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But what kind of life was that, alone? I was always supposed to have someone I loved with me. Now I had no one. No one except the king, standing in the quarters I hadn’t chosen, asking me to explain my grief again and again.
“You are the Queen of Frasia,” he said, low. “You have won a crown that other wolves would—and have—died for. This is who you are now.”
“You don’t get to tell me who I am,” I said.
“You don’t have a choice,” he said.
“I may be queen,” I said, “but I will never be happy here. Not with a king who keeps secrets from me, lies to me, and treats me like his prize without any regard for my feelings or needs.”
He stalked across my quarters toward me, his eyes blazing gold. He caged me against the wall, his hands bracketing my head, and his face tipped close to mine. “You are not a prize,” he growled. “But you are mine. There’s no going back.”
My wolf thrilled at the claim. I closed my eyes and thought for a moment I could hear the thundering beat of his heart.
“If you think, even for a moment,” I whispered, “that you will be able to control me like my father did, you will be sorely disappointed.”
“I never wanted to control you,” the king growled. “If I wanted a mate I could control, I would’ve picked that suck-up Rona, or the Starcrest woman who actually wanted your crown. I chose you because you—” He reared back, eyes still blazing but with a furrow of concern in his brow. “I chose you because you are headstrong. I chose you against the advice of my council. I chose you because I see something in you that you refuse to see yourself.”
“You see what you want to see and only that.” I flattened my hands on his broad chest and shoved him backward; to my surprise he acquiesced and took a few steps back. “You barely know me. You only think you know me. Love me. I won’t bow to your desires just because you’ve forced me into this role. From now on, no one controls me, even if that means this marriage is in name only.”
The king’s expression became suddenly, strikingly hurt—like I’d hit him. Then just as quickly as the pain had appeared, it was gone, replaced by a stony anger so powerful that when he bared his teeth, it made my wolf whine internally. I’d pushed him too far this time. I’d gotten cocky, and now the Bloody king was going to make his title known to me, just like he’d done to the traitorous Lord, and then to Griffin.
Then, the air crackled like an oncoming storm.
The king’s wolf burst forth.
He shifted effortlessly, the clothes tearing from his back and landing in shreds on the shining floors of my quarters. He shook out his rich, dark pelt, then fixed his golden glowing eyes on me. His nostrils flared; he pawed at the floor and his claws clicked against the stone.
He growled in his chest, and my wolf slammed against my chest, desperate to leap forth and join him. I could feel her longing, her ache to run alongside him, her desperate panting thoughts of mate, mate, mate. But standing against the wall, I thought of how he had closed his jaws so effortlessly over Griffin’s neck, how he’d looked bloodied and victorious standing over his motionless body.
For a moment I felt suspended in time, pinned in place as the great wolf watched me, expectant and curious.
Then the moment snapped like a thread. The king turned and charged from the room. As if the spell was broken, I followed him. He didn’t leave the quarters like I’d expected. Instead he made his way out onto the narrow balcony of his quarters—and leaped off.
I gasped and ran to the terrace, gripping the railing as the wind whipped my skirt around my legs.
Below me, the king had landed on the awning of the balcony below, and then from there gracefully jumped to a sturdy tree branch, and then to the earth. It appeared he’d done this many times before. Was this where he’d gone last night, leaving me alone in his bed?
From the grounds, the king looked up toward the balcony.
I swallowed. Even with the distance between us, his gaze burned. My wolf flashed in my eyes, begging for me to release her.
He lifted his head and dropped his ears back, letting out a single long, low howl. It sounded almost mournful. Then he ran into the tree line and disappeared.
I stumbled backward until my body hit the wall, and then sank down until I was seated. I held my head in my hands, knees to my chest, as my wolf howled and howled her misery. No matter how she cried, I wasn’t releasing her. Now was not the time for me to lose control.
I’d maintained my boundaries. I’d asserted my agency. The king knew where I stood in this marriage.
And yet, a small part of me—not just my wolf—couldn’t help but wonder:
What had I just lost?
