His eyes are still bright, though.

“You look nice,” he says.

Compliments seem to come so easily to him, and they seem sincere. It is unnerving.

I walk toward the window so that he can’t see my smile. “Thank you.”

The sky is full of grey clouds, and rain ricochets off the loch. The scenery, and the weather, is so different to the sun-drenched city beyond the Southlands palace walls.

Callum comes to stand behind me and his scorching body heat burns into my back.

“Miserable day, isn’t it?” he says. “It rains a lot up here. I don’t suppose you’re used to such weather down in the south?”

“Have you ever been? To the south? Beyond the Boderlands, I mean.”

“Everything’s south when you’re from Highfell.” I hear the smile in his voice. “Aye, I visited King’s City once. About. . . hm. . . must have been five years ago.”

“To cause trouble, I presume?”

He laughs. “No. I was looking for someone. I thought she might be there.”

A strange feeling surges through my body. “You were looking for a lover?”

“A lover? No.” He sighs. “I was looking for my mother.”

I glance up at him. He’s staring out of the window, a pensive look on his face. Something softens inside me.

“Why would she be in the Southlands?”

He chews his bottom lip. “She went missing one night. My father thought she was taken by humans. She was presumed dead. But. . .” He shakes his head. “I never bought it. I think she ran away.”

My eyebrows knit together. “Why would she do that?”

Callum swallows. “My father was. . . he was a difficult man.”

“Oh,” I say, softly. “Did you find her?”

He offers me a sad smile. “No.”

A long silence stretches between us as we both stare out of the window. The trees beyond the loch whisper in the breeze, and there are no people in sight.

Again, peace washes over me.

Until Callum sighs.

“So, about this condition I have for you staying in here. . .” he says.

I turn to face him, and I have to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. “What is it?”

He pulls a small black box from the pocket of his kilt. He stares at it for a moment. Then he exhales, before passing it to me.

I frown as I open it.

Inside, there’s a red tartan ribbon with a crimson jewel attached to the front.

“What is this?” I ask.

“It’s. . . erm . . . a necklace.” Callum rubs the back of his neck.

I take it out of the box. The length is short.

This is not a necklace. It’s a collar.

He has the good grace to look a little sheepish.

“It’s an old tradition.” Callum clears his throat “When an alpha is in an. . . intimate relationship. . . they can ask their partner to wear one of these. It signals to the rest of the pack that they’re spoken for.”

He swallows, and his jawline hardens. His eyes smolder with intensity.

“If you wear this, it signals that you’re mine.”

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter Twenty-Three

The red strip of material hangs from my fingertips, and my jaw sets. Indignation rises within me. He cannot possibly expect me to put this on. It is degrading.

“It’s a collar,” I say.

“Don’t think of it that way.”

I drop it back into the box and thrust it back at Callum. “I won’t wear it.”

“It’s not much different than a wedding band—”

“And you’ll see I am not wearing one of those, either.”

“You would have worn one, if I’d left you at the Borderlands.”

“So that is my choice? To belong to Sebastian, or to belong to you?”

Callum’s jaw tightens. “Surely I’m the better choice. Aye?”

My gaze dips down to his crumpled shirt, straining over tensed muscles, then back up to his eyes. They burn into mine and my heart beats a little faster.

The first time I saw Callum, I thought him a monster. He looked like one in that fighting ring, his broad chest bare, his torso as hard as rock.

Yet the true monster that night was sitting beside me. He threatened to take me like a common mutt on our wedding night. He said he’d throw me into the kennels after for Callum to use in the same way.

The thought filled me with fear. But I know now Callum would never have hurt me in that way.

Even though he is a powerful enemy of my people, I cannot deny the truth.

He is the better choice.

I swallow. “That is not the point.”

“No,” says Callum, raising his eyebrows. “The point is, it’ll keep you safe. No one will touch you if they know that you’re mine.”

“People will already know you brought me here. Wearing this is needless.”

“No, Princess, it’s not.” He shakes his head. “Telling people. . . It’s not the same. We may not have noblemen and ladies like you have in the south. But we have rules, and laws, and traditions. Like, if I were to challenge Rob and win, I would take his clan and title.” He nods at the item in my hand. “Wear this, and you won’t be harmed. It’s wolf law. Unbreakable. Inevitable. Just as we are bound to the Moon and must shift when she touches us.”

I note how the red jewel refracts the morning light.

“Would you wear one of these?” I ask.

“Course I wouldn’t. It’s different.”

“Why?”

“Because. . . Because I’m an alpha!”

“And I’m a princess!”

He groans and rubs his face. “You’re impossible. That’s what you are.”

“And you aren’t?”

He folds his big arms across his chest, and I fold mine, taking a step toward him.

“I agreed to come here in exchange for my freedom,” I say. “Belonging to you while I’m here, then being shipped off back to Sebastian when you’re done with me, is hardly freedom, is it? That was our deal. That was my condition.”

A strangled noise escapes his lips. “Don’t you see? This gives you your freedom! You can stay in this room, you can wander around the castle by yourself if you wish.” He points at the window. “You can even go for walks outside. No one will touch you. You’ll be free.”

He steps forward, so that we’re only inches apart, and his scent envelopes me.

“The full moon is getting closer, Princess. We’ve got a wolf inside of us. All of us.” He puts a hand on his chest. “It affects us as it gets closer. It brings out certain. . . instincts. You’re not safe. Not unless you wear this. Not unless people think you’re mine.”

I shake my head. “No. It’s demeaning. I’m not doing it.”

Callum closes his eyes. “Ghealach, give my strength.”

He walks past me, drops the small box on the bed, then walks to the door.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“I’m going to get some breakfast. You can stay here and think about your choices. Wear that, or have me at your side twenty-four seven.” He leans in the doorway, and the corner of his lip quirks. “Unless that’s what you want, Princess?”

“No!” I march toward him. “I’m hungry. I’m coming too.”

He laughs, darkly. “Oh, I don’t think so.”

I put my hand on his stomach in an attempt to push him away, then I still.

His torso is solid, and I can feel the ridges of his muscles through his linen shirt. His body heat sears my fingertips.

I have never touched a man like this before.

My gaze flits up to his. The humor has gone from his eyes—and just for a second, before he blinks a couple of times—I think I see his irises change shape.

I pull away as if I have been burned, and take a big step back.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble—then hate myself for apologizing. Hasn’t he manhandled me enough times since we met?

He looks at me curiously, his expression softening.

“You don’t have to apologize for touching me, Princess.” He raises an eyebrow. “Now, if you want to apologize for being as stubborn as an ox. . . well, that’s a different matter.” He looks at the small box on the bed. “Think about it. I’ll be back shortly when you’ve considered your options.”