.

Caleb knows he needs to take this offered escape or he’ll only lash out further.

“Very well,” Caleb says, though it’s difficult to form words. His own throat had already begun the shift.

Tristan nods and leads Caleb toward a side room. Caleb follows him there. As Tristan closes the door behind them, Caleb walks to one of the chairs and forces himself to sit, forcing himself to calm.

“You nearly killed that man,” Tristan says when they are alone.

“Did you hear what he said?” Caleb asks. “He said he wished Evan was on the throne…”

Tristan’s eyes widen slightly. “Did he truly say that?”

“I heard it,” Caleb snaps. He knows what Tristan is thinking. This could be the paranoia again, creating whispers where there were none.

Maybe he had the right to worry. Perhaps Caleb had imagined it.

But what if he hadn’t?

“Your brother’s name has not been uttered in this hall in a very long time,” Tristan says. “The older Alphas would know better, and the younger ones should be too young to remember.”

“I heard his name, Beta,” Caleb growls. “I did not imagine it.”

He hopes.

“Yes, my King. Perhaps, for now, we should take a recess from the Alpha Council. Tempers were flaring even before…” Tristan clears his throat. “It might do everyone some good to separate for a time.”

Caleb hates giving in to others’ ideas, but he can still feel his anger coursing through him. He needs time to collect himself or he might very well lash out a second time. His willpower might not be as strong again.

“Very well,” Caleb pushes himself out of his chair. His muscles flex on their own, and his fists clench, open, clench. So much energy, but he has nowhere for it to go. He half wants to take off into a sprint, half wants to break something.

What he needs is Harper, but he hates that he needs anyone.

He can do this alone. Harper is a weakness, a crutch.

As King, he has to be able to stand alone.

When the Alpha Council quits for the day, word reaches me fairly quickly about Caleb lashing out, though no one really knows what the trigger was. Some rumors suggest that Caleb grows more unstable by the day, but no one dares say such things in well-lit hallways or rooms. Those whispers are delegated entirely to shadowy corners and darkened alleyways.

Worried about Caleb’s health and well-being, I leave my room and head to Caleb’s door. Unfortunately, a pair of guards block the way. Worse, I’m not the first one to have arrived there, seeking an audience with the King.

Annabelle is also there, speaking with the guards.

“You have to let me in to see him,” she says. “Do you know who I am?”

“Yes, ma’am,” one of the guards says, entirely unaffected.

“I’m not one of the harem,” Annabelle insists, as if there’s been some kind of misunderstanding.

“No, ma’am.”

“I’m the King’s betrothed.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“So you should let me inside!”

“No, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am.”.

Annabelle huffs in frustration, her gaze drifting up and down the hallway. When she sees me, she snaps, “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to see King Caleb,” I said. “I heard about what happened.”

“He doesn’t want to see anyone,” Annabelle says. “That includes you.”

“I would prefer if I heard that from the guards themselves,” I say.

Annabelle narrows her eyes. “Harper. This is one of those times when you need to learn to step aside. Have I not already made our positions clear? Whatever you once were to King Caleb, you are no longer. I am to be his one and only. His support and his strength. And his Luna. Do I make myself clear?”

“Until he dismisses me, I am in my King’s service,” I say. I’m not thrilled about being at Caleb’s beck and call. I’d rather he let me go and focus on Annabelle or whoever else he intended to marry instead. But that’s not the hand I’ve been dealt.

Caleb still wants me here, and no one is going to tell me to leave but him.

“Well, I wouldn’t get too comfortable if I were you,” Annabelle says. “I’m sure he’ll ask you to leave sooner, rather than later.”

Chapter 136

“Actually,” the guard begins, glancing between the two of us. “King Caleb has already given Harper permission to enter his chambers as she desires.”

Annabelle’s entire face flashes bright red.

I very nearly smirk with satisfaction, but I bite it back at the last minute. It wouldn’t do to be smug right now. After all, I am not the one who is going to marry Caleb. I might win this battle, but Annabelle will still win the war for Caleb’s affections.

For now, however, I wait for her to step aside and then enter the room with the guards’ permission.

As soon as I am within it, they close the door behind me, sealing me in the darkened room. Despite it only being midday, the light in the room is dim. The curtains have been drawn to cover the windows and all of the lights are off.

“Caleb?” I call out. It’s hard to explain how or why, but I can feel his presence in this room. I know he’s here somewhere, even if I can’t see or hear him.

If only my senses were as strong as his, I bet I’d be able to see him in an instant, just as I am certain he’s been clocking my every step since I walked into this room.

“Caleb, I know you are in here. Where are you?”

Still, he doesn’t answer. Not for a very long moment.

Then, like a rumble in the dark, he says, “I nearly killed a man, and I have no idea if he deserved it.”

Following the sound of Caleb’s voice, I walk toward the edge of the room where I finally find Caleb slumped on a chair pulled against the wall. Shadows hide most of his face, but even in the dark, I see the occasional flash of red over his eyes.

“Can I touch you?” I ask him.

“Please,” he replies. Closing his eyes, he dips his head forward.

Slowly, as to not startle him, I raise my hand, bury my fingers in his hair, and begin to lightly massage his scalp. As I work, his body starts to dip, some of the tension releasing from within it.

Softly, he begins to speak once more. “You have a strange power over me, consort. Why is it that only you seem to be able to ease my wolf?”

“I don’t know,” I admit, my tone as gentle.

“Have you done this for other Alphas?” His words add bite, “For your Samuel?”

“No. I’ve never touched a man the way I’ve touched you.”

“Good.” Satisfaction rumbles through his voice.

It isn’t fair for him to say those things, to want me to be his alone, while I cannot expect the same devotion from him. Even now, I think about Annabelle waiting for Caleb on the other side of his door.

“Annabelle tried to see you,” I say.

“She does not need to see me like this.”

“She is your betrothed.”

“What does that matter?” he asks. Opening his eyes, he glances up at me. I still my ministrations, staring back.

My eyes are adjusting to the dark now, and I can more clearly see the planes of his face. The proud set of his jaw. The intensity of his eyes.

“She’s going to be your wife. Don’t you think she should be the one to help you like this?” I ask.

“She is incapable.”

“How can you tell if you don’t let her try?”

“I just know.”

“That doesn’t make sense. You have to let her try.”

In an instant, Caleb pushes himself up to his feet. My hands fall away from his scalp, but he catches me by the wrists, keeping them prisoner.

“Why do you care so much about her?” Caleb growls. “She is not a threat to your position here. I’ve told you, nothing will change between us.

“It’s not my position I’m worried about,” I tell him. It’s my heart. “You know I don’t want to be the second woman in your life.”

“You aren’t second,” Caleb insists. “You are simply another.”

“That means second!” I snap.

He glares down at me. “You demand too much of your King. Have I not gifted you a life of luxury and privilege? Have I not saved you from the squalor of your previous life?”

“You’ve denied me my request,” I tell him. “So I will ask you again. Release me and let me be free.”

His hands tighten around my wrists. “Never.”

I wince in pain, and he immediately loosens his hold. His eyes soften too, losing some of their edge. I don’t think he meant to hurt me.

“It’s getting worse, isn’t it? The paranoia, and the pain. The headaches…” I say.

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to,” he says.

That means yes, it is. This further means that even with my help, Caleb is struggling against the growing darkness in his mind.

“Was there some kind of trigger?” I ask. “If we can narrow down what sets you off, perhaps we can keep it from happening.”

Caleb fully releases his hold on my wrists now. I drop my hands to my sides.

“I thought one of the Alphas said something. A whisper. It set me off.” He looks away. “Tristan believes that I only imagined it.”

“What did he say?” I ask, knowing I’m taking a risky chance here. If Caleb repeats what was said, he might lose himself to the rage again. I can only hope that the calming effect I have on him helps keep the fury at bay.

It’s worked so far. Mostly.

“He said he wished my brother Evan sat on the throne.”

I remember Prince Evan and the scandal of his disappearance. I remember the rumors that swirled around that time, many citing that Caleb had killed him for the throne.

“That name haunts you,” I say.

“As it should,” Caleb says. Lifting his hands in front of him, he stares. down at his palms. “I should be haunted for what I’ve done. I murdered my brother.”

“Caleb…”

“And I still don’t know if he deserved it.”

Caleb lifts his hands and buries them in his hair. From his throat, he releases a guttural yell of frustration and pent-up pain.

“I deserve every minute of the torture I’ve suffered since that moment,” he says. “I’m being punished for what I’ve done.”

“That’s not true.”

“You don’t know. You have no idea.”

“So tell me!” I shout. “Why carry the burdens alone? They weigh down on you so much. Why not share them?”

Caleb shakes his head. “I have earned this crown. For Evan to be remembered like this… They do not want me on the throne. They are using him as a symbol of my lack of control. Soon they will attempt to overthrow me again.”

“Who?” I ask.

“Everyone,” he growls.

I try once more to reach out for Caleb, to attempt to soothe him, but he swats my hands away.

“Caleb,” I say.

He shakes his head, shutting me out.

“You could be with them,” he says, his voice twisted and strange.

“I’m not. You know I’m not,” I say. “I’m only on your side.”

“That’s what they all will say.” He looks at me again, and his eyes are wild, flashing red.

His paranoia is growing worse, and I have no idea how to reach him.

Chapter 137

Caleb once more sits on his throne in front of the Alpha Council, staring down at them in judgment and distrust. His earlier meeting with Harper had only helped him somewhat, but now that they were separated, Caleb’s dark thoughts were returning with a vengeance, somehow even worse than before.

When he left his chambers, Annabelle was waiting for him. She smiled and seemed kind enough, though remained quite insistent that she join him to his afternoon council. Especially since Harper wasn’t going to be joining him.

Now, she sits off to the side of the stage, too close to be proper for a woman unrelated to the King, but not close enough to be his betrothed.

This started rumors among the council. Caleb could see them forming, questions raising. Curious eyes would look between Annabelle and Caleb and back again.

Caleb couldn’t care less about their curiosity. Let them look and wonder. Let them suspect all they want.

Their loyalty is the only thing that truly interests Caleb.

He does not trust the Alpha Council. What reason does he have to do so?

All of these vultures are thirsting for power. They remain at his side only because George is too weak to woo them away. If anyone stronger than Caleb tried to come along, Caleb would surely lose their faith.

Though Caleb would be the one to have the final laugh. There was no werewolf alive who could match his strength and speed. Any they could put forward to try would quickly die at Caleb’s hand.

Caleb spends most of the meeting carefully inspecting each attendant with his eyes, trying to discern from appearance alone who might be the most likely to betray him.

Caleb knows his paranoia is getting the better of him. In a perfect world, Annabelle, as his chosen mate would be able to calm the raging wolf inside of him.

But she does not. Alternatively, her very presence seems to annoy the hell out of him.

The Council proceeds on as before, with each Alpha bickering, until Annabelle stands up and clearing her throat, draws the attention of the room.

Caleb, as with all the other Alphas, turns their eyes to her.

“We have so much that divides us,” Annabelle says. “With the recent unpleasantness, it’s easy for us to be at each other’s throats, or to distrust each other. I think the problem might be that we just don’t have enough good news to share between us.”

The Alpha Council all look at each other. Caleb continues his search of their faces. Annabelle’s conversation has already bored him. Though he notices, at the side of the room, Tristan seems interested in what she has to stay. Even trusting Tristan’s judgement as he does, he can’t bring himself to care about any of it.

Not even when she continues. “I have some great news to share! And I hope my King will forgive me for sharing without his prior permission, but I’m sure you’ve all heard the rumors anyway!”

Caleb rubs his forehead, a headache coming on.

“King Caleb has recently proposed to me, and I have accepted!” Annabelle says, bright and bubbly.

The room full of Alphas politely claps – except Caleb, who continues to rub at his forehead.

“I’m sorry,” Annabelle says, glancing back at him on his throne. “But everyone was so down. I thought some good news might lift everyone’s spirits.”

Caleb knows he should have an opinion about this. Whether its annoyance at her announcing the engagement without communicating with him, or whether its satisfaction that everyone in the room seems pleased with the paring, indicating it as he suspected, a good match.

But the reality is, Caleb just doesn’t care one way or the other. He’s utterly and completely indifferent – to Annabelle and to his engagement with her.

What do any of these frivolous things matter when everyone is plotting against Caleb and his hold on the throne?

“Are you mad?” Annabelle asks.

“No,” Caleb tells her, but does not elaborate.

His response seems to satisfy her regardless, even if his sour expression does not match her joy.

I follow Bethany down the winding hallways of the wing of the palace that contain offices and studies. When I mentioned my desire to learn more about Caleb’s family and history, she claimed she knew just the place to take me to uncover more truths.

Without knowing exactly where I’m going, I feel uneasy, but I trust Bethany, and she seems to think that where she’s taking me would make for a nice surprise. I’m also slightly suspicious that she thinks we might be thrown out of this wing and is trying to protect me with plausible deniability.

My trust in her keeps me going, and fortunately for us both, we do not encounter anyone else on our trek to Bethany’s surprise location.

Once we reach there, she glances back and grins at me. “Ready for this?”

As I have no idea what to expect, I just shrug.

She pushes open the door. Immediately, my breath catches in my throat. Through the open door is the largest library I’ve ever seen, with lines and lines of stacks of books. Every wall of the large room is filled with books. A few tables are aligned in the middle of the library. A pair of computers are nearby, with their desks turned against the side of the staircases.

“This is amazing,” I say, wonder in my voice.

“Welcome to the palace library,” Bethany says. “I thought you might like it.”

I do. I really do.

“I know the books are tempting,” Bethany continues. “But if you want to research recent history, where you need to look is here…”

I follow along behind her into the room. She crosses across the room, walks around the tables, and gestures to one of the desks holding a computer.

“What’s this?” I ask. “Don’t tell me I finally get reconnected to the internet.”

“No,” Bethany says with a hint of regret. “But what you will find here is a copy of every single newspaper in the history of the entire Kingdom. All are scanned and stored on these computers. All you have to do is type in a date, and bam!”

She touches the mouse, bringing the computer to life. The screen immediately shows a search bar, complete with a drop down menu for a date to be filled in.

“I have to get back,” Bethany says. “But with the Alpha Council going on, not many people should bother you in here. You should have all the free time and space to do what you need to.”

“Thank you, Bethany.”

I haven’t given her specific details of what I’m searching for, but as a servant, she often knows things anyway. As Caleb attacking another alpha for uttering his brother’s name is a rumor in the palace, Bethany can likely put the pieces together.

For her to bring me here, even knowing that…

It feels good to have her support.

After she leaves me, I turn toward the computer. First, I need a date.

I try to calculate how long ago all of this occurred. It had been before my disgrace, but after Caleb came of age.

That doesn’t totally narrow it down, but it gives me a place to start looking.

Now, I just need to find the truth.

Chapter 138

In the library, I manage to narrow down the dates to find Caleb’s coronation. Then, moving backwards, I try to discover the exact moment the news stopped talking about Evan, by searching for the first time that he’s mentioned.

I find Prince Evan’s obituary, which sounds very by the business and not terribly personal at all. It includes the dates of his birth and death as well as who he is survived by. There is no mention of his cause of death. All that is mentioned of any brotherly tension is that the crown has now passed to Caleb.

While I’m not terribly shocked that the news media withheld many of the details that the royal family clearly wanted hidden, I am still disappointed to come away with absolutely nothing.

Well, at least not yet.

Clicking on the previous newspaper, I go back in time. This one, at first glance, seems equally as tight-lipped. Yet as I look at it closer, I start to see more of Evan threaded throughout, though every time he is mentioned, it is spoken cryptically.

He is mentioned still as Crown Prince Evan, where in every following newspaper, it had read Prince Evan and Crown Prince Caleb.

In this paper, before Evan’s death, the duties have switched. I suppose, as Caleb was the King, I had naturally assumed he was the older brother. The details were fuzzy to me in my younger days; I had so much more personal things to worry about than royal politics.

But now that I’m looking at it, it makes sense for Caleb to take over after Evan’s untimely death.

Or his murder.

This newspaper was from the day before Evan’s death was announced, perhaps his last day on earth. Most of the mentions of him are innocuous. He held the flag for a race. He shook hands at a parade.

Then, buried in the back of the paper, in the gossip section, there was a grainy photo of a man who looked a lot like Evan in the park with an unknown young woman. The caption of the photo makes no mention of him, but I know Caleb’s face better than any other man’s in the world. And Evan looks very much like his younger brother.

Maybe it’s nothing. Chances are, it’s nothing.

Yet something about that photo stops me in my tracks. It takes me a while to realize why.

It’s their body language.

Evan and this unknown woman are facing each other, their heads bowed together.

Even the caption caught on the tension, reading, Young Love?

The editor of this newspaper had to know they were taking their life in their hands posting potential scandal about the royal family. Was that why they didn’t use any names?

Everyone probably knew, though. Well, at least, those who knew what the royal family looked like knew.

The question remained, however. Who was this woman?

And where is she now?

I selected to print that page of the newspaper. The printer under the desk whirled to life.

Grabbing the sheet of paper, I fold it up and put it into my pocket.

I probably have enough to go on, but out of curiosity, I click to go back to the newspaper from the day before…

Evan’s face fills the screen, covering the entirety of the front page.

The headline read Crown Prince Evan Beloved By All.

Beneath the large photo is an extensive interview with Evan himself.

Oddly, it mostly sounds like public relations non-speak. All of the questions are redirected to talk about how much Evan loves his country and his family.

There’s something very off about it. It doesn’t feel like someone would actually write for themselves.

“What are you?!” snaps an angry voice from behind me.

I jump at the sudden noise. It was so quiet in this library up until only a minute ago, that I truly thought I was alone. How long has the intruder been watching me?

Turning around, I worry I might be faced with a nosy guard.

My stomach drops when I’m faced with the former king, Caleb’s father.

Carelessly, he tosses me to the side. I fall down onto the ground and then roll across the floor.

Hector does not wait for me to stop before he starts walking toward me.

Fear rises in my heart. Hector’s ruthlessness reminds me so much of Caleb, but without the mercy and favoritism Caleb already shows me, only the murderous desire remains.

Glancing around, I frantically look for something to help defend me. I have my small dagger, but against the former Alpha King, what chance would I hope to have?

“You shouldn’t go around, sticking your nose into other people’s business,” Hector growls. “You had a pampered little life, protected by my son. Why would you change everything? What did you say – to help him? You are a damn liar.”

Hector steps closer, his heels crunching on the broken glass and technology of the broken monitor.

Just as he starts to reach for me once more, a new voice shouts from the doorway.

“Don’t touch her.”

I know that angry growl, and it makes my heart soar.

“Caleb…”

“Stay out of this, son,” Hector says.

“That is a member of my harem, father. She belongs to me, and I will not suffer anyone else to touch her, even to punish her.”

“Even me?”

Caleb walks closer. His eyes are on his father’s face, his irises flashing red.

Hector clearly has his answers. “Do you even know what she’s done?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Caleb says.

“Caleb…”

“Silence,” Hector snaps, just as Caleb says, “Stay out of this, Harper.”

Then they growl at each other.

Caleb is younger and presumably stronger. With him in my corner, I don’t feel like I’m near death as I was just a few minutes ago.

But there’s something about Hector that feels vicious to me.

Why would he care so much about me looking up old articles about Prince Evan?

Chapter 139

“Perhaps you have forgotten, Father, but I am the King of this kingdom now,” Caleb growls. “As such, I am the only one who can command or punish the members of my harem. Harper is not just a member, but my favor.”

“She was looking up information about Evan, and Caleb,” Hector replies, just as furious.

“I don’t care if she was plotting to stab me in the back, I am the only one to punish her.”

“You are being stubborn and foolish.”

“I am King.” Caleb draws himself up to his full height. His shoulders push back, and his hands curl like claws. His front teeth begin to elongate.

Any moment, he’s going to shift.

Hector must be seeing that too. With a sigh, he lets his shoulders drop slightly, removing some of the obvious tension in his body. It was a clear attempt at de-escalating the situation by taking on a less aggressive posture against his raging son.

“Fine,” Hector says. “Do it your way. But I shouldn’t need to remind you that it’s Annabelle you should be protecting, not this lowly consort. If Annabelle is to be your wife, you need to treat her with more respect than you would show your whores.”

Caleb’s jaw clenches, as he emits a low, dangerous growl.

I really don’t want to see this become something again, so I rush to my feet and hurry toward Caleb.

In front of his father, who already hates me, I can’t ask Caleb to leave or push him away from this challenge of power, but I hope that he can see the worry in my eyes. With luck, that will sway him enough to remove us from this situation.”

“I can explain everything,” I say. “Later.”

“You listen to the honeyed words of a liar, Caleb,” Hector says. “I don’t need to remind you of why that’s a dangerous game to play.”

Caleb stiffens. “No. You don’t.”

Without warning, Caleb grabs me by the arm and drags me out of the room. He walks quickly, not slowing, even as I stumble, my legs somewhat bruised from my tumble.

He doesn’t stop until he’s thrown open the doors of his private chambers and tossed me inside. Behind us, he closes the door with a booming slam.

Before I can even catch my breath, he storms toward me. “Tell me exactly what happened before I arrived. Why were you in the library? What were you searching for that made my father enraged? Why did your handmaiden burst into the Hall searching for me, fearing you were in danger?”

I have answers for all of his questions, except for the last one, which I was very relieved to hear happened.

It seems I have reason to thank Bethany yet again. I owe her a thousand times over by now.

I told Caleb what I could – vaguely. “I wanted to research some of your past so I can better help you in the present. That’s why I was in the library. Your father became enraged when he saw your brother on my screen. And I don’t know how Bethany knew to come get you, but I am relieved she did. I think your father wanted to kill me.”

“He definitely wanted to kill you. If you had been anyone other than my favor, he would have done so without question. You think I am ruthless? You have no idea what life was like under his role. Even as a father, he was vicious and cruel.”

I couldn’t believe that. It also made me feel deep pity for the childhood Caleb experienced. My parents might have become terrible, but in my youth, they treated me like I mattered to them.

Considering all that followed, I did manage to have a childhood I could think of fondly. Caleb, it seems, couldn’t share that experience.

“Caleb -“

“No. Don’t you dare take pity on your King? I don’t want it and I don’t need it.”

I swallow down my sympathy and nod.

For a moment, we stare at each other. Over time, the red eases from his eyes and he seems farther away from shifting than before. That, at least, feels like a victory, even if I feel hollow otherwise.

My position here is perilous on the best days. Now, even Caleb’s own father seems out to get me. What if Caleb isn’t around next time?

I can really only hope that Hector loses enough interest in punishing me to leave me alone.

“He wasn’t wrong about everything,” I say, lowering my chin.

Caleb’s eyes refocus on me. He waits as if expecting me to explain.

“You should be protecting Annabelle, not me. I’m just a consort, and she is -“

“I’m damned tired of everyone telling me what to do,” Caleb huffs.

He takes two steps forward, grabs me by the hips, drags me toward him, and then crashes his mouth down over mine.

He kisses me like he wants to devour me, and I am helpless to take everything he wants to give me. I wrap my arms around his neck, holding on for dear life, as his hands grab my ass and lift me up.

He hauls me over toward his massive bed, then drops us both down onto it. He’s on top of me, pushing me down into the mattress with every square inch of his hard body.

“Caleb,” I gasp when he allows me to come up for breath.

His mouth moves to my neck where he sucks marks down the column of my throat.

“Caleb…” This time, his name comes out like a sigh.

“You are mine,” he growls into my skin. “No one else can have you.

Not to touch. To torture. To kiss. Only me. Only me.”

He’s lost in his possessive desire. And for a time, so am I.

Lovemaking with Caleb is like a whirlwind, and I’m easily swept away.

My thoughts, my worries, all of it is swept aside when I am in the crosshairs of Caleb’s full attention, of his hands and his mouth.

He keeps me occupied for a good long while, and I do my best to return the favor.

By the time we both cross the final precipice of pleasure, we are sweaty and out of breath and holding onto each other as if the world might fall apart if we don’t.

“Caleb…” I say, breathless. We’ve had sex a hundred times before, but each time has felt different than the last. It’s felt more.

This time was no exception.

Spent, he falls down beside me on the bed. His arm stays fixed around my waist, keeping me tucked firmly against him.

We don’t say a word, and for that I’m glad. Speaking might ruin the moment. It could bring back the reality that faces us outside of these walls of his chambers.

Annabelle…

Hector…

The Alpha Council…

Leah…

It’s all too much to bear sometimes.

At least, for the moment, I don’t need to face it.

Turning, I bury my face into Caleb’s chest and pretend that this is all there is.

If I imagine, I can pretend we are at the farmhouse, where we didn’t have any responsibilities other than survival.

Because I know the minute I step out of this bed, and out of this room, everything is going to change again.

Caleb will be King, but I can’t stand to still be his consort.

Maybe this time, knowing the danger I’m in, if I ask again, he will let me go.

Chapter 140

“Caleb…” I begin, speaking softly.

He hums, acknowledging he is listening.

I’m nervous but determined. While I don’t wish to leave Caleb, I can’t stay here, pretending like everything is okay while he proceeds with his engagement.

“You promised you would grant my request…”

“Don’t ask again,” he says, his entire body tensing against mine.

Still, I push forward, however recklessly. “Please let me go free.”

“No,” he replies at once, forceful enough that a growl escapes his throat. “I told you not to ask. Now I am commanding you to do so. Ask again, and there will be consequences.”

I’m not sure I believe him. After all, he’s holding me very gently, despite the clear anger in his voice and the tension of his body.

Even so, however, I don’t feel like I should test my limits. Caleb has been acting erratically as of late, more than usual. If I push him, he might not be able to control himself in delivering punishment.

But that meant, I would have to bury my desire to be free deep down within myself. For me to never ask again meant that he would never release me.

I felt as if I was standing in a long dark tunnel, staring down at an unhappy future ahead of me. Yet there were no other options but to move forward.

With a sigh, I settled more fully against Caleb and accepted the comforts where I could. At least I would likely always have this.

“I won’t let you go,” Caleb says. “You will stay by my side until one of us dies.”

It should be a romantic sentiment, yet with the way he’s expressing it, it seems as though he has a grim future in mind for us – or at least, for himself.

His paranoia makes it difficult for him to see a future for himself that isn’t rife with carnage and betrayal. How stressful it must be to live like that.

I resolve to give him as much peace as I can, even while my own heartaches, with no escape from my own misery.

The longer Caleb holds Harper in his arms, the more clarity he begins to hold in his mind as if the fog is finally lifting, allowing him to see things for how they are.

His condition is only growing worse. He can admit that now, recognizing the aggravated shift that takes over him when the paranoia returns.

Harper wants to be free. He has some affection for her. While he doesn’t understand where her hurt in the situation stems from – wouldn’t anyone want to be with the King, even if only as his consort? Caleb has an impulse to give Harper the things she desires, even her freedom from him.

But, under the circumstances, he fears letting her go would have him succumbing entirely to the encroaching madness. He needed her here beside him.

Being near Harper is the only time he feels sane anymore.

However, for her sake, he will continue to keep her separate from any occasion he knows Annabelle will be. He doesn’t care how far he has to stretch his sanity, he can at least gift Harper that.

After leaving Harper, Caleb returns alone to the Hall to continue on with the Alpha Council.

He knows this farce is necessary to maintain diplomacy between the packs, but the results so far have been lacking at best, and outright frustrating at worst.

All of the plans the pack leaders come up with are either impractical, impossible, or entirely selfish, protecting their own lands while leaving the others more vulnerable to attacks.

Caleb doesn’t contribute much, far too annoyed to engage with any of them at this point, while they argue and bicker with each other.

Even Tristan, who had tried to delegate for a time, seems to have given up now, standing by the wall instead, with his typical bored expression covering his face.

Caleb’s advisors, the ones that are left anyway, are the only means of order remaining in the room. They try to redirect the conversation into something actually helpful. Whether they succeed or not, Caleb isn’t particularly sure, as his mind has begun to wander far away from this room.

Without Harper, the fog once more begins to cloud Caleb’s mind. He tries hard to keep it at by, clinging to his thoughts and doubting every hint of annoyance within him, Does he have reason to distrust these Alphas? Or is it the fog of his mind that gives him doubt?

Being critical helps keep himself in check, at least for a time.

Yet the intrusive thoughts set in quickly and are relentless in attacking Caleb’s mind. Even closing his eyes and focusing, he can find no escape from this onslaught.

So, without even realizing he moved, Caleb blinks his eyes open, and he is standing over a cowering Alpha from a borderland pack. The Alpha is younger, and inexperienced, yet is one of the loudest voices in the room – and the one with the worst ideas.

Now, he looks up at Caleb with fear widening his eyes, his back on the floor. His hands are up in a defensive position, but they are trembling. He must know he would stand no chance against an Alpha as strong as Caleb in a fight.

With his confusion, Caleb can’t remember why he attacked this man. Did he finally meet his limit of patience?

Yet even now, his wolf yearns for blood. Caleb’s own hands shake with the strain of holding back his desire to permanently maim and harm this man.

That kind of punishment should not be wrought upon someone who is only annoying.

Especially when that person is a pack Alpha here for a Council.

“Alpha,” Tristan says from nearby, nearer than he’d been before.

Caleb is starting to have holes now in his memory as well. Troublesome.

Slowly, and with great effort, Caleb pulls back and steps away from the pack Alpha he had shoved to the floor. Immediately, Tristan is there by his side.

“What triggered this?” Tristan whispers.

Caleb wishes he had an answer for him. Instead, he just looks at him. Truly, Caleb has no idea.

Tristan must see that answer in Caleb’s face. “With permission, Alpha, I believe we should suspend the council for now.”

Caleb nods. “I will leave first. Too many people moving…” might trigger him. He didn’t want to say that part allowed, resenting this sudden weakness in himself.

“Very well,” Tristan replies.

Caleb starts making his way to the door. As he does, he feels the eyes of every Alpha in the room upon him. It makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and sends the shivers of paranoia rippling through his mind.

They think you are weak.

They do not respect you.

They are plotting against you.

He does his best to push the thoughts away. He wants to rush from the room before he can hurt anyone else, but that would only show his weakness. He has to walk and be strong.

Behind him, he begins to hear whispers. Among the Alphas? Or in his mind?

He can no longer tell the difference.

“The Alpha King is losing his mind…”

“We need another on the throne…”

“If only his brother Evan was King instead of him…”

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Chapter 111

“I will ask once more before I become a man you will not like,” George says.

“Too late,” I snap.

He glowers at me. “You can speak to insult me, but not to answer my questions. Don’t you know understand the precarious nature of your situation, whore? It is by my will alone that you live or die. I could give the command right now and have this guard snap your neck.”

The guard drops my arm to wrap his hands around my neck.

“Not yet, you imbecile. I need answers first.”

“So you admit you can’t kill me until I tell you what you want,” I say. “Then we’re at an impasse.”

George narrows his eyes. “I don’t have to kill you to hurt you, bitch.” Then, he slaps me across the face with the back of his hand hard. A few rings cut across my skin.

The shock of the sudden pain brings tears to my eyes. I taste blood.

“It seems as if we now have an understanding,” George says, satisfied with himself. “Now. Be a good girl and tell me why you are here.”

I have to tell him something, or I risk being hit again.

“I had nowhere else to go,” I lied.

He hums, seemingly not being able to tell what the truth is.

“Where is King Caleb?” George asks.

I freeze.

“You mean… his body, right, George?” the second guard asks.

George glares at the man. “What did you just call me?”

“I told you,” the first guard hissed.

The second guard doubled down. “Uh, Steward George. You said, King Caleb. But you mean his body right? You told everyone he was dead.”

Both guard’s hands start to loosen on me.

“Of course, I mean his body, you imbeciles,” George says, but he’s a shit liar with one very clear giveaway.

In his eyes, there’s a hint of fear.

He knows Caleb is alive. He knows my being here is a sign that Caleb is close.

He knows all these things, and he’s scared.

It’s not just Caleb that he should be afraid of.

Without the guards holding me tight, I’m able to reach into my pocket, grab my knife, click off the top, and slash, plunging the knife straight into George’s upper chest.

George howls in pain as the guards scramble to hold me back.

“What the fuck?” the first guard gasps.

“Holy shit,” the second guard agrees.

Maybe I’ll die here. Maybe he will finally snap my neck. But I’m going to go down fighting goddamn it.

“You bitch,” George roars. Blood oozes down from the wound, staining Caleb’s dark outfit. “I’m going to kill you!”

He rushes toward me, arms extended toward my throat. Just before he can reach it, something in the distance explodes. The windows rattle. All the men straighten, alarmed.

“What the hell was that?” one of the guards says.

“Caleb,” George growls.

“I thought he was dead,” says the second guard.

“Forget this girl. Get out there and bring the Alpha’s here! I will have my ceremony! I will have my crown!”

“But, sir-“

“Now, damn it!”

The guards stumble out of the room. Unfortunately, new guards step in off the balcony. One with a gun comes toward me.

“Want me to put her down, boss?” he asks, his accent unfamiliar.

“Wait until Caleb arrives. I want him to watch her die.” George spits at me. “His precious favorite. That bastard will learn he has no power here anymore, and I -“

George cuts off at once, hearing a wolf howl in the distance.

My heart leaps into my throat. Caleb.

“Those bastards better hurry upbringing in those Alphas. Call in backup, I want this room surrounded. Once that crown is on my head, he’ll have a hell of a time taking it back.”

The guard makes a call and speaks hurriedly into it in a language I don’t know.

Just as he finishes, the doors to the Hall open once more and the Alphas are brought inside, each accompanied by their own armed guard.

“What is this about?” the Alpha from the Moonlake pack demands.

I see Samuel and Leah among the crowd. I’m glad they are alive, but that is all I feel. When Samuel looks my way, I immediately avert my gaze.

“What was that explosion?” another Alpha asks.

“It doesn’t matter,” George growls. He still has my knife in his shoulder. The Alphas in the front spot it first and then see me.

“Is that Harper?” one asks.

“Ignore her! Where is the bastard with the crown?” George demands.

“On his way,” one of the guards says. “We thought we had a few hours…”

“No excuses!”

Another howl sounds, this time closer.

“Where is that crown?!”

“It won’t be here in time,” I say, taunting George, emboldened by Caleb’s closeness.

“Quiet!” George snaps at me. Fear and rage were on his face. The Alphas see it too and start murmuring to each other. “Silence, all of you!”

“Caleb is coming here,” I say. “And he’s pissed at your betrayal.”

“Betrayal?” asks the Moonlake Alpha. “What is she speaking of, George? And how can Caleb be coming here if he’s dead, as you’ve said?”

The other Alphas were quiet, suddenly alert, listening intently to George’s answer.

“The bitch is delusional,” George snaps. “The guards found her wandering the hallways dressed as a servant.”

“He’s not dead!” I shout, so all the Alphas can hear. “He’s alive! Can’t you hear him?”

“That is an Alpha’s howl,” one of the Alphas says. “It could be his…”

“It’s a wolf with authority, that’s for damn sure,” says another.

Suddenly, there’s gunfire at the door.

“Get over there,” George snaps to the guard standing over me. “Protect me!”

The guard rushes toward the door.

“You are losing,” I tell him. “Your alliance with the bear clan won’t save you…”

“Alliance?” a few of the Alpha’s gasp. One by one they train their eyes on the arm guard assigned to each of them. One by one, they give a gentle sniff.

“Caleb is going to kill you,” I say.

George reaches his breaking point. “Shut up, shut up! Shut up!!” He rushes toward me and grabbing me by the hair drags me back toward the throne. “I’ll break your neck as he comes through the door. If he’s taking me out, you are going down too, you fucking bitch.”

“He’s not denying it anymore…” the Alpha’s whisper.

“King Caleb lives…”

“He’s alive…”

“We can’t just stand here.”

Another explosion sounds, nearer. Then several things happen at once.

A few of the younger Alpha’s, pounce on the guards assigned to them. Some knock away their weapons. Others kill them outright. The rest of the Alphas follows the younger one’s leads, striking down every guard in the room with a gun.

The final one, at just that moment, shifts into a bear.

“Treachery!” the Moonlake Alpha cries.

At the same time, the door to the hall blows open, flying off its hinges.

Through the smoke, a man steps through.

As the smoke clears, it’s Caleb.

He has blood splatter on his face, and there are bullets dug into his armored vest.

Yet he struts forward, walking up that silver carpet, as he should. A King, his head held proud, returning home.

Chapter 112

Some of the Alpha’s bow. Others stare as if seeing a ghost.

I’m up on the stage near the throne, on my knees in front of George standing behind me. His hands are on my neck.

As Caleb comes closer, his expression darkens more and more. A few feet away from me, his eyes flash red.

He glances at me, focusing on the mark on my face, before looking back at George. I want to apologize, for this and so much, but this isn’t the time. Even when I’m about to die, it isn’t the time.

I can only hope he knows without my having to say so.

“You will release my favored consort,” Caleb growls.

“I am the King here!” George snaps. “You are nothing but a dead man.”

“You think a few bullets and a few bear claws would be enough to kill a true King?” Caleb says, his voice pitching deeper. He must be near shift.

George’s hands tremble on my skin. “If I let your consort live… will you spare my life?”

“You have betrayed your own kingdom, sided with our enemy in the north to usurp the throne. You are responsible for every death that was incurred on that day and every day since. You also attempted to kill me directly, giving the order for your bear infiltrators to finish me off.”

“I will bring Harper with me. She will remain unharmed if you allow me to leave unimpeded,” George says, speaking as if Caleb had not just listed his crimes.

I shake my head minutely, hoping that Caleb can see. If he lets me leave with George, I’m as good as dead anyway. I’d rather die for the cause than be taken as a prisoner.

Caleb’s frown deepens impossibly further. “You think I would let you escape punishment… for the sake of a harem girl?”

Fury bubbles inside of Caleb. His wolf prowls in his mind, back and forth, back and forth, begging to be released soon. It wants the blood of the one who would threaten what’s ours.

The wolf doesn’t care about the crown. What it sees as ours is the woman at George’s feet, her precious, fragile neck in his hands.

Caleb says the words he is supposed to say, knowing he cannot value one woman about the stability of his entire kingdom. Yet, for the first time in his life, he feels a selfish desire to… save her.

Maybe he should have left her behind at the farmhouse like she wanted. Maybe he should have chained her to something at the warehouse. Maybe he should have been quicker getting here.

Any of these measures could have saved her from getting hurt.

Instead, here she is, in the heart of the lion’s den, face slashed and life threatened.

“I’ve seen the way you look at this one,” George says, calling his bluff. “She means more to you than the others. Harem girl or not, I’m sure you don’t want to watch me snap her neck.”

“If you harm one more hair on her head, I will not give you a quick death,” Caleb says. “I will rip you limb from limb while you are still alive. Then I will tear out your heart.”

George swallows thickly. Caleb has put fresh fear into him. Good. He should be afraid.

Anyone who threatens Caleb’s mate will –

Wait. No.

Caleb has a certain level of… fondness… for Harper. But she is not his mate.

His mate will not be found in his harem. She will be a regal and dignified werewolf, as worthy of the crown as Caleb himself.

Though, Caleb admits, he is filled with a certain measure of pride, seeing Harper’s knife jammed into George’s chest. Even as only a human, his consort has claws.

Caleb isn’t much of a gambler, but he could take a chance here and now. Who would be faster? An Alpha, dashing up to rip off a man’s head? Or a Gamma with his hands already on the throat of the one he means to harm?

Perhaps if Harper could fight back once more…

Caleb glances down at her. She has fear in her eyes but also something like determination…

He holds her gaze a moment, before flicking his eyes down to the ground. It was a lightning-quick move. He hopes Harper understands.

Her eyes suddenly brighten. Yes. She does.

With his hand at his side, he signals, stretching three fingers. Then two. Then… one.

Harper lifts a hand then, with as much strength as her fragile human body can manage, jams her fist straight down onto George’s foot.

George loosens his grip on her throat.

Harper falls forward, straight off the platform.

Caleb leaps, grabs George by his own throat, and rips his head off.

George’s death is instant. It’s not as slow as he deserves, after everything he’s done. But Caleb will not risk Harper any more than she’s already been risked. Only with George dead, is she truly free of danger.

The sight is so grotesque, that I look away. I have no sympathy for George. And I’m glad Caleb has returned and killed him. But it still turns my stomach, seeing a body without a head. And vice versa.

Caleb doesn’t hold the head aloft for long though, quickly tossing it to the side. From the body, he pulls out my knife. Then, hopping down from the platform, he hands it to me, hilt first. I set it aside for now.

Then Caleb reaches for me, likely to help me to my feet. Before he can, he’s intercepted by the outstretched hands and praises of every Alpha in the room.

He moves backward to accommodate them all.

Congratulations are in order, as well as many questions.

Through the door outside, I see the loyal soldiers scouting through. I imagine they will have the entire palace secure very soon, if they haven’t secured it already.

After a time, a servant walks in carrying the King’s formal crown. The servant seems confused, flanked by two loyal guards. They walk up the blood-stained silver carpet, carrying the crown all the way to the front.

Caleb hops back up onto the platform. As the servant comes close enough, he reaches down, snatches the crown off the pillow it was carried in on, and drops it onto his own head.

Chants start up in the room.

“Long live the King! Long live the King!”

Carrying my knife, I walk toward the wall of the room, giving room to the Alphas and their entourages, all who want to crowd around Caleb as close as possible to celebrate him.

Caleb, from his lifted platform, looks around until he sees me. His eyes meet mine.

We aren’t that far apart in physical distance. 8 or 9 feet at most.

Yet with Caleb up on his throne, and me down here near where the servants are coming in, we couldn’t be farther apart.

Just as I’d feared those final days at the farmhouse, the difference in our social status is too wide to stretch across.

I touch my cheek, and when I pull away, my fingertips are red. I need to see a doctor. I’ll likely need stitches.

The Alphas will likely all heal.

Leaving Caleb to his entourage, I start hobbling toward the door.

I’ve always been self-sufficient, but after spending so much time working beside Caleb, it hurts to stand alone once more.

Chapter 113

After Caleb’s grand display, I decided to remove myself from the gruesome sight and return to my old room, to see if it’s been ransacked. Entering, I notice a few things that are strewn about, but for the most part, everything is more or less as I left it. With a quick cleaning, it will be as good as new.

I set to work, stripping the sheets from the bed when someone comes through my door.

“Harper? Thank the gods.”

Turning, I see Bethany rushing toward me. I open my arms just in time to receive a big hug from her.

“I was so worried about you,” Bethany says. “No one could find you. And then when you returned, and those soldiers took you…”

“Did you get the servants away from the explosion?” I ask, not forgetting the task I had entrusted her with when it was clear that I was going to be captured.

“Yes,” Bethany says. “We already knew to be on guard, so when I gave the order to get away from the door, no one questioned it.”

“Good,” I say with relief. There were still casualties today, but it seems as if they were limited to the traitors and the loyal soldiers. No innocents were killed, from what I could tell.

Bethany and I pull away from the hug then. She notices the sheets on the floor and immediately begins to assist me in cleaning.

With her continuous curious glances at me, I could tell that she wanted to ask me a few things.

“Go on, then,” I say to her. Honestly, I have my own questions for her. Cleaning can wait for now.

“What happened to you?” she asks. “You totally disappeared, only to return with the King. What happened while you were gone?”

Over the course of the next hour, Bethany and I exchanged information about what happened at the farmhouse, as well as what happened here in the capital. We are both equally intrigued by hearing what the other has to say. Though, by the time we are through, Bethany is much more excited than me.

“I can’t imagine the King acting that way,” Bethany says with wonder. “He must really care about you to actually try to contribute, rather than just letting you do everything.”

“It was a matter of necessity, not affection,” I tell her.

“Maybe,” Bethany says, clearly not convinced. “But that doesn’t explain the way you talk about him now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Compared to before. Your voice softens when you speak of him, and you so often address him by his first name and not his title,” Bethany says. “You will have to be more careful about that in front of the others.”

I blush slightly, not realizing how informal I have been talking about Caleb. In my mind, I know that he is still the king. But my heart is less practical. After spending those days together at the farmhouse, my heart yearns for him to be simply Caleb.

“Harper,” Bethany asks. Close to me, her voice is quiet, as if she worries we will be overheard. “Are you developing actual fondness for our King?”

So what if I am? It wouldn’t change our positions. He would still be kind, and I would be nothing but a member of his harem. He would never return my feelings, and once he married, I would be entirely cast aside. At least, I hope I would be. It would be so much worse for him to continue to visit me, all while he is married to someone else.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Bethany says.

“It’s not that,” I tell her. “It’s just… Caleb – King Caleb is now as he always has been unobtainable. My growing feelings matter very little in the long run. When we were at the farmhouse, it was easy to pretend that things were different. But the reality is still a reality, and I am faced with it now. Caleb will never feel more for me than what a King could feel for his consort.”

Bethany’s good humor falls at my words. “Yes. I suppose that’s true… Though your feelings for him will surely help you find comfort in your days here. Maybe being near him won’t be such a chore for you.”

I want to believe that, but the truth is messier. Instead of being annoyed by Caleb’s presence, I will now be annoyed by my own impossible feelings. Being with Caleb might just hurt me now, down in my heart.

If only things weren’t so impossible…

But this is life. Caleb is King, and I am a lowly harem member. There will be no changing that.

Bethany and I return to cleaning. Before too long, we have my room in an acceptable condition.

We pause when we hear a great many feet being marched through the hallways. Curious, I duck my head out into the hallway, with Bethany behind.

The people being marched are in the next hallway down, but I can see them from where I’m standing. Their wrists are chained, their faces dire. They are being led into the stairwell, and likely taken down to the basement.

I stop a servant on her way up the hall. “What’s going on there?” I ask.

After her initial surprise at having been addressed, the girl answers, “The traitors, mistress. They are being led to the dungeons. In the morning, the King has declared that there will be a grand execution.”

I look at Bethany, who looks back at me.

Bethany speaks to the servant, “He has condemned them all without individual trials?”

“He says the sickness must be purged,” the servant continues. “He was quite forceful.”

I’m sure he was. “I should speak with him,” I say to Bethany.

While I have no love for any of these traitors and what they tried to do, I’m not sure a massive execution is the answer. Perhaps they can be reformed, or sent back to their home country in a trade of some kind.

Caleb is relying too much on his anger here. He’s thirsting for revenge on those who harmed him so badly that he’s not thinking clearly. Ruthless as he may be, he might end up regretting this action and the wealth of possible information it might have otherwise produced.

I need to talk to him. I’m the only one who really has a chance at soothing him enough to think critically. If, when he’s calm, he still wants to move forward with this plan, then I might understand. But as it is, it seems as if he’s being reactionary and unreasonable.

So many deaths. Even the deaths of traitors.

It would weigh on Caleb’s already troubled mind.

I step out into the hallway. The number of guards stationed outside of the King’s chambers give me a pretty good idea that he’s likely inside.

I head there and try to reach for the door. Immediately, my hand is knocked away. A guard shifts sideways to directly block my path.

“My apologies for the misunderstanding,” I say. “But Caleb – King Caleb usually allows me to see him…”

“Not anymore,” the guard replies. “The King has demanded that we block anyone from entering.”

“If you would ask him -“

“Anyone includes us,” the guard says. “We are not to enter either. If you wish to speak with the King, you must wait until he leaves his chambers and gives explicit permission.”

“I understand,” I say, downhearted. It’s not the guard’s fault though, so I refuse to take it out on him. Instead, I drag my feet back to my room.

“See?” I tell Bethany. “I’ll never be anything more than a harem member.”

Chapter 114

Caleb sees nothing but vengeful shadows everywhere he looks. Even from the safety of his chambers, he suspects everyone in the palace is plotting against him.

Before the attempted coup, Caleb thought that his paranoia was mostly unwarranted, triggered only by the strain of not yet finding his mate. Yet now, he sees that he was right to suspect. In fact, he might not have suspected enough.

If one of his own advisors could turn on him like a flipping switch, then anyone could. His reign could be threatened once more, at any moment.

So he has all of the traitors slain in a grand execution. He attends, forcing himself to look into the eyes of all who have betrayed him. The experience leaves him cold, so he retreats back into his chambers to try to bring warmth back into his body once more.

All he feels is numbness.

A knock sounds at the door.

“I said I do not wish to be disturbed,” Caleb growls. He cannot allow those vicious shadows to follow him into his most private chamber here. Else, nowhere will feel safe.

Still, the door opens. Caleb stands and faces the door in a rush, ready to personally tear the throat out of whoever would dare to disobey him.

He pauses when he sees Tristan at the door.

Tristan has always been trustworthy. He is not a betrayer. He is a subordinate, but he is also something like a friend – if Caleb were in any position to actually have friends.

“The Alpha Council has convened and is awaiting you,” Tristan says.

“I did not request any such meeting.”

Tristan gives a strange look. Then he more fully enters the room, closing the door behind him.

“You did. Last night,” he says.

Caleb does not recall that at all, but much of the recent days are cloudy with fear and rage. Perhaps in a clearer moment, he did arrange for the Alpha Council to meet.

“I must warn you that the Alphas wish to return home. They will attempt to sway you,” Tristan says.

“Let them,” Caleb says. “I would prefer not to be surrounded by so many strangers.”

“With respect,” Tristan says, which he tends to say right before he disagrees with Caleb. “The Council was formed to plan a defense against the Bear Clan of the North. That has not been resolved. If anything, the bears are even more emboldened after the success of this coup. We need the council -“

“I don’t need anyone,” Caleb snaps. “Unless you believe me incapable of protecting my own kingdom?”

Tristan’s expression hardened. “Of course not, my King.”

“Then let the Council go home.”

“Can we agree on a temporary recess? Two weeks are so. You might feel differently by then…”

“Beta,” Caleb growls.

“That’s who I am,” Tristan says sternly. “And as such, I have an obligation to tell you when you are being obtuse.”

If anyone else would have talked to Caleb like that, he would have had them killed without question. But Tristan has earned Caleb’s respect and trust. For Tristan to push back like this means he firmly believes what he’s saying to be the truth.

Caleb doesn’t agree, but… Tristan has earned his consideration.

“Fine,” Caleb says. “Tell them it’s a two-week recess. But if in a week, I have not changed my mind, then we will tell them not to return.”

Tristan bows. “Of course, my King.”

Caleb turns away from him then, but he keeps listening as Tristan leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

As soon as Tristan is gone, the whispering starts in Caleb’s mind once more.

The Alpha Council could have helped arrange the coup. Likely the Gamma didn’t work alone…

Caleb shakes his head, trying to clear it, but all he can feel are suspicions – against everyone.

I’m very worried when a few days pass and I haven’t been summoned to Caleb’s side once. He could be having a good few days, without any headaches, but the odds of that seem very unlikely.

After speaking with Bethany and a few other servants, from what I can tell, Caleb has not left the safety of his chambers since entering them after the grand execution – a thing that I was unable to stop and blessedly not required to attend.

“Only Tristan has been seen going in and out,” Bethany says, relaying some information she gathered from other servants that very morning.

“Then it’s Tristan I need to talk to,” I decide. If I can’t get in to talk to, then I will have to go to the next best person.

Bethany helps me track down Tristan when he heads to the dining room for lunch. After being alerted, I rush there to speak with Tristan. Sitting at a lonely table, he eats a sandwich and soup and does not even bother looking up as I sit down.

“I was expecting you sooner,” he says before I’ve even said a word. “You’re late.”

I sit down in the chair opposite him at this two-person table. “I haven’t seen Caleb since the day we returned.”

“He’s not well,” Tristan says. “His paranoia has amplified. He even looked at me with suspicion, and did not immediately trust my advice.”

“I say the Alpha Council was sent home…” I saw Samuel once, standing across the hallway, as he and Leah were making their exit. Neither of us said a word to one another.

Looking at him, I felt… nothing. His behavior before the coup… I could maybe forgive, but I would never forget. He’s no longer a man that I can trust.

“He would not listen to reason on that,” Tristan says. “It was only with the full extent of my influence that was I able to make him even consider calling them back in two weeks.” Tristan shook his head. “He sees everyone as the enemy. Even those he should see as allies and friends.”

“He has not called me to see him,” I say.

“And he won’t,” Tristan replies. “Even though he should.” Tristan finally glances up to meet my gaze. “Harper, you need to get in to see him. You might be the only person in the entire kingdom who could help calm that paranoia festering inside of him.”

“I tried to get in once before,” I say. “I was blocked by the guards.”

“They tried to block me too. You need to be persistent.”

As nice of a thought as that is, I’m not a werewolf and naturally not as strong as the guards. If they want to keep me out, they will find a way. Plus, Tristan is the King’s Beta, one of the most respected men in the entire kingdom, seconding only the King himself. I’m just a member of the King’s harem.

“He needs you, Harper,” Tristan says.

That could be true. And I hate to think of him suffering, unable to trust anyone, lost in the dark winding caverns of his own spiteful mind. He needs someone to offer him a hand and lead him out of his own spiraling thoughts.

At the very least, I can offer a massage to push back the headaches.

I had to get into the King’s chambers. No matter what.

Chapter 115

I nervously approach Caleb’s chambers. The guards are there, same as ever, eyeing me warily as I approach.

“I need to see the King,” I say.

“So does everyone,” one of the guards says. “What makes you special?”

“That’s Harper, the King’s favored,” the other guard tells the first.

The first guard sighs. “Even if you are special, we have direct orders. not to allow anyone into these chambers.”

“Tristan has entered,” I say.

“Tristan is the King’s Beta…” Under his breath, the first guard adds, “And I massive prick.”

It seems, to get where I need to be, I must also be a massive prick.

“The King needs me,” I say.

The first guard lifts a brow. “He’d be pissed to hear you say that.”

“Maybe he needs to be pissed,” I say. “Maybe he needs to feel anything. I think all of us can agree that him hiding in his chambers for days on end resolves nothing.”

“And you think you could be the one to drag him out?” the first guard asks, narrowing his eyes.

“I’m sure of it,” I reply.

“Let her try,” the second guard says. “If she fails, the King will just rip her head off.”

“It’s our heads that I’m worried about,” the first guard replies.

“I will make certain you won’t be blamed,” I tell them, hoping I can keep my word. Truthfully, I’m not totally sure Caleb will listen to anything I have to say, especially if he’s not even listening to Tristan. “Things cannot go on as they are. I’m the only one with a chance of bringing our King back to himself.”

The two guards exchange a look. With a sigh, the first one steps aside. “Fine. But it’s your fault if things go sideways.”

“I understand,” I say, and push open the door.

“When I said no one,” comes a feral growl from within the room, “I meant no one.”

The lights are off inside, and the curtains are drawn. It takes me a moment to find the source of the voice, and then a moment more to detect anything other than his red ruby eyes glimmering in the darkness.

Caleb sits in the corner of his room, gripping the walls like they mean to close in on him. His eyes, dangerous and red, are wild with either fear or rage – perhaps both.

He’s close to a shift, but still holding himself back. That gives me hope that I might still be able to reach him.

“Caleb,” I say. Now that we are alone, I can be informal without ramifications I hope. “It’s Harper. Can you hear my voice?”

“Of course, I can hear you,” Caleb snaps. “My senses are not the issue.”

“Are you sure about that? Why does it look like you are holding that wall up?”

“It could collapse at any moment,” Caleb says.

“Do you truly believe that?”

“I know it.”

“Caleb.”

As I take a step toward him, a visceral growl begins in the back of his throat and echoes throughout the room.

He’s certainly in a state, trapped within the paranoia of his mind. I suppose I should leave him to it. That’s what he wants, after all. But if I do that, then he’ll be trapped there, without any possible escape.

If Tristan couldn’t reach him, and I didn’t even try, who would be left?

No, I can’t let fear win out. I’ve been threatened by this Alpha before, but he’s never seriously hurt me. We’ve grown even closer since the last time he raised his hands to me. I have to believe that he would not do so again.

I can’t leave him like this. Not when I’m the only person who might be able to actually help him.

So I step closer.

“Caleb, it’s Harper. I know you can hear me. I’m just… I’m going to give you a massage, okay? Wouldn’t that be nice?”

–

Caleb is trapped inside of a fog within his own mind. Everywhere he turns, there is only darkness. Even this figure – this woman – before him is cast in dark shadows. She could be familiar his heart is telling him that she likely is – but his mind insists he is only surrounded by enemies.

Even the palace itself is soon to collapse, trapping him inside.

“Caleb…” the woman says. Her voice is soft and warm, like velvet, wrapping around him.

He thinks… maybe he can trust this person…

No. No, he shouldn’t. She means to do him harm.

She takes a step closer, and then another, bravely coming toward Caleb in a way that no one, not even Tristan, had done before.

“I just want to help,” she says.

As she comes closer, every inch brings a fraction more clarity to Caleb’s mind.

He recognizes this woman. He trusts her. This is Harper, his favored. She protected him when he should have died. She stayed with him at the farmhouse.

Caleb, without even realizing he’s doing it, leans toward Harper, moving closer to the feeling.

Harper would never hurt him. So he stays still as she lifts her hands and reaches out to him. She places her hands on the crown of his head and begins to lightly massage.

He closes his eyes at once, as calm and serenity washes over him.

Stepping closer to her, and to this feeling, Caleb wraps his arms around Harper and pulls her firmly against him. Lowering his face into the corner of her neck and shoulder, he breathes in her scent.

Finally, the shadows drift back away from his active mind and he remembers himself once more.

He has no idea why, but for whatever reason, Harper seems to have a strange power over him. No matter how lost he seems, she is able to return him back to himself, as if she is standing on the shore during a storm, calling him home to port.

She is the only person who has ever been able to calm his mind this quickly, this effectively.

He doesn’t like to think of her as a necessity in his life. After all, she is a member of his harem and nothing more. Plus, she continues to insist that she does not know the whereabouts of the child they created together, which continues to vex and infuriate him to no end.

Yet despite all that, she is one of the few people on this earth that he trusts above all others.

He hates to admit it but to maintain his fragile grip on his sanity, he needs to make certain that she is safe.

“Have you been well, since our return?” Caleb asks. His voice is still rough from his near shift and all the growling. It remains much deeper than normal.

“Yes,” Harper replies. “I’ve reunited with Bethany. To find her safe gave me a lot of relief.”

Caleb grumbles in acknowledgment. “And no one has tried to harm you?”

“No. Most everyone has left me alone. I haven’t even seen the other members of the harem…”

Caleb doesn’t tell her that he had ordered those members to be confined to their rooms until further notice. Only Harper was given special treatment.

He was the only one he was certain he could trust.

Shaking his head, he tries to clear away the lingering paranoia.

Yet even with it gone, he has a lingering worry – this time for Harper and her safety.

If anything were to happen to her, he would likely lose himself.

He can’t let that happen.

“Harper, I need you to do something for me.”

“Okay.” She pulls back to look up at him.

Caleb makes up his mind. “I’m going to get you a gun.”

Chapter 116

Caleb seems taken aback, his brow raising at first, before lowering dangerously. “You would deny your king?”

“I’m not comfortable with that. I don’t want something like that, that could kill someone so easily, not even to defend myself.”

“You carry a blade,” Caleb points out.

“That’s different.”

“How?” Caleb asks.

Okay, maybe he has a point. Maybe a blade can be just as lethal as a gun, but it still feels less lethal to me. My blade could be used to kill, but it doesn’t have to. A gun, I feel, has the main ability to kill, with all other scenarios falling second.

I read once, when I was back with my pack, that a person shouldn’t own a gun if they weren’t confident that would pull the trigger. I was as least confident as I could possibly be.

“I will not budge on this,” I tell him, and he glowers at me.

“You are the most frustrating woman in existence,” Caleb says. “It is to be a gift, to help keep you safe, and you throw it back in my face.”

“My blade was a gift and a good one. A gun would likely just be taken from me and used against me. I have no desire to have it.”

Caleb grumbles as he steps back, releasing me. With a foot or so distance now between us, he huffs a heavy breath as he pushes his hand through his hair.

“The most frustrating and the most vexing,” he grumbles to himself. Louder, to me, he demands, “If you will not allow me to properly protect you, then you at least undergo self-defense training.”

I could agree to that, I suppose. “Very well.”

“In addition, you will take part in warrior training, taught by one of my subordinates,” Caleb continues. “Learning the moves I teach you won’t be enough. You need to train for speed and strength, if you will not rely on the trigger of a gun.”

I won’t, so warrior training it is. “Fine,” I say. I wonder who he will assign to train me.

Caleb considers for a moment more. “You will also accept a large sum into a private bank account in only your name. To that account, I will contribute regular child support payments.”

“I absolutely will not,” I say, firm. “I keep telling you, there is no child.”

“Do not bother lying to me, Harper. The money will go into the account. If anything were to happen to me, I trust you to take that money and use it to keep yourself and our child safe.”

“I wish you would believe me,” I say. I’ve tried everything to make him understand that our one night together did not culminate in a pregnancy or a birth. I have no idea what faulty information he clings to so fiercely that has convinced him to not take my word at face value, even after I have proved myself trustworthy.

“Just take the money, Harper.”

It’s impossible, but admittedly, it does give me some relief knowing I have a backup fund just in case the worst should happen. Not that I want anything bad to happen to Caleb. In fact, I will do my utmost to make certain he lives a long and happy life.

“Now. With that out of the way.” Clapping his hands, Caleb walks around me toward the center of the room. “Your first lesson begins now.”

“My first… lesson?”

“Self-defense lessons, Harper. Come here now.”

When he suggested self-defense lessons, I had no idea that he meant to be the one to conduct them, else I might not have so readily agreed.

“Now, Harper,” he demands, his voice dropping again.

Not wanting to incur the wrath I have worked hard to calm, I move toward him. Immediately, he steps around me, coming to stand behind me instead. Then, he stretches his arms around me from behind, grabbing my wrists.

“Escape this hold.”

Typically, in lessons, the instruction is given before the test. Perhaps here, Caleb means to test my general knowledge before breaking things down? I’m not sure, but my general knowledge is fairly slight.

To defend myself in the past, I know to kick and bite and scream. None of those things I want to do right now with Caleb.

Growling, he drags me backward against his chest so hard that my back crashes against the hard muscle of his torso. Dropping his lips to my ear, he says, “You aren’t taking this seriously…”

“I am,” I try to say, but the words garble up in my throat, as new emotion comes washing over me.

This close, with my ass pressed against Caleb’s front, I can feel the sudden twitch of interest in his pants. Immediately, my own body reacts.

It’s been several days since the last time we’d been together. My body has been craving Caleb, waiting for any hint of a promise of pleasure. This is that hint. My knees start to go weak.

Caleb lightly scents the air. His hands drop my wrists, to paw at my hips instead, keeping my ass pressed tightly to the growing bulge in his pants.

“Harper… This is not what I intended.”

“Me either,” I assure him.

“This will not save you from a life-or-death situation,” Caleb says. His voice pitches lower, dangerous, as he adds, “If you try it with any other man, I will kill them.”

“I won’t,” I say, already knowing that I would never. The only man who has ever had this kind of effect on me is Caleb. With anyone else, I’d be struggling for my life. With Caleb, I want him to hold me closer. I want him to rip off our clothes, press me down onto the bed, and take me. “Caleb…”

He groans in my ear. “You smell so fucking good.”

Suddenly, he swivels me in his arms, forcing me to face him. Without further warning, his mouth crashes down over mine, claiming me as his tongue licks inside. As I cling to his shoulders, my knees indeed do finally give out. He holds me up, his grip tightening on my ass,

I push my breasts forward, pressing into his hard chest, searching for friction. I hate this bra. And all these other clothes that separate him from me.

Jumping up against him, I wrap my legs around his waist. He growls his approval into my mouth.

His dick is hard now, pressing into the apex of my thighs. My pussy drips, overwhelmingly wet. Gods, it’s like I haven’t had sex in ages, even though it’s only been a few days.

It feels like a lifetime ago.

“I need you,” I breathe against his lips.

“You do,” he says in reply and starts leading me toward the bed.

Before we get there, a knock sounds on the door.

“Fuck off!” Caleb calls.

The knock sounds again, louder.

Caleb, seemingly ready to ignore it, drops me onto the bed, tand hen crawls over me.

The door opens. Caleb, pushing up onto his hands, growls vicariously at the intruder.

Turning my head, I see it is Tristan.

“Forgive the interruption,” Tristan says.

“Get the fuck out, Beta.”

Tristan seems apologetic, even if he is unmoving. “King Caleb, your parents are here.”

Chapter 117

Caleb suddenly goes very still. “My parents?”

“They await in the Hall,” Tristan says. “They are expecting you.”

“Caleb?” I ask. I’m still pinned beneath him on the bed, my body still hot even as my confusion has thrown a wrench in my lust.

Caleb looks down at me, with something like an apology in his eyes. “Later,” he says and pushes away from me. My confusion only. increases. It’s so strong that it overpowers any hurt I might feel.

I’m speechless as he stands and crosses the room towards Tristan. They exchange nods, and I expect them to leave me there. Yet, just before they get to the door, Caleb looks back at me.

“Harper,” he says. “With us. Now.”

Immediately, I hop to my feet and scurry along behind them.

Out in the hallway, both guards stand at attention. Caleb totally ignores them both, pushing forward as if paying neither of them any mind. Behind his back, they both glance at me.

I have only a limited understanding of the relationship between Caleb and his parents. To my knowledge, Caleb’s father used to be the most powerful Alpha werewolf in the land. Somehow, several years ago, those power dynamics shifted, allowing Caleb to step forward. as top Alpha, taking the crown away from his father.

The werewolf way would have demanded that Caleb face his father in combat to determine who is stronger. Yet rumors whispered that

Caleb’s father had simply stepped down, desiring a quiet life.

I never knew which was true, and when I’d heard the rumors, I didn’t particularly care either way. Back then, the mysteries of the capital seemed like nothing I needed to seriously concern myself with. Our pack was strong, and though the king offered support when we needed it, that was the only relationship we’d desired in the past.

Now, I suppose, with the Bear Clan invading, times have changed.

Hopefully, the return of Caleb’s parents does not stir the rumors again. The last thing Caleb needs right now is even more dissension in the ranks.

When we reach the doors to the Hall, Caleb turns to look at both Tristan and me.

“My parents only resurface when they want something,” Caleb says. “Stay near me and keep your expressions schooled. They retain enough power to be troublesome.”

Tristan nods. Already, he looks bored.

I try to mimic that expression, but I have no idea how successful I am. Both Caleb and Tristan give me pitying sort of looks.

“Stay near me, Harper. But… behind me, if you can,” Caleb says.

My expression must not be so neutral, then.

Turning from us, Caleb pushes through the doors first, with Tristan following, and me in the rear.

I don’t see Caleb’s parents right away until we stop nearer the throne and I peek around Caleb’s shoulder.

Caleb’s mom is a beautiful Luna, with long dark hair and bright eyes. Yet there is no affection in her gaze as she looks at her son. There’s no dislike either, though. It’s almost as if she’s entirely neutral about him, which seems strange, given she gave birth to him.

Leaning a little more, I catch sight of Caleb’s father. He is the spitting image of his son, albeit several years older, with graying hair and a neatly trimmed beard. Even his style of dress is similar to Caleb’s, though he wears a deep blue tunic, compared to Caleb’s more muted black and gray tones.

The eyes are the same too, or at least Caleb’s father’s eyes look much as Caleb’s did when I first met him – hard and unyielding. Icy and ruthless.

Caleb learned much from his father, it seems.

“Son,” his father says.

“Hector,” Caleb says.

His father – Hector – frowns even harder. “You address me by my name now?”

“Did you expect me to continue to address you as Alpha like I did in my youth?” Caleb asks. “I am King now.”

“You could call me ‘father,” Hector says.

“That was another title you sacrificed long ago,” Caleb says.

While they continue to argue, Caleb’s mother glances at me. “And who is this, Caleb? She is dressed like one of your harem girls, but surely you would not bring someone so unrefined to a meeting with us.”

“Harper is my favor,” Caleb says. He inches slightly to the left, in an attempt to block me from his mother’s view.

I don’t need to see her to recognize the contempt in her voice.

“Favored or not, she is a harem girl, Caleb. What we have to discuss is official business.”

“I am the King here,” Caleb says in reply, his voice low and cold. “Her presence is not negotiable.”

“Move on, Kira,” Hector says. “It’s no concern of ours how our son wets his dick. We have much more pressing matters.”

My face burns hot at the crude language and the crass implications.

“Speak your peace, then,” Caleb says.

“The recent coup attempt has been a disgrace,” Hector says. “The Kingdom is in a state of disarray.”

“I was betrayed by the Gamma George,” Caleb starts to say.

Hector scoffs, cutting him off. “I couldn’t care less about how or why it happened, what matters is that it did, and now you face the consequences.”

“The packs lose their faith in you,” Caleb’s mother Kira says. “It’s possible that soon, many might stand up against you.”

“They can try and they will fail, just as George did.”

“It’s my understanding that George nearly killed you,” Hector says. “Or did I hear that wrong?”

“Where did you hear that at all?” Tristan asks.

“Silence, Beta,” Hector snaps. “You are to serve and to listen, not to speak.”

Caleb starts to growl. “You have now disrespected my favor and my Beta. Any further attempts will not be tolerated.”

“There’s the Alpha I raised,” Kira says. “I told you, he still has spirit.”

“Then he can prove it,” Hector replies. He steps closer to Caleb. “Caleb, what is needed of you now is an alliance.”

“We have already formed a Council with the Alphas of the packs,” Caleb says.

“I am not speaking of the Alpha,” Hector says. “I am telling you, it is past time for you to find a wife. You believe that I am disrespecting you? You should hear the chatter that happens outside of the palace walls.”

“The people lose their respect for an unmarried King who cannot hold onto his power,” Kira says.

“A marriage would strengthen alliances with the packs and the people. If you marry a strong, noble werewolf, she will bring fresh excitement to your rule,” Hector continues. “The people are

downtrodden with the invasion and coup. Give them something good. to look forward to. They need a wedding.”

What an absurd notion. With everything going on, who has time for romance? Certainly not Caleb, who needs to focus on bringing everyone together to defend the kingdom from our northern attackers.

Surely, he will see this as ridiculous as I do, and refuse his parent’s suggestion.

Except… seconds tick by, and Caleb’s dismissal does not come.

I look at Tristan, but Tristan stares straight ahead, his bored expression firmly in place.

I wish I could pretend to be uninterested in Caleb’s response.

As I’ve always known, Caleb would eventually move on with someone else. I am the favored of the harem, but that does not make me a permanent fixture in Caleb’s life. When he marries, I imagine he will cast me off to the side.

I thought I would have more time before that happens, but as Caleb’s hesitation continues, I already know the answer he is going to give before I even hear it.

And my heart already started to break.

“Very well,” Caleb says. “I will begin my search for a wife.”

Chapter 118

Since my arrival here at the capital, it has never been any secret that Caleb was the kingdom’s most eligible bachelor. I can’t pretend to be shocked when so many women take interest in him, hoping to claim his eye and his hand – and some of his power – for themselves.

Yet, even knowing that the thought of Caleb actually getting married felt like a far-off prospect. He’s never shown much interest in the women who pursue him. Since I’ve been here, he’s spent most of his time with me, not those women.

But with this request from his parents, Caleb’s attitude on the whole matter has seemed to shift. Suddenly, he’s taking it all much more seriously.

Standing beside him in his office, I watch as he writes down a list of names. Women he knows. Potential brides.

I don’t recognize the names, but Caleb seems to know them off-hand. What did his parents say? He needs to marry a noble werewolf. That’s probably a short list. I wonder if any of them are beautiful. Caleb would want a beautiful wife.

I’m not jealous, but as I stand beside Caleb while he sits at his desk writing, I will for him to look up at me, so see me and acknowledge me. Instead, he seems entirely focused on his task.

With each passing moment, a sprig of annoyance slowly grows within me, coiling around my chest, inch by unbearable inch.

I am not jealous. I will not be jealous. I refuse to be jealous!

“I’ve made arrangements with the Pitmaster,” Caleb says. “You remember her? She will be conducting this season’s warrior training. I’ve told her to expect you.”

A new fear opens up within me, pushing back that annoying sprig for now. “You don’t mean to send me back to the coliseum…”

I dread returning to that place, even just to train in the pit. I have so many dark memories from there, where I was so agonized, knowing my death was encroaching. I don’t ever want to feel that way again.

“Of course not,” Caleb says, dismissing that fear at once. “This training will be conducted in the courtyard. You will not be the only attendee, so I expect you not to embarrass me. Several trainees of the guard will also be taking the training.”

“I understand,” I say, relieved. “I’ll do my best.”

“Do better than that,” Caleb says and lists another name.

My annoyance immediately returns.

Later, when summoned for the warrior training, I head out into the courtyard. There, in a far corner, blessedly away from the pit where I had nearly been whipped, I find the Pitmaster, who looks younger than I remember. Though I’ve never seen her in sunlight before.

Several guard trainees are already there, each flexing or showing off with backflips or handstands. The Pitmaster ignores them all.

Instead, she considers me as I approach.

“Harper,” she says. “Glad to see you have survived. And a consort now too, congratulations.”

I’m still not sure why being a member of a harem is considered an honor, but it does beat risking my life in the coliseum.

“Thanks,” I say.

“The King himself told me that you would be attending warrior training this time,” the Pitmaster says. “He insisted that I not go easy on you. Please be aware that you will be treated as any other of the soldiers to be present here.”

“I understand,” I say. “I don’t want any special treatment.”

To actually learn something, I can’t be treated with any kind of special treatment. The hard knocks might hurt the worst, but they always leave the most long-lasting memories.

Over the past few months, my life has been threatened and then threatened some more. Whatever I can do to at least deter people from trying to kill me would be a step in the right direction.

Short of me actually carrying a gun, which Caleb continues to suggest and I continue to refuse.

“Good,” the Pitmaster says. Louder, she shouts. “All of you, ready yourselves!”

An hour later, I fell down onto the ground for the fifth consecutive time.

Without special treatment, I have been paired up with a tall and broad monster of a trainee, who could probably moonlight as a professional weightlifter he really wanted. Instead, he’s busy breaking every hold I could try, and flipping me over onto my back like I weigh nothing at all.

“Sorry,” he says, looking down as he towers over me. “You are very light…”

He’s a gentle giant. His regret seems heartfelt. Reaching down, he plucks me off the ground and then rights me on my feet.

“Thanks,” I tell him.

“Harper? You good?” the Pitmaster calls.

I don’t want special treatment, but my body is sore. Fortunately, there are other trainees who have tapped out for a moment. They are currently resting in the shade, their backs against the wall.

“I might need a moment to catch my breath,” I tell her.

“You can’t train if you’re hurt,” the Pitmaster says. “It’s good to know your limits.” She nods toward the other group, and I walk over to them.

I sit in the shade beside a younger looking man, likely only recently twenty. As we watch the stronger trainees continue with their sparing, he grins at me.

“Hardly seems fair, pitting you against the biggest guy here,” he says.

“I need to be able to face an opponent of any size,” I say.

“Sorry, but if that guy comes up to you, you should probably just run.”

Running is ever my first choice, but I know by now that it is sometimes not an option. In those cases, I need to be ready to fight.

“I’m Ted, by the way,” the trainee says. “I know we’re not supposed to make friends here, but life’s too short to sit around all quiet all the time.” His grin is somewhat infectious, even if he comes off as slightly naïve.

I wonder, with a slight ache in my chest, how long it will be before this place ruins his spirits. Hopefully not too soon. It’s nice to talk to someone with such an easy smile, who doesn’t seem haunted by bad memories.

“I’m Harper.”

“A beautiful name,” he says. “Are you training to become a guard too?”

I blink at him. Does he really not know who I am?

“Ted!” the Pitmaster barks. “If you are feeling well enough to flap your lips, then you are well enough to continue training. Get over here.”

“Got to run,” Ted says with a wink. “Talk more later?”

“I… suppose,” I say, too stunned to say much else. He genuinely believes that I am here to train for a guard position? Looking down at myself, I’m wearing a borrowed tunic and leather riding boots. Caleb didn’t want me to train in my usual, more revealing harem outfit. Is this the source of Ted’s confusion?

I should tell him, I reason. The sooner the better. If he knew who I was, he would know to treat me with more caution.

If Caleb were to see…

As if drawn by my thoughts, I suddenly see him. Caleb. Storming toward the training with his eyes flashing red.

He’s furious.

And he’s headed right for Ted.

Chapter 119

The Pitmaster sees Caleb coming before Ted does. She had been attempting to show him a few moves, but now she stands to the side, moving at just the last moment before Caleb grabs Ted by the arm and swivels him around.

“Hey – what gives?” Ted demands. There’s more confusion than recognition in his eyes. Does he not know… the king?

Though I suppose, in hindsight, that isn’t all that uncommon. Before I came here, I thought the king was an old man. Leah thought the same before she saw him at one of the events. How many others have no idea what the King truly looks like?

Could Ted be from the country or something, coming in only to become a guard – all without knowing what the King looks like?

“Easy, pal,” Ted says, raising both hands, palms forward. He glances back at the Pitmaster. “Is this part of the training?”

The Pitmaster’s face remains expressionless, but everyone else is caught in varying levels of surprise and horror. From their faces alone, it’s clear Ted is the only ignorant one here.

At this point, I just hope Caleb doesn’t kill him.

The Pitmaster takes pity on Ted. Stepping closer, she motions toward Caleb. “This is your king, you foolish boy.” To everyone else, she shouts, “Bow before King Caleb!”

At once, all of the other trainees, as well as the Pitmaster herself, fall to one knee in honor of Caleb. Even the other soldiers beside me, who had been sitting, pushed their tired bodies into a kneeling position.

I stand instead.

“K-k-king Caleb?” Ted stutters, looking back at Caleb, who has him gripped by the front of his shirt so tightly, Ted couldn’t bow or kneel even if he thought to. “Forgive me, King, I’m from outside the walls and I never -‘

“Why do you attempt to steal a member of my harem?” Caleb demands, his voice a low, dangerous growl.

“Y-your…?” Ted asks, confusion clear on his face. In a flash, realization comes over him. “You mean Harper? I wasn’t trying to steal her, King, though she is beautiful. I was just being friendly…” His voice shakes with clear nervousness.

“She is mine,” Caleb says, his voice pitching impossibly lower.

If I don’t intervene, Caleb really is going to kill those poor fool.

I rush forward. “Cal-King Caleb,” I correct myself at the last moment. “This boy is just a friend to me. He was only being polite.”

“I saw the way he looked at you…” Caleb says. With disgust, he adds, “I can smell his desire for you…”

Ted pales. “I don’t mean anything by it, honest! She’s just beautiful!”

A growl rumbles out of the back of Caleb’s throat.

“My King,” I say, hoping to appear subservient while also somewhat firm. “Perhaps you and I should discuss this privately.”

Caleb shifts his gaze to look at me. He narrows his eyes a moment, before releasing Ted’s shirt. Ted, off-balance, stumbles backward and tumbles onto his backside.

In a flash, Caleb grabs my wrist and drags me along behind him.

I think he must be leading me back to his office, or to his bedroom or mine. Instead, we don’t even make it inside the building. He stops at a gardener’s shed, and shoves me inside. With the door slammed closed behind us, he glowers at me.

“You flirted with that boy,” he says. “I should kill him in front of you.”

“I wasn’t flirting with him,” I reply. “I was just being friendly. He didn’t even know who I was!”

“I bet you liked that, didn’t you?” Caleb’s eyes flash red. “You didn’t want him to know that you are mine. You wanted him to think you were attainable. Were you going to fuck him, Harper? If so, I’d definitely have him killed.”

“I have no intention of fucking anyone but you,” I snap at him.

He pauses, his eyes dragging down my body.

When he looks at me like that – like he wants to eat me alive – gods, it shouldn’t make me want him but it does. Already my pussy is wet, my nipples aching.

“You want to smell anyone’s desire?” I taunt. “Smell mine.”

I’m feeling bold, driven wild with lust out of growing jealousy and pent-up desire from our lack of sex the past few days.

He’s totally frozen, staring at my breasts, his nostrils flaring.

“What does it matter anyway?” I demand. “Soon you’ll be married, and I’ll have to find someone else to warm my bed.”

Oh, it’s a dangerous game I’m playing, taunting him like this. He has to know, deep down, that I have no desire for anyone but him. But the lashings of my jealousy make me want to snap out in turn. If I’m hurt, he should also be.

If I must be jealous, then he should be too.

Growling deeply, Caleb rushes towards me, crowding me up against the stone wall of the far side of the outdoor closet.

“You think I would ever let anyone touch you? You are mistaken, consort. Your body belongs to me, now and forever, regardless if I wear a matching ring with anyone else. You are mine. I am the only one who can bring you pleasure.”

I lift my chin, feigning defiance, even as he pushes me harder against the wall, pining me with his body, his erection digging into my hip.

“Prove it,” I taunt.

Growling, he claims my mouth with his in a biting and passionate kiss. His hands tear apart my pants and panties, exposing me to the cool air. As I hiss, he drops to his knees.

“That boy would not know how to please you like this,” Caleb growls before he plunges forward, searching for my clit with his tongue. His onslaught of pleasure is relentless, particularly when he lifts one of my thighs to drape over his shoulder.

As he suckles at my clit, he presses a finger up inside of me. I’m so wet, that it slides in easily. He groans in satisfaction, before adding a second finger. Then, with the plunge up within me, he curls them forward, finding my g-spot.

Clawing at his hair, I buck against the stone wall and cum. As my body trembles with the aftershocks, he carefully removes his fingers and raises to his feet. He kisses me, and on his tongue, I taste myself. It makes me feral with possessive desire.

I want more.

“Caleb,” I moan.

He wastes no time. Gripping me by the thighs, he lifts me higher against the wall. As I wrap my legs and arms around him, he lines himself up and presses inside of me.

I drop my head back against the stone.

Gods, his fingers were heavenly, but his dick is outright immaculate.

He fucks me hard. I bite down on my lip to keep from screaming.

It feels so fucking good.

“I’m not… going to… last…” I warn him.

“I’ll make you cum until you cry,” he says. “This is only number two, Harper.”

It’s a beautiful, tortuous promise he’s making. He wants to push me over the edge again and again to make his point.

No one else could ever make me feel this way.

He thinks I don’t already know that.

“I want it,” I whisper in his ear.

“Hold on,” he growls and picks up speed.

So I do, holding on like I’ll never have to let him go.

Chapter 120

After, Caleb sits on the ground with his back against the wall, holding me in his lap. With his arms wrapped around my waist, I’m tilting my head, resting it on his shoulder.

I was positively worn out. My body had already been pushed to its limits for the warrior training, only to be pushed even farther with such enthusiastic and athletic lovemaking. Easily, I could fall asleep right here and now, in the safety of Caleb’s arms.

He seems to be well aware of that, doing little more to interrupt the moment than brushing his hand up and down the length of my spine. I curl into him, practically purring like a house cat, I’m so relaxed.

Neither of us brings up the arguments that led us to this closet in the first place. That feels like a different lifetime now. None of it matters.

Caleb knows he has no real competition with Ted, despite my teasing. And while my hurt still lingers, knowing I will soon lose Caleb to another woman, his wife, Caleb has at least asserted that he will continue to see me.

This shouldn’t make me feel better. I still don’t like the idea of sharing someone that I care about with other people. But I’m also well aware that I am a member of a harem. That Caleb has been faithful to me has been a fluke, not any kind of conscious decision on his part.

Yet, even knowing he won’t be my only… I still don’t want to lose him, even if I hate myself for it.

Quietly, Caleb begins to speak, rousing me from my near-slumber.

“You saved my life several times in our escape from the capital,” he says. “And then went out of your way to take care of me at the farmhouse…”

I did, but he doesn’t need my confirmation. So I keep my mouth shut.

“You deserve a reward for that,” Caleb says.

My heart sinks as disappointment swells through me. Does he think that I am the type of woman who would be content with material wealth? What good would money or things do me while I am here? I already have everything I need.

Perhaps I could ask for a gift for my pack, but with everything that happened with Samuel and Leah, that gift might be ill-received. Time needs to pass before that type of assistance would be welcome from me or Caleb.

“There is nothing I want,” I say.

“I don’t believe that,” he replies.

I shrug, unsure what he wants from me. “I didn’t help you so that you would gift me things.”

He glances at me sideways, searching, as if trying to see the sincerity behind my words. I can’t tell what he sees either way, but I know the truth. I told it.

“Regardless,” he says. “You have done me a service and I would see that service repaid.”

“I don’t want things,” I say.

“Don’t be stubborn, Harper. Everyone wants things.”

I close my mouth and refuse to open it again.

“Fine,” he says, after a moment. “If not a thing, then a request. I will grant one wish for you, whatever it might be. You may not want things, but I am certain you still foster desires. When you tell me what it is, I will grant it.”

I keep my lips sealed, refusing to accept anything from our brief but nearly perfect time together on equal footing.

In my heart, with growing dread, I already know what this means. This jealous. This hurt. This inability to face the future where he is going to be with someone else.

It’s love. I’m in love with Caleb, his good qualities and his bad ones. I love him for the whole that he is, and the stronger person I become when he’s around me.

This knowledge comes with a heavy price. I love him, but this is a doomed love. Even if he feels the same, which I doubt tremendously, he would still never truly be mine.

At best, I’d have to share him. Watching from the sides as he walked down the aisle, marrying someone else.

I don’t know if I’m strong enough for that. Nor do I know if I’m strong enough to leave – even if I could.

I’m caught in a trap, with certain unhappiness in every direction. All I can do is watch the hurt come barreling toward me, like I’m standing on the railroad tracks watching for the engine to come my way.

“I will wait,” he says. “When you are ready to tell me your wish, I will be ready to hear it.”

My wish would be to have him for myself, but that is not a wish he would ever be able to grant me. He would never want to.

A King would never tie himself down to a member of his harem. Not more than he’s already done.

So I keep my mouth shut and turn my face more fully into his shoulder.

The future will hurt me, but the present is well enough. For now, when we are together, I can pretend.

Caleb stays quiet and holds me.

Then, after a time, he checks his watch. “I have to go,” he says.

I want to whine, to ask him to stay like this for just a moment longer. Though realistically, no time would be long enough to satisfy my desire.

But then he says, “I have a date.”

My whole body goes cold. “Oh.”

Pulling away from him, I hurry to stand up and right my clothes as best I can. Caleb tore my pants completely off, but my tunic should be long enough to give me some modesty until I make it back to my room to change. I don’t think I’ll be returning to warrior training for today. With the King himself excusing me, I doubt I’ll hear anything about it.

“Harper,” Caleb says, while I’m already reaching for the door of the shed.

I don’t look back, not even as Caleb approaches from behind me. He runs his hands down my arms, all the way from my shoulders to my wrists. I close my eyes as the feeling of comfort warms me from the inside out.

Everything still hurts, but not as much as it had only a moment ago.

Caleb kisses the top of my head from behind.

“Don’t let anyone see you on the way back to your room,” Caleb insists. “Or I will tear their eyes out.”

It’s not the most romantic gesture I’ve ever heard. In fact, it’s downright troubling.

Yet, it still conveys a message of possession and jealousy. Right now, I want to be the only one he thinks about.

If only he wasn’t about to go on a date with someone else.

I don’t wait around for any more whispered words. I open the door and step out into the courtyard. There, careful to avoid any crowded areas, I rush towards the doors leading inside, not stopping until I make it safely back to my room.

“Harper?” Bethany asks.

“It’s nothing,” I tell her.

I will never reveal the truth, not even to my dear friend.

No one can know that I have fallen for the ruthless King Caleb.

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Chapter 91

“You would fight me,” Samuel repeats slowly, as if in disbelief. “For him.”

“Not just for him, but for your sense of honor as well as mine,” I tell him. With that wild look in his eye, I don’t trust him enough to even turn my back on him for a minute. Of all the dangers out here, the invaders and the bullets and the raging bears, I never thought Samuel was someone I would have to be afraid of.

Or someone that I would have to protect others from.

Yet here we are.

“You’re crazy,” Samuel says like I’m the one who’s in the wrong. “You are absolutely insane.”

“Then it shouldn’t matter to you what happens to me from here on,” I say. “Turn around and leave.” I still need his help to move Caleb, but I’m not going to let Samuel anywhere near Caleb after the things he said tonight.

“Whatever, you crazy bitch,” Samuel says, finally backing away. “When the bears attack you, and you are left all on your own, I hope you remember this moment and how you pushed me away.”

I don’t move, don’t even lower my knife until he’s backed far enough away that he is outside of the alley. Once he turns and disappears. down the street, I return to Caleb’s side. Returning the knife to his sheath between my breasts, I grab at Caleb’s arm again and pulling, try to drag him into a more secluded corner of the alleyway.

We make it about two inches before my strength gives out and I flop down on my ass. Caleb is of tall stature with all muscle. He’s heavy, far heavier than I can hope to carry. But where there’s a will, there’s a way.

Determined, I push myself to my feet. This time, I try grabbing him around the middle and tugging. I yank with all my strength, but again, we don’t go anywhere.

Caleb grumbles this time and peeks one eye open, just slightly. “Harper?”

I shush him at once. It’s dark back here, but if anyone hears any talking they will certainly try to investigate.

“What’s happening?” he asks, quieter this time. His voice is wrecked, sounding like it’s caught somewhere between wolf and man.

“You fell from a window,” I tell him.

He grunts. “That’s why I can’t move. All of my bones are broken…” He exhales a wheezing breath. “Shit.”

“Just stay quiet, I’m going to try to get us out of this.” I look around. There’s a flat board leaning up against one side. If I could get Caleb onto that, and then find something ball-shaped to put underneath it.

It takes me a while to realize Caleb is watching me.

When I meet his gaze, he says, “You have to leave me here.”

Thinking I misheard, I inch closer. “What?”

“You can’t carry me. They’ll find us both. They’ll kill me, but I don’t want to think what they’ll do to you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He groans, and I’m not sure it’s just from the pain. “I am King, damn it. And I command you to leave me behind.”

I roll my eyes at him. “You can punish me for disobeying you when we survive this.”

Then, with renewed effort, I grab his shoulder and try to yank most of his weight over my back. He must help a little, shifting and kicking his legs.

Together, we make it toward the corner of the alley, falling behind some boxes before we both pant with exertion. Caleb is stretched out on top of me, I turn to hold him in my arms.

“Harper…” he says, breathy now. He’s weak and winded, soon to fall unconscious again. “Run…”

“Hush,” I tell him.

Then, suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps stops just outside the alley.

“Have you checked down here?” one of the soldiers asks.

I freeze, afraid to move. Caleb is totally slack now, unconscious again.

The light of a flashlight beam peers into the alley. It searches this way and that, all from the safety of the street. Yet from that angle, the light never quite reaches our corner. We’re safely blocked by the edge of the building.

The flashlight moves away, returning the alley to darkness.

“Nothing in there.”

“Well, he has to be here somewhere. The wolf didn’t just sprout wings and fly away. Keep looking.”

“Yes, sir!” says the other two.

All of them move away.

I exhale in relief. We are not out of the woods, far from it, but at least the immediate danger has passed.

It’s only a matter of time, though, isn’t it? I very well can’t carry Caleb out of danger on my own, and sooner or later, someone will think to check this alleyway.

In the quiet, other questions begin to formulate inside my mind.

For this scale of an attack to happen, for it to be this successful, something must have gone fundamentally wrong.

More likely, someone or one betrayed the King. This had to be an inside job. All of these bear soldiers didn’t just parachute into the premises. For them to be where they were, they already had to be inside somehow.

How long have they been infiltrating?

And who was the one, right under Caleb’s nose, who orchestrated all of this.

An Alpha, waiting for a chance to usurp the throne? But they’d still have to wrangle power from the bears unless the bears promised a partnership.

Still, as prideful as Alpha wolves are, I struggle to imagine them wanting to rule with anyone, especially not the bears.

Who then? Someone who has been seething under the King’s rule, and wanted him out of the way, no matter the overall cost?

Someone who wanted chaos?

Someone who wanted death?

My brain starts to hurt trying to think of the possibilities.

Well, whoever it is, and for whatever reason, I have to make sure those plans are fruitless. Maybe they managed to sew chaos for a time, but they would not win in the end. The King will survive this.

I hear a whistle noise and freeze again. There are no birds this far underground. Again, I hear the sound as it draws closer. Then, a slight sound like someone is sniffing.

With Caleb draped over me, I can’t even reach my knife anymore to defend us. But still, I hold my breath and brace myself. I will fight if I have to. Somehow I will find the strength.

The whistle sounds again, closer. Someone has stepped into the alleyway. They move swiftly and silently. I can’t hear them at all. I only see them when they step in front of a broken window and a hint of light reflects off the side of their face.

It’s a man, tall with broad shoulders. I wish I could see more, but I can’t from my position.

My only relief is that he doesn’t seem to be holding a gun.

I might have a chance. If he tries to physically attack us, I might be able to reach my knife and slash him.

He whistles again, a sharp high sound followed immediately by a low sound.

I don’t make a noise. I don’t move a muscle, except for my heart which thunders wildly.

Like he can hear it, the man turns to look at me. He looks me right in the eyes.

Chapter 92

The man moves closer, coming right for us. I tense all of my muscles, ready to fight, when I blink and realize the identity of the man in question.

It’s Tristan.

Breathe exhales my lungs so sharply, I feel like it’s been punched out of me. Tears well in my eyes, relief flooding through me.

Tristan is here. He’s Caleb’s Beta. He’ll know what to do.

“Harper,” he says with realization. Some of his own tension eases from him, as he comes closer and helps slide Caleb onto his side, off of me. “Is he?”

“Alive,” I tell him.

Tristan touches Caleb’s neck to be sure. “Thank the gods.”

“He fell from a window. Most of his bones are broken, he said.”

“was he awake?”

“Briefly,” I say.

Tristan exhales and nods. “Good. That’s good.”

Tristan has blood splatter on his face and his knuckles are cracked like he’d done some serious punching. He’s changed since I last saw him, now wearing the same black soldier uniform that looks suspiciously like the enemies…

My nerves start to itch again. “Tristan? Why are you wearing that?”

He glances down. “Oh. It’s easier to move among the enemy if they can’t immediately tell you don’t belong.”

That’s a reasonable explanation but it still makes me nervous. I hold onto Caleb’s arm a little tighter than before.

Tristan notices. “I’ve sworn a blood oath of loyalty to King Caleb. Do you know what that means?”

Vaguely. It’s hard to remember now with my adrenaline so out of control.

He takes my silence for ignorance and continues, “I cannot physically act against that oath. If I were to be disloyal to my King, it would kill me. That is the oath I took as Beta. Caleb is my leader, but he is also like a brother to me.”

I want to believe him but… “I don’t know.”

“Watch,” Tristan says. He pulls out a knife. My panic heightens, but instead of going for Caleb’s chest, he moves toward the arm I’m holding. Lightly, he traces a small scratch over the back of that arm. It bleeds a little but heals quickly. Tristan turns his arm so that I can see. The same scratch he gave Caleb is mirrored onto his own skin, but much, much deeper. His blood comes rushing out.

“Stop,” I gasp.

“It’s fine,” he says and lowers his sleeve. “I am not as strong as our King but I will heal quickly. It was more important for you to see that I am trustworthy, especially as what I’m about to ask you to do will not be without danger.”

“Thank you,” I say, because while I don’t like seeing either of them hurt, it does make it easier to trust.

Kneeling beside Caleb, Tristan more thoroughly inspects him. Already I can see that some of Caleb’s bruises are fading and the harsh angle to his broken bones is snapping back into place.

“We can assume that Caleb will not be able to help us with his escape. Even after his body heals, he will need time to rest and recuperate. These bullets are silver, we will have to pry them out.”

I could see, where he was pointing, that the skin couldn’t fully heal over the bullet wounds in his chest. Gods, it all looked so painful.

“We can’t do that here,” I say. “If he wakes up again…”

“You need to find him some clothes. I will find us a car.”

“A car? I don’t understand. Shouldn’t we help the guard retake the capital?”

Tristan looks at me with pity. It’s much different than his usual boredom and I hate it. When things are normal, he’s bored. I want things to be normal.

“We don’t know who we can trust here,” Tristan says. “But I know exactly who we can’t trust. And until we remove him from power and authority, it would be unwise to bring Caleb back under that roof. We need to escape and regroup. Let the King heal. Then we come back and destroy them.”

“Destroy who? Who can’t we trust?” He clearly knows more than I do, perhaps from slinking around behind enemy lines.

“George. Caleb’s Gamma. One of his closest advisors,” Tristan says.

“The one who never agreed with him.”

Tristan nods. “Caleb always thought some dissenting voices were good in his council. I have no idea how long George disagreed.” His lip curls in disgust. “When this is over, I will ask him myself. Preferably with my knife in his gut.”

Seeing he was getting angry, I tried to redirect his attention. “I can search for clothing in the nearby houses, but how will you get a car? And we shouldn’t leave him like this.”

“No.” He sighs. “Truthfully, I was going to send you for clothes and sneak Caleb away, but now…”

“You were going to leave me?” I gasp.

Tristan motions toward my wrist, where Caleb has wrapped his hand around it tightly. In the excitement, I hadn’t even noticed.

“No chance of that now,” Tristan says. “You say here. I will find a car and clothes. Wait for my signal.”

I imagine I already know the signal. That horrible whistling.

“Alright,” I agree.

Tristan quietly slips away, and I continue to worry. I don’t know how long it takes but it feels like hours, constantly on guard.

Then, at last, I hear the whistle.

Tristan sneaks back into the alley, carrying dark clothes for Caleb.

Together we dress him. Then, together, though with mostly Tristan carrying the weight, we pull him from the alley. Tristan drapes him across the backseat and hurriedly instructs me to lay beside him. He covers us both with a blanket, making sure both our feet and heads are hidden.

“Don’t move until you feel sunshine. Don’t even breathe,” Tristan says and closes the door. He gets in again, in the driver’s seat, I presume. The car starts and Tristan drives.

I do not move or breathe.

“We’re coming up to the checkpoint,” Tristan says. “Keep your head down.”

Slowly the car rolls to a stop. Tristan puts the window down.

“Get that gun out of my face,” Tristan snaps, twinging his words with a different kind of accent. The kind they use in the north.

“Oh, sorry, brother. We didn’t realize you were on our side. Where the hell are you going in this? The war is still on.”

“Have you seen this car? I’d be a fool to leave this behind.”

“Sure. But the war -“

“The worst of the fighting is done, as you well know. The higher-ups are going to be calling us out soon, and they aren’t going to allow for looting. Let me by in this beauty, and I’ll promise you a ride later.”

“Looting isn’t permitted…”

“See my knuckles?” Tristan says. “Guess how many wolf bastards I beat to death with my bare hands.”

“What if I guess right?”

“I’ll let you have the car,” Tristan says.

That’s a lie. Tristan isn’t giving up this car. He can’t, not without betraying Caleb. I believe he wouldn’t do that even if the blood oath wasn’t in effect.

He said himself, Caleb is like a brother.

“Ten,” the man says.

“Eleven,” Tristan replies smoothly.

“You’re full of shit,” the man at the checkpoint says, though he’s laughing.

“That means you’ll let me through?” Tristan asks.

“No, man. No looting means no looting. Not even for our brothers.”

Shit. How are we going to get out of here now?

“Shame,” Tristan says. “I was really hoping this might be this easy.”

Then, suddenly, the car veers forward like a bat out of the hell.

“Hey!” the man at the checkpoint shouts.

Then the shooting starts. Glass shatters, and the back windshield is blown out.

Tristan only accelerates more, then abruptly turns up the spiral road that leads us out of here.

Gods, do we even stand a chance?

Chapter 93

The road that leads out of the caverns is a winding spiral. Tires screech as we go around and around, up and up, Tristan never once taking his foot off of the pedal.
In the backseat, as I cling to Caleb’s unconscious body, the force of the turning pushes us back into the seat. The blanket that’s covering us comes loose, and over it, I can suddenly see out and up through the shattered back window to the lights flashing as we rush by them.
Remembering there are more guards at the top, I grab the blanket and yank it back over Caleb and me.
Tristan doesn’t slow the entire way, not even near the top, when sunlight finally beams in.
“Hey! Stop!”
The car accelerates, flying forward. More gunfire. The back windows shatter. The back of the car swerves but Tristan somehow keeps it from spinning out.
Suddenly, the wood breaks and shatters. Splinters fly in through the car.
More men and women should be after us.
Then, eventually, I hear only the rumble of the car engine, the clank of something broken dangling off the side door of the car, and the wind.
Are we free? Have we escaped somehow? I dare not hope to dream, so I keep hiding, coiling protectively over Caleb’s bruised and broken body.
I don’t know how long I stay in this state, adrenaline surging, trapped in fear and uncertainty, but it feels like a long time. A few hours at least.
Finally, the car rolls to a stop, and Tristan cuts off the engine.
“We’re here,” he says.
Where’s here?
Pushing back the blanket, I smell the scent of fresh grasses and hear the rustle of trees.
Tristan disappears from the driver’s seat. Beyond him, I can see that every window in the car, including the windshield has been shot out.
Slowly, I sit up. We’ve journeyed up a long dirt road, stopping beside an old farmhouse with sun-bleached blue siding. Out front looks to be a patch of dirt with some vegetables growing, but also some weeds. Everywhere else is covered with tall grasses.
I’d been trapped in the capital for so long that I’d almost forgotten places like this existed.
Tristan comes around to the outside of the back door. He tries to pull it open. It won’t budge. With a growl, he pulls it harder. This time, then entire door falls off. He shoves it aside with a huff, then reaches in to help me out.
“Where are we?” I ask him.
“Off-grid,” he says curtly, in the kind of way that makes me feel like that’s the best answer I can hope for.
Maybe it is. As long as we’re safe, I don’t particularly care where we are.
“Let’s get him inside,” Tristan says.
Together, though admittedly with Tristan carrying more of Caleb’s weight than me, we manage to get Caleb up the front steps of the farmhouse and then in through the front door.
The house is decorated nicely, albeit with a thin layer of dust on everything. It seems like a family lived here once, maybe a long time ag,o and then disappeared, taking nothing with them.
I tried not to think too hard about the implications of that. The house itself seems nice peaceful, and safe. For now, that is enough.
We carry Caleb in. I try to head for the couch, but Tristan leads us to the kitchen table.
“He needs to rest,” I argue.
“He needs those silver bullets out of him,” Tristan replies.
Caleb’s chest is still bleeding. As much as I don’t want to admit it, or participate in what’s going to come after, I agree.
So we lift Caleb up onto the kitchen table and roll him onto his back.
“I’m going to need a knife,” Tristan says. “The wounds are trying to heal. I’ll have to make new incisions to get those bullets out.”
I head into the kitchen, searching through the drawers. At last, I find a sharp steak knife, after tossing aside three or four that were too dull.
“Will this work?” I ask Tristan.
His face is grim with the work he must now perform.
“Find some towels and get fresh water from the pump outside,” Tristan says. “This isn’t going to be pleasant.”
I hurry to follow his orders.
While Tristan works to remove the bullets from Caleb’s chest, Caleb blessedly does not awaken. In his sleep, he merely grunts now and then as the bullets are pried from under his skin one by one.
I do my best to clean the wounds after the silver has been removed when Tristan moves on to the next one.
It takes several hours. When we finish, I step out onto the porch for fresh air.
Tristan joins me, after a while. “He’ll be fine now. Thanks to you. After some time to recover, he will be his old self again.”
I nod, glad for it, while also conflicted. Caleb is a ruthless tyrant. Did I make the right choice?
Tristan and I look out over the swaying grasses and the trees beyond. Everything is so isolated here. Peaceful. So different than what my life has been like for the past few months. Hells, maybe ever.
“You could have run in the chaos,” Tristan says. “No one would have known. The King might have died. Everything would have been different…”

I’m not sure I believe that. Even after what I’ve seen today, prying those bullets from Caleb’s body, I’m still not sure I believe he has any weakness at all. He would have found some way to survive. I’m sure of it.
“Why didn’t you run?” Tristan asks. He’s looking right at me now.
I don’t know the answer. Not really.
The smarter move would have been to run, to live my life free, with a chance to be happy whether with Samuel or not. Instead, I tethered myself to Caleb.
“I couldn’t let him die,” I say.
“Why not?” Tristan asks. “After the way he treated you, you might not have even lived with any blame.”
“That’s not how it would work for me,” I say. “But I didn’t do it just to keep from feeling guilty.”
Tristan lifts a lone brow.

I don’t really want to admit the depths of my feelings for Caleb to Tristan, but there’s something about this place that calms me. It makes it easier for me to open up. Maybe because it’s so quiet.
“My feelings for Caleb are… complicated,” I say. Even as peace, that’s the most I can manage.
It seems to be enough for Tristan. He looks forward again, and we both watch the tree line in silence for a while.
Caleb blinks away in an unknown room, on a hard kitchen table that wreaks of his own blood and silver. Someone is trying to kill him.
He won’t go down quietly.
Hopping off the table, he starts to growl. He doesn’t know where he is. None of this looks or smells familiar.
Someone smuggled him out of the city. Maybe they don’t mean to kill him, then. Maybe they simply want to use him as blackmail.
He won’t allow that either.
Then, suddenly, a woman enters the living room of this quaint house. At a glance, she seems familiar, but Caleb’s mind is so fogged with unpleasant memories and pain, that he can only think of one word.
Traitor.
He lunges.

Chapter 94

Caleb’s vision is red as he closes his hands around the traitor’s throat. He has her up against the wall, her feet. dangling, kicking wildly. She claws at Caleb’s hands with her dull human fingernails, as if that would ever be enough for him to not see justice done.

“C-Caleb…” she gasps, the villain, trying to manipulate him by saying his name so informally. She and her cohorts may have absconded him from his capital, but no matter where he goes, he will always be king.

“That’s King Caleb,” he growls.

A warm drop of water drips down onto his hand. He’s indoors. How could it be raining? No, it’s not rain. The drop was a tear from the traitor…

Something shifts in the back of Caleb’s mind. He knows this person… She’s…

Pain bursts in his head, his headache overcoming him so quickly that he stumbles backward. The traitor slips from his grasp and falls to her knees near the baseboards…

Clutching his head with both hands, Caleb cries out. What is he forgetting? Why does it hurt? Why does everything hurt so much? He’d pushed his body hard in pursuit of the traitor, but now he was feeling the effects. His limbs felt heavy, his body sluggish.

“It’s alright, King Caleb,” the woman says as she crawls closer to where he’s brought low, crumpled over in pain and weariness. “You’re safe here.”

He shouldn’t believe her. She likely wants to kill him or use him for blackmail, yet… even though he had gripped her by the neck, as she shuffles closer, it’s compassion he sees in her eyes.

How can this be?

Blinking a few times, the red clears from his vision. And he sees, the woman is Harper.

“It’s okay,” she says, hands in front of her like she’s trying to calm a wounded animal. Maybe that’s exactly what Caleb really is.

He places his hand on his chest, realizing now that his wounds are bandaged. “What happened to me…?”

“Tristan and I got you out of the city,” Harper says. “We’re at some safe house… How much do you remember?”

“A lot of it is a blur,” Caleb says. His head still hurts but it’s not as bad now, allowing him more presence of mind to think and remember.

“You fell out of a window,” Harper says, filling in some of the blanks.

Caleb remembers… He was separated from Harper. He tried to get back to her by following her scent, but she was already long gone when he was confronted by his advisor.

His Gamma.

George.

The man had looked so damn confident and so pleased with himself, almost to the point of glee. He’d cornered Caleb against a set of windows, flanked on either side by massive alpha bears. Behind George were more bears, soldiers, and so many guns filled with silver bullets.

It would take a lot to actually kill an alpha as strong as Caleb, but at that moment, Caleb knew he was facing his own death.

“Long live the King,” George mocked, as he signaled the soldiers to fire.

As the silver bullets tore through Caleb, he turned and jumped through the window. On the way down, his final thought…

Harper… Run.

“I was betrayed,” Caleb says now, to Harper in this dusty old house. “My Gamma…”

“We’ll make him pay,” says Tristan as he walks in through the front door. “Glad to see you alive, King Caleb, but you are in no shape to be moving around just yet.”

“Well, you left me on the damn table,” Caleb snaps, with no real heat behind it.

“We had to let your wounds heal some before we tried moving you again,” Tristan says flatly. “We pulled sixty-three silver bullets out of you, and I’m still not totally sure we got them all.”

Caleb gently twists his body this way and that, feeling each poke of discomfort. “That explains why I feel like Swiss cheese. Help me to the couch then, damn it.”

Tristan and Harper both help Caleb to his feet and together they shuffle toward the floral-pattern couch against the wall.

“A bed would be better,” Harper says.

“All the bedrooms are upstairs,” Tristan says.

Caleb, tough as he is, would not likely make it up a set of stairs right now. He feels like he might collapse just from inching across the floor.

A growl rises up in the back of his throat. He hates how helpless he feels. Like he’s a damn kid again.

He glances at Harper and sees the red marks around her neck. He did that. Shit. Maybe it would be better if he was weaker.

This situation hasn’t helped his paranoia or his rage. Even though she’s helping him, Caleb still finds himself suspicious of Harper’s presence. She shouldn’t have hurt her though.

Gods, he needs to get a grip.

When the reaches the couch, he collapses down onto it. It’s too small for him. He has to dangle his feet off the side.

“Harper,” Tristan says. “Why don’t you go see if there is any food in that kitchen?”

Harper looks between Tristan and Caleb, likely knowing she is being dismissed, before turning and leaving the room.

Tristan drops to sit on top of the coffee table. “Ask.”

Caleb makes certain Harper is out of earshot, before saying, “Can we trust her?”

“You’d be dead without her,” Tristan says blandly. “She sought you out and protected you until I could get there.” Tristan glances to the side.

“You aren’t telling me everything,” Caleb says. “I would know the full truth. Now.”

Tristan sighs. “She could have escaped. I saw that Alpha Samuel sniffing around where you and she were hidden. He likely tried to convince her though I have no proof of it.”

“But she didn’t…”

“No. She stayed with you and protected you. She watched you while I secured a car.” Tristan frowns. “A car I very much need to get rid of.”

“Drive it into a lake and watch it sink to the bottom,” Caleb says. “My blood is likely all over it. We can’t have any trackers find their way here.”

“Agreed,” Tristan says. He glances over his shoulder toward the kitchen. “I’ll stop for supplies on the way back. She won’t find anything in that kitchen.”

“Good,” Caleb says. From here, he can see Harper stretch to look up in a high cabinet. She’s still wearing that tattered dress from the gala, but it’s basically rags now. “I could use some time alone with my savior.”

Tristan has no reaction to that. “I’ll return in the morning,” Tristan says.

At Caleb’s nod, Tristan stands and walks out the front door. As the screen door slams behind him, Harper returns to the living room carrying a can so old it doesn’t have a label on it anymore.

“Was that Tristan leaving?” she asks. From here, they can hear the car engine start-up.

“Yes,” Caleb says. “He’ll get us some supplies.”

“That’s a relief,” Harper says, holding up the can. “I don’t think anyone’s been here in fifty years. Everything’s expired.” She starts to place the can down on the kitchen table but then stops herself at the last moment. With a frown, she takes a step away from the table.

Caleb feels endeared to her in this moment, for all she’s done for him.

“Come here, consort,” he commands. He pats his thigh, gesturing for her to sit on his lap. “Come and get your reward for protecting your King.”

Chapter 95

Caleb pats his thigh like he wants me to come sit on his lap. He can’t be serious. The man could barely walk across the room on his own and now he wants to have sex?

“We should wait,” I start to say.

His eyes narrow. “You dare deny your king?” He adds a frown. “Or do you think your king is incapable? Do you doubt my virility?”

He’s proven himself substantially virile time and again. I have no doubt that even as exhausted as I must be, he would still somehow manage to bring us both to the edge of pleasure again and again.

Under normal circumstances, I might even be excited to join him. As he is, I could ride him, finally being the one to bring us both to that precipice. But not like this.

“Two hours ago, we were pulling silver bullets out of your chest,” I say.

His voice dropping low, he says, “Do not make me come and get you, consort. Get over here. Now.”

He’s using his stern alpha voice, which instinctively makes me want to comply. Or maybe I just like the way his voice pitches low and sexy.

The thought of having him so close to losing him, to reaffirming myself that he is alive… is not unwelcomed.

As I take a step toward him, his demeanor immediately shifts to pleased, his lip quirking up into a smirk. His hand moves to the zipper of his pants and he pulls it down.

Uncertainty still grips me, even as I spread my knees onto either side of him and lower myself down over him on the couch.

His hand reaches up, snatching a fistful of my hair. He tugs, angling my chin back, and exposing my throat. Then, gently, he leans in and places soft kisses over the red marks he left there when he had been confused and attacked me.

I hum. His mouth is so warm. It feels so good against my skin, especially when he adds his tongue.

I clutch at his shoulders with both hands. Slowly, I start to lift myself and then sink down onto him.

He tenses slightly, hissing.

I freeze.

“Keep going,” he grunts.

“No,” I say.

“Harper. Now.”

“No,” I say more fiercely. Gently, I lift myself up and off of him, and then move away from the couch.

“You would deny me?!” he bellows, furious. His muscles shift like he’s trying to stand, but he’s too weak to stand up from the couch. He growls instead, but it’s not nearly as intimidating when he can’t move.

“Yes!” I snap back, which seems to startle us both. Too late to back down now, I press on, “When I have sex with a partner, I only want it to be pleasurable for us both.”

“A partner,” Caleb growls, and this time he does manage to push himself upright, his fingers clawing at the armrest of the couch. “Who the fuck do you think you’ll be sleeping with other than me?”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” I say.

“Didn’t you?”

Gods, he’s so stubborn. “I just don’t want to sleep with you if you are hurt! That’s shouldn’t be that hard to understand!”

He’s glaring at me like he hates me, and it cuts me deeply.

I should have known things wouldn’t have changed. It doesn’t matter that I saved his life, or that we are outside of the capital. He is still a demon, and I should have known better than to follow my confused feelings.

I don’t even want to be in the same room with him right now. I turn toward the stairs, eager to explore the rest of the house.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“To find some clean clothes,” I tell him. I take the stairs two at a time and don’t look back.

Eventually, once the shooting and the screaming ends, Bethany crawls out from under her bed. There are so many safe rooms in the capital but each one she tried was taken with people of higher rank than her, unwilling to share their space with her. In the end, with nowhere else to go, she retreated back to her room.

Fortunately, aside from one guard who briefly passed by the room, and didn’t spot her, she was safe.

Despite the quiet now, Bethany has no idea what to expect as she walks out the door. She’s greeted with more silence in the hallways. Down toward the Hall, one of the older slaves seems to have at least taken charge.

He spots Bethany at once and waves her over. “We need to clean this Hall out as soon as possible,” he says. “The Gamma George is going to be stepping up as the King’s Steward in the King’s absence. He’s insisted he has control of the Hall.”

It’s not in a slave’s nature to talk back, but in the absence of any real authority here, Bethany feels emboldened. She’s also worried about Harper. The last Bethany saw her, she was with the King. If something happened to him, something likely happened to her as well.

“Where is the King?” Bethany asks. “Is he missing?”

“He’s dead.”

Bethany freezes, shocked. She didn’t think anyone or anything could take down the King. How could this even happen? None of this makes sense.

“Get to work,” the man says, giving Bethany a shove toward the door of the Hall. “And if you throw up, you are the one who has to clean it up.”

“Why would I…?” Bethany starts, but her voice fails as she steps into the carnage of the Hall.

Whatever bodies that would have been left from this attack were cleared from the room, but the blood remains. It smells reek of blood and immediately, Bethany recoils.

“Here,” another slave says, handing Bethany a mask and a pair of gloves. “Grab one of the mops and get out to the balcony. An alpha was brought low out there.” Almost as an afterthought, they add, “Pick up the silver bullets but be careful not to touch them with your bare hands. Any wolf in you, that silver will burn.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Bethany says, her stomach twisting. At least, she thinks, she’ll be outside on the balcony and hopefully, the air will flow better.

She tries not to look at the ground on her way to the balcony. Once she’s there, she has to be waved through by one of the guards.

At least the guards have seemed to regain control of the capital. During the attack, it had seemed like that would never happen.

Although… Bethany pauses and looks at the guard again. He’s not one she immediately recognizes. She’s been here a long time and knows most of the people that are enslaved and assigned here.

It’s possible this guard was brought in from elsewhere during the attack, but the way he’s carrying himself, it seems so… odd. The guards here are all trained to stand a certain way. This soldier isn’t doing that at all.

It’s the shoes that fully give him away. This soldier has boots with thick tread the kind needed for heavy snow. Soldiers here are not assigned those kinds of boots because they just aren’t needed.

But soldiers from the bear clan in the north… they would need them.

“What are you looking at?” the soldier asks, his northern accent curling his syllables. He’s not even trying to hide it.

Bethany tucks her chin and steps out onto the balcony.

Surely the King’s Gamma doesn’t know that there are still bear soldiers lingering around the capital. Bethany has to find a way to tell him before things get even worse.

Chapter 96

Bethany keeps her head down, completing her work scrubbing the blood from the balcony while trying to not to panic about the very clearly bear soldiers still in the capital, posing as King’s guards. All the while, she waits for her chance to come forward and warn the Gamma about what she’s seeing.

After finishing cleaning, I head back into the Hall from the balcony. Gamma George is there, speaking with a few guards, some I recognize, but most are barely disguised bear-clan soldiers.

“What do you mean you can’t find the body?” George snaps.

Bethany, wanting to eavesdrop, immediately begins cleaning nearby. No one seems to pay her any mind. Not George, not the bear-clan soldiers, and not even the guards she knows.

As a slave, she’s basically invisible in the room. At least to them.

Bethany locks eyes with another slave, who gives her a silent, worried look.

The head guard George is talking to, stands at attention, his face carefully passive. “We’ve searched the entirety of the premises. Every alley. Every house. No one can account for the King’s body.”

“Then he might still be alive,” George says and curses. “I’ve already told half the kingdom that he is dead.”

“No one could survive that fall,” the head guard argues. “And all those silver bullets…”

“Do not underestimate him,” George says. “That devil has been a thorn in my side for years. I won’t believe he’s actually gone until I have his head on a pike.”

Hope springs through Bethany’s chest. If George believes the King might still be alive, then maybe Harper is too.

Yet at the same time… how deep does this corruption go, if even the Gamma worked with the bears to oust King Caleb?

“You there,” snaps one of the guards. “I don’t see you working…”

“Ignore the slaves,” George says. “They’ll follow orders no matter who is in charge.” He laughs. “They are probably as glad as the rest of us to see the king go.”

A few of the guards and soldiers laugh along with him.

Bethany hurries to continue working so as to not draw any more attention. If she keeps her ear to the ground, maybe she can find a way to help Harper and the King…

……

Meanwhile……

I go through all the cabinets upstairs and manage to find a plain dress that fits well enough – at least, if I tighten the sash around the waist. There’s some linen pants and flannel tops that look like they might fit Caleb too. I’m hesitant to take them downstairs though, still avoiding him.

It’s unsettling, seeing Caleb brought so low. He might still see himself as a King, but broken and weary on that couch, unable to even lift himself, he’s anything but.

Maybe I’m hiding up here like a coward, but it’s better than facing the uncertainty that waits for me down below. Still, the man should have clean clothes, so with a deep settling inhale, I take to the stairs.

When I finally make it down to the living room once more, Caleb is asleep, his head pressed into the corner of the couch. His chest rises and falls lightly with his deep breathing.

He is peaceful like this, so I choose not to wake him. Instead, I leave the clothes I found for him on the coffee table and step outside of the house. It’s already dark again.

How much things can change in a day.

Not wanting to disturb Caleb, I take up one of the rickety rocking chairs on the front porch. I’ve been awake for a long time now, so as soon as I rest my bones, my eyes grow heavy too. Before long, I’m drifting off to sleep right there on the porch.

I feel something warm in the night. When I wake up again, I’m on the couch, and the sun is creeping in through the windows. There’s voices on the front porch, but they are familiar.

Tristan and Caleb, talking lightly. I also notice that the clothes I left on the coffee table for Caleb are gone.

Standing from the couch, I cross the room, closer to the door.

“You can’t just go back storming through the gates,” Tristan says. “We don’t know the state of anything right now. George could be expecting you. He could have you killed on sight.”

“He’ll have to try harder if he wants to kill me,” Caleb says. Then, in a gruffer tone, he adds, “Do not forget you speak to your King, Beta. Just because I am wearing these ridiculous clothes.”

“Of course, King Caleb. With all due respect, you assigned me as your Beta in part because of my observations and judgements. It’s only out of concern for your well-being that I’m telling you, you walking back into the capital right now is asinine.”

“I am capable,” Caleb says.

“You need to rest,” I say, from the doorway to the house. I can’t stand listening to this anymore. Caleb can’t be out there, gallivanting around like he’s at 100%. “You nearly died. If you go back there, the exertion alone might kill you, even if the bear clan doesn’t.”

Caleb turns to look at me, incredulous, from where he sits on the rocking chair. When he looks back to Tristan, who is leaning against one of the support beams at the edge of the porch, Tristan shrugs.

“She’s not wrong,” Tristan says.

“Whether she is or isn’t, I don’t need anyone else to tell me how I feel,” Caleb grumbles, more grumpy than belligerent now.

I don’t point out, though I think, that he clearly does need someone to tell him when enough is enough. Before I said anything, he was ready to go back to the capital, guns blazing, like he wouldn’t pass out from exhaustion almost instantly.

When he returns to the capital, he needs to be healthy.

“Allow me to return to the capital in your stead,” Tristan says. He’s known Caleb for longer than me, and clearly knows how to make suggestions to Caleb to help guide him to the correct choices, without insulting him.

“They’ll kill you too,” Caleb says.

“Only if they spot me. I’m not going to make my presence known. What I’m suggesting is purely reconnaissance. I’ll go in, find out what’s going on. When we have more answers about what’s happening there, we can formulate a more sound attack strategy.”

Caleb nods in agreement.

“I’m not sure this is a good idea…” I say, with hesitation. Tristan and I aren’t friends, exactly, but I do care whether he lives or dies. We are allies in this. I don’t like seeing him put himself in danger. “What if you are spotted?”

Caleb frowns, but doesn’t say anything.

Tristan, meanwhile, looks at me with determination hardening his eyes. “No one at any of the locations I visited today knew what was happening inside of the capital. The only people who know are the people who are there. It’s fine and well for us to hide away while we can, but we can’t do this forever. Nor can we go back blindly.”

I understand what he’s saying: he doesn’t have any choice.

“Harper is right to have fears, Tristan,” Caleb says. “We need your eyes and ears at the capital, but I insist you be cautious. Not just for yourself but for all of us.”

Tristan bows low. “I will not fail you, King Caleb.”

Without another word, he turns and hurries away. There’s a new car parked beside the house. It’s a beat-up old sedan, yet still in better shape than the bullet-ridden car we used for an escape.

At the door, Tristan nods to both Caleb and I. Then, he enters the car and drives away.

I can’t help but worry that I won’t ever see him again.

Chapter 97

My main worry is for Tristan and his safety on his dangerous mission. My second worry, however, is for myself, as I’m now alone with him in this farmhouse. There are no other slaves or servants. No cooks. No cleaners. No other harem women to sate his needs – although that makes me more pleased than concerned, for reasons I don’t want to think about.

Undoubtedly, he is going to wish for me to fulfill the duties of all the other servants.

Almost immediately, my fears are realized.

“Consort. Make breakfast. Tristan brought groceries when he returned. I expect you know how to throw a meal together.”

I do, but it annoys me that he assumed that.

He’s injured, I remind myself, so that I will hold my temper. Besides, I am technically his servant still, even if we are outside the capital. I’m also hungry too.

In the kitchen, I find the pantry stocked. There’s no electricity in this house, but there is an old wood burning stove and an ice box. Both of which are stocked with wood and ice.

I could finagle a quick breakfast with modern appliances, but these antiques take me much longer to sort out. Why is it so difficult to start a fire on the wood stove? You’d think one match would do it.

Half an hour late, I’ve managed to start a fire, though I’m covered in splotches of old soot from having pushed the wood around so much.

The eggs and bacon are heating up now though, so that’s something.

Caleb storms in, demanding, “How long does it take to cook an egg?”

“Longer than you’d think, with the equipment I’m working with,” I tell him.

“I don’t see the problem,” he says.

“These kinds of stoves haven’t been used in over a hundred years,” I say, glaring back at him.

He leans against one of the nearby counters, his arms crossed, his eyes narrowed with annoyance. His face, even irritated is handsome as ever, which is incredibly frustrating, but it’s his body that takes my breath away.

That flannel shirt and linen pants that I had found upstairs that I thought might fit him are decidedly too small. They stretch across his wide shoulders. Every curve of muscle down his torso is on delicious display. Those pants are so tight, I can clearly make out the outline of his dick – which twitches under my gaze.

“My eyes are up here, servant,” he says, though he’s smirking now, the bastard. “And you’re burning the eggs.”

“Shit!” I gasp, removing the pan from the heat of the stovetop. The eggs are overdone, but the bacon isn’t thoroughly cooked yet. The stovetop isn’t cooking evenly. I’ll have to remember that in the future.

In a hurry, I dump the eggs onto a pair of plates and then return the pan, with only bacon now, to the stovetop. If I’m having this much trouble with the stove, I have no idea how I’m ever going to get the oven to work.

I rub my forehead, realizing too late that I’ve smeared my soot-coated hands across my forehead.

“Here,” Caleb says, suddenly beside me. He cups my jaw with one hand while reaching up with the other, holding a towel, and gently wipes the soot off of my face. “A servant of mine shouldn’t look like she fell out of a chimney.”

For a moment, he seems almost… softer somehow. I try to envision him doing this with anyone else and come up short. But then, like he realizes himself that this is not to his character, he backs away and tosses the towel at my chest.

“Clean yourself up. It insults me for you to be such a mess in my presence.”

“We’re in a farmhouse with no electricity and water we have to get from a pump,” I say. I don’t want to admit that I’m hurt by his sudden turnabout, but it still hurts all the same. “I’m doing my best.”

“Do better,” he says. Grabbing his plate of eggs, he eyes the kitchen table, but likely recalling what happened there, he instead returns to where he had leaned when he first entered the kitchen.

I look away back to the bacon. By the time it’s finished, he’s ready for more eggs. I offer him mine, which I haven’t even started eating yet.

He frowns at them. “Those are cold by now. You wouldn’t have your king eating cold food, would you?”

At that moment, I want to smash it into his face.

Patience, I plead with myself and crack open a couple more eggs.

By the time I manage to get to my own breakfast, it’s all cold. Still, I’m hungry enough to eat it all down, even as I silently resent Caleb for it.

He leaves his dirty plate on the counter and heads back to the couch in the living room.

Later, after cleaning the dishes, some of the house, and myself, I head outside to check on the state of the garden. Tristan left us with enough food for a few weeks, but without knowing how long we might stay here, I think it’s smart to have a renewable source of food. Especially because I’ve seen Caleb eyeing that icebox. I don’t trust him not to accidentally leave it open.

I’m not sure the King has ever stepped foot in a kitchen before in his entire life.

The garden is small, but has a variety of vegetables planted. Some, like the potatoes, are even close to being done. It’s just a little overgrown, is all. With some love and care, this garden could flourish again.

Rolling up my sleeves, I set to work pulling out the more invasive of weeds. Tall grasses have infested most of the garden, so it’s slow- going work.

I’m only halfway through when Caleb ambles out of the house. From the porch, he calls down to me. “Servant. I want a glass of cold water.”

“I put some water in the icebox,” I tell him as I continue my work. “It should be cool by now.”

“That means nothing to me. I am telling you to get me a glass of water.”

I should, probably, even though it is a menial task that he is perfectly capable of doing on his own. But I’m more concerned right now with making sure we can survive on our own, isolated as we are, than I am about catering to his every need.

“I’m busy,” I say.

An eerie kind of silence follows. Then, he asks, “What did you just say to me?” Every word is stunted as if spoken through his teeth.

“Who knows how long it will take Tristan to return,” I say. “We need a garden.”

“That is not a concern of mine,” he says. “That is for you to worry about.”

Anger flashes hot within me. At the moment, I take it out on the weeds, yanking them with more ferocity now. “It will be a concern to us both if we run out of food.”

“Servant,” Caleb says, his voice low now. A tone like that I might have feared in the capital, but here in the countryside, I am too tired, hungry, and irritated to be afraid of him. “Water. Now.”

Knees in the dirt, I swivel to face him. “Get it yourself.”

Chapter 98

For a brief moment, Caleb’s entire face goes slack with shock. In that instant, I feel vindicated, like maybe he’ll learn something new.

However, in the next second, his face hardens instead. His words like ice, he says, “What did you just say to me?”

On any other day, maybe I would have backed down. The Alpha is intimidating when he’s pissed off. Even now, I feel a tremor of fear zips down my spine.

But fear isn’t the only thing I feel. A kindling of defiance has always simmered inside of my soul, ever since my disgrace. It comes forward now and then, usually to get me in trouble before I can suppress it once more to keep the peace.

Right now, that defiance burns like a bonfire.

Maybe it’s the near freedom that comes from being in this place. Maybe it’s the confidence that Caleb can’t kill me here unless he wants to leave himself entirely servant-less. I imagine he’d be dead in two days, not knowing how to pour his own ice water.

Whatever the cause, the defiance is there, bright and hot, and it won’t be silenced any longer.

“I said, get it yourself,” I tell him, enunciating each word slowly so that there can be no confusion.

He steps down from the porch, moving toward me with his long, kingly strides. I stand up to meet him, unwilling to kneel before him now.

He glowers down at me, his upper lip curled in disgust. Curiously, at the same time, the ice thaws in his eyes, and his own fire seems to spark there, hot and dangerous.

“I am your King,” he says, his voice a deep growl. The shivers that tone of voice gives me are entirely different than fear, but I press down on those feelings, restraining them. This is not the right time to be horny.

“Out here, it’s just the two of us,” I tell him, steel in my voice. I want him to know that he can yell and demand and posture all he likes, it won’t make a difference. “Look around, you are the king of nothing but weeds and an old farmhouse. I cannot maintain this place entirely on my own while also catering to your ever meager needs. You know where the icebox is. I’m busy trying to help us survive out here.”

“You can stop your work to tend to my needs. It is your duty as my servant.”

I shake my head. “If you don’t start pulling your own weight around here, I’m going to walk off and leave you here. How would that be? We’ll see how long the king can last on his own. Do you even know how to work a stove?”

“Do not mock me,” he says furiously. Inching closer, he towers over me, glaring down the length of his nose at me.

“You won’t care if I walk off then,” I snap, unwilling to be intimidated. “A king should be able to stand on his own.”

In a flash, Caleb reaches out and grabs me, clutching the front of my dress in his fists.

“Until Tristan returns, it will take both of us to survive out here,” I tell him, squawking slightly now as he lifts me up off my feet. My voice turns pleading. Why can’t he understand? “I can’t do it all alone. You have to pull your own weight!”

A deep growl escapes the back of Caleb’s throat. For a moment, I brace myself, because he looks mad as hell and like he might just throw me across the meadow.

But then, his gaze shifts, and he looks down at the garden beneath us and its sorry state.

“You expect this… to grow our food?” Caleb asks. Slowly, he lowers me down to my feet.

When my feet touch the ground, I breathe easy again. “It’s already growing some. We just need to help it.”

Caleb releases his hands from my dress and takes a half-step back. His anger has simmered now into mere annoyance – and skepticism. “Show me.”

That’s… odd. I was expecting more fights from him. At the very least, I thought he might just storm off and leave me alone. But now he wants to… help?

Maybe my words got through to him. Does he now see how important it is for us to work together to survive?

Containing my pride, I return to my work in the dirt, showing him how to grab the weeds and remove them, while also being cautious of the plants we want to save.

“If you expose the roots, make sure to cover them again with fresh soil.”

He watches for a time, then bends down and, with a disgusted look on his face, digs his hands into the dirt to uproot a rather nasty weed. I’ve seen this man covered in blood and gore. I’ve seen him commit torture and other terrible acts, all with a straight face.

But it’s the dirt under his fingernails that has him looking the most disgusted.

He removes a few weeds as I showed him, but then seems to grow impatient and starts pulling faster and at random.

“Stop!” I tell him quickly before he can uproot a carrot.

“What?” he says shortly, throwing me a look of frustration.

“That’s a carrot,” I say.

Looking down, he slowly releases the death grip he had on that carrot. “They look the same…”

“Perhaps if you stick with the grasses,” I suggest. “The grasses don’t look like any vegetables.”

He looks at his hands. Even from where I am, I can see the dirt caked into his skin at the bends of his fingers and palms.

“My hands are not built for such gentle work,” he says. “I am built to rule, not to… tend gardens…”

“It’s an adjustment. It will take time.”

“I am a king,” he says, the annoyance returning tenfold to his voice. “I should not have to adjust.”

“Caleb,” I start.

“Do not address me so informally,” he snaps, as he pushes himself back to his feet. “Whether we are here or anywhere else, I am still your King, and you will treat me with respect and dignity.” He looks at his hands again. “Dignity…” he repeats with distain, then huffs a sharp breath.

Before I can think of what to say to him, my own anger flaring, he storms off, not in the direction of the house, but through a part of the meadow, headed toward the nearest line of trees..

I let him go, glaring after him. He’s made such a mess of the garden, it’s probably for the best that he just gives up.

It will be a miracle if we survive out here for any length of time without killing each other. Or starving to death. At this rate, I think killing each other will come first.

For a time, I continue my work on my own, weeding most of the garden. Yet, the longer I work, and the longer Caleb takes to return, the more I wonder if I wasn’t patient enough with him.

He is a king, after all. He’s likely always had servants tending to his every whim, so he wouldn’t know how to use a stove or an ice box or how to weed a garden.

That he helped at all today shows a willingness to learn, to do his part, and to pull his own weight.

Maybe tending the garden isn’t the right task for him, but we can try other things…

I should apologize, I realize. Or at least, offer some suggestions of things he could help with that he might excel at.

Gods know where he wandered off too. He is coming back… right?

Nervous now, I abandon my work to follow the path he took, across the meadow and through the trees. There, I hear the sounds of rushing water. I follow the noise to find a river.

In that river, stands Caleb.

Entirely naked.

Chapter 99

Caleb’s wounds are healing nicely. That’s the first thing I think looking at Caleb’s chest. The second is much less innocent.

As much as I want to hate Caleb, and as many viable reasons as I have to do so, his body always manages to provide an excellent counterpoint. He may only be an alpha werewolf, but he is built like a god. Wide shoulders taper to a narrow waist, only to expand out again with shapely rounded glutes.

And all of it is on perfect, wet display for me now.

Caleb’s attention is fixed on something in the water, his hands curled loosely above the water.

Then, in a flash, even faster than I can see, he darts his hands into the water, scoops out a fish, and tosses it onto the shore right at my feet.

For a moment, the building heat inside of me wanes, only so I can be so thoroughly impressed. He’d moved quickly as lightning.

“How did you do that?” I ask.

He smirks at me. “I’m an Alpha,” he says with all the confidence in the world. I want to mock him but I’m actually glad this endeavor has rebuilt his spirits after his frustration with the garden. “Do you want to try to learn?”

“I’m not an Alpha,” I say. “I’m not even a wolf.”

His smirk widens. “We’ll put you to the test, then. See how much you are capable of.”

He’s baiting me. I hate that it’s working. I’m not one to back down from a challenge.

I kick off my shoes and then step into the water at the river’s edge.

Caleb clucks his tongue. “Don’t come in here with that dress. The current isn’t much but it will feel twenty times heavier with that skirt holding you down.” Mischief sparks in his eyes. “Unless you want me to rescue you.”

Annoyed, I start unbuttoning the front buttons of the dress, then untie the sash at the waist. When it’s loose enough, I lower it down over my body and step out of it. Embarrassment brings heat to my cheeks, but I try to ignore it, reminding myself that my underwear still covers most of me.

I step into the river once more, only for Caleb to cluck in disapproval once more.

“There’s no sense in wetting your panties and bra. It would make for an uncomfortable walk home,” he says.

He’s right and I hate that. Still, I hesitate. He’s seen me naked before, many times, but I still feel shy, more than normal. Maybe because we are outside, and not in the bedroom. And the activity we have planned isn’t sex.

“Although your panties are already wet, so I can understand your hesitation,” he says smugly, making a show of scenting the air.

Alpha bastards and their heightened senses. Yes, my body reacted to seeing him naked, but I shouldn’t be punished for it. Though,

admittedly, even now, my pussy is creating fresh dampness at the thought of being naked with Caleb.

Frustrated by my own body, I hurriedly remove my bra and panties and leave them on top of my dress.

Turning back to the water, I make the mistake of looking at Caleb and find him staring at my nakedness with hooded eyes. When he looks at my breasts, my nipples harden. When that gaze lowers to the apex of my thighs, I shift, aching to feel him inside of me.

No. He is going to teach me how to fish and I need to focus on that. Keeping that thought at the forefront of my mind, I step into the water. He doesn’t correct me this time, so I continue, wading through the thigh-high waters until I’m closer to him.

He could grab me if he wanted to, yank me to him and kiss the life out of me. Instead, he instructs me.

“Stand like this, with your feet slightly further apart. You don’t want to stumble when you are forced to move quickly,” he says.

Disappointment flushes through me, and I hate myself for it. Caleb showed me what to do is what should be happening. Sex was never the intention here, no matter how hot my body was for him.

I inch my legs apart. “Like this?”

He stares at the junction of my thighs, just above the water. “Perfect.”

Heat burns my face, scorching, until he looks away, down to the face of the water. He sets his hands as he did before, with the side of his palms over the water.

I mimic the motion.

“No. You have to keep your fingers curled. You’ll be making a net with your hands,” he says.

I try to follow his instructions, but I still can’t manage.

“No,” he says again. With a sigh, he wades through the water closer

to me. “Like this,” he says. Taking point behind me, he wraps his arms around me so that his hands can fit around the outsides of my hands. He curls my fingers one by one.

Meanwhile, his torso is lining my entire back. His cock is hardening, twitching against my ass.

It’s exceedingly difficult to concentrate.

Caleb, however, despite his dick’s growing interest, maintains his focus.

He moves my hands with his own, pushing down under the water, then closing almost beneath the fish. We lift, flinging the fish into the air, but my last minute hesitation causes the fish to land short of the shore. It flops harmlessly back into the water.

I’ve never moved my arms that quickly. They sting a little from the exertion of it.

“I don’t think I’m built for this particular job,” I tell him.

His arms are still around me, his hands covering my hands.

“No, I suppose not,” he says, his lips near my ear, his breath hot on my earlobe. “Fortunately, you have other talents.”

I swallow thickly. Does he mean sex or gardening?

His dick throbs, nearly all the way hard now, nudging at the swell of my ass.

Guiding my hands with his own, he brings them up so that my palms press flat against my own breasts.

“Caleb…” I whisper, trepidation in my voice.

“No one is here. No one can see you but me,” he says, his voice a warm rumble in my ear.

“But your wounds…” I say, even weaker. The walls I built to keep him out are crumbling.

“I’m stronger every minute.” He abandons one of my hands, leaving it on my breast, as he starts to trail a hand down the length of my front, down over my stomach, lower still to my mound. “Every second.”

“Caleb,” I gasp, as he pushes two fingers through my folds, searching for and then quickly, expertly, finding my clit.

“I can make you scream out here, and no one will hear you. Here, we can both let ourselves go…”

Both?

I glance over my shoulder at him, to see the heat as well as that strange softness in his eyes.

As if seeing the question in my gaze, he answers, “A King must always uphold decorum, even in the bedroom. Out here, I don’t have to hold myself back.”

I swallow thickly, wondering what he could possibly have left to give that I haven’t already seen when I’ve already been so thoroughly satisfied. Whatever it is, the promise of it sparks new electricity through me.

“What do you say, Harper? Do you want to see me unchained?”

I do. So much, in fact, that I swivel in his arms and jump up against him in anticipation.

He mustn’t have been expecting me to do that, or he wasn’t prepared for the sudden weight.

Either way, we both topple, crashing down under the water.

Chapter 100

The shock of water up my nose cools my passions enough for fear to set in. What have I done? I basically shoved Caleb under the water. He’s going to be furious. He’s going to –

My rush of thoughts is abruptly halted as Caleb yanks me up and out of the water. I brace myself, expecting to be yelled at. Instead, his chest shakes against my ear as a sound I’ve never heard before – at least not genuinely escaping his lips.

He’s… laughing.

I look up at him to be sure, and…yes. His lips are curled up, his eyes squinting slightly, his mouth open. Genuine booming laughs, bright and happy, are coming out of him.

If I wasn’t seeing it for myself right at this moment, I wouldn’t believe it.

He’s happy. He’s playful. He’s… having fun?

Cradling me against his chest, bridal style, he carries me to the edge of the river. Once there, he lowers me down onto his stretched-out flannel shirt.

Unlike where I had left my clothes in a neat pile, Caleb had left his shirt stretched out as far as it would go, almost like… he’d been expecting this scenario. His eyes flash once more with mischief. He had been expecting this. Or maybe hoping for it.

“Caleb…” I don’t know what to think, or what to expect from this sudden, strange, happy version of him.

It makes me weak. If he was like this all the time, he’d never receive an ounce of defiance from me.

I thought him handsome when he was grumpy, yet a happy Caleb is like looking into the sun. He’s so perfect that it makes my heart hurt.

Is this what he meant by unchained? That he could finally let himself show his true feelings, even when those feelings weren’t upset or annoyance.

“Were you trying to escape me, by pushing me under the water?” he says, his voice a more playful growl, upbeat. “You should know better. You cannot escape me or my desires.” His gaze trails down along the length of my wet body. Gripping my knees, he pushes them apart, then places himself into the new space between them. “The King always gets what he wants.”

Today, I’m so hot for this man that I don’t even feel like pretending to be disinterested. “Then take what you want, my King,” I say, egging him on. “Show me what it means for the King to be unchained.”

His eyes darken, overflowing with wanton lust, mirroring, I imagine, my own. I drop my knees farther, stretching so far that they are down into the grass.

Caleb leans back on his knees. With his thumbs, he reaches down and pulls apart my lower lips, revealing my clit and my entrance – the entrance that’s dripping in my lust for him.

He openly sniffs the air, scenting my desire. “You smell so fucking good.”

Suddenly, his eyes flash red, and his canines start to extend.

“Caleb,” I say with alarm.

“Easy,” he says, soothing me. “I’m in control.”

Glancing down, I see that the rest of his has stayed human. Only his eyes and those two sharp teeth have changed. Perhaps this is what he means by unchained… letting his wolf have a taste.

Caleb lines himself up with my entrance and pushes himself inside, he receives no friction along the way. My pussy has been preparing for this moment since I stepped up to the riverbank and saw him naked.

Now, it feels like home as he slides all the way inside. This is how things should be. With him filling me, making me his.

“Caleb…” I say, half-moan, half-sigh. Gone is my ability to formulate actual words. With him inside of me, I can only think of his name again and again, like my mind is on a loop of base desire.

Caleb is what I want. He’s what I need.

Then he starts to move. Slowly, he drags his hips backward. I grab at his shoulders, desperate to keep him close, but he leans farther back out of reach. I whimper and he tsks at me.

“Grab your tits,” he says. “Like we did in the river. Play with those nipples. Give yourself pleasure while I fuck you like an animal.”

At once, I raise my hands. Cupping my breasts, I flick my thumbs across my nipples, sending zips of pleasure through me.

“Good,” he says. “Don’t stop. I want a show.”

With that, he snaps his hips, moving as quickly as he had in the river, so quick I could almost not see him move. But Gods, could I feel it.

I drop my head back, my mouth falling open. Again, he drags himself almost all the way out, slow as can be, before – snap – back in inside of me.

“If you stop, I stop,” Caleb commands. His hands grab me around the ass, lifting my lower half as he presses himself up further on his knees, giving himself more leverage. “Touch those tits, Harper.”

I try to obey, massaging the swell of my breasts while flicking my thumbs over my nipples.

He pulls out again – slowly and instantly plunges himself back in. His dick presses hard against the sensitive spot inside of me, and I gasp, unable to catch my breath. My surprise has me clamping down on my nipples, sending another rush of pleasure through me.

It’s almost unbearable. Too much, so close to pain, but still on the right side of pleasure.

A low growl emerges from the back of Caleb’s throat. His red eyes take mine prisoner. He bites at me like he wants to dig his teeth into my neck and claim me. That would make me his mate forever. He won’t do it, but his instincts want him to send fresh excitement and satisfaction through me.

In another lifetime, maybe I could be his. Gods, the thought makes me wild.

I curl my legs around his waist, begging him to continue with my heels against his ass.

He must sense my desire because the next pull out of me is as fast as the following plunge back inside.

He’s bucking inside of me with lightning speed, in and out, faster than I can see.

“Ahhh… Ah! Aaa-ah! Ah! Ca-leb! Caleb!!”

He growls in response, his fingers turning clawlike, biting into the meat of my ass. The pleasure-pain takes me further, I feel like I’m floating.

He doesn’t let up his pace, even as his growl heightens, and his grunts turn half-animal, half-man. I glance down in shock, but his body is still human. Yet, I could swear his dick is growing larger inside of me.

It’s too fast to see.

Smack, smack, smack, skin slaps across skin. His sweat drips down off his chin onto my equally sweaty skin.

I’m so close, I feel like I’m going to fly away. I give up holding my breasts, grabbing chunks of grass above my head instead. This lets my breasts loose to the inertia of his thrusts. They bounce with wild abandon, claiming his hungry eyes.

“Fuck. Fuck! Fuck, Harper. Fuck.”

“Ah! Ah! Gods, Caleb…AH!”

It’s so much, too much. I’m nearing the edge.

“Close!” I manage, between my gasps and my moans.

“Cum,” he growls with the full force of his Alpha voice.

The Alpha command crashes into me hard, maybe because he is so close to losing himself. Or maybe because I am. Either way, I’m thrown over the abyss, past the precipice of pleasure into something even further beyond.

Pure ecstasy.

Still, he presses inside of me. As I am, I’m nothing more than a blissed-out ragdoll, existing singularly for his pleasure. Then, his relentless pace starts to stutter.

“Harper…” he grunts with grit teeth. He’s holding himself back.

Why hold himself back? I thought I was going to have him unchained? Can he sense some form of hesitation on my part?

“Give it to me,” I tell him, more in instinct, than with clear-headed thought. “I want it, Caleb!”

That’s enough to send him over the edge. He plunges deep. Then, at the last moment, he pulls out and comes in thick hot strips all over my body.

Lifting his head back, he howls.

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