51

Not with the king, of course, but in a colder climate. Somewhere like Efra.

I crashed out of the tree line and into a small clearing. A few paths led to different parts of the woods, and I inhaled deeply, trying to catch a scent that wasn’t the king’s. I had no idea how far I’d run. I didn’t want to leave the king’s territory and trespass into another pack’s land.

I was about to head down one of the paths, to keep the chase going, but I’d underestimated the king’s speed.

He crashed into me hard, knocking me onto my side; I yelped as I hit the dirt and all the breath was knocked from my lungs. He pinned me with his weight, and before I could snap my jaws at him, his sharp teeth set at my throat and bit down. Not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough that I could feel their presence like a promise. His breath rushed hot over my pelt. I was tense beneath him, desperate to thrash and fight, but not with those teeth so close to my jugular.

Then he withdrew his jaws, but kept me pinned beneath him. He bared his teeth and a deep growl rumbled from his chest.

Do you submit?

His voice rang in my head as clear as if he’d spoken in my ear.

How was that possible?

I exhaled hard, my ears twitched.

Speak, he said.

In my head? To you?

Just like that. Do you submit?

How is this possible?

I’m the king. His voice in my head sounded almost amused as his golden eyes gleamed down at me. I can speak to all my wolves.

His wolves. His voice sent a shiver racing through me; the fur at my hackles stood on end. Part of me balked at the language—I didn’t belong to anyone, despite what everyone around me seemed to think. But my wolf preened at the suggestion. To be a part of the king’s pack—the strongest pack in Frasia. Under the strongest king. To my wolf, that was the ultimate success. Her pleasure raced through me despite my own misgivings. Without thinking, I tipped my head back against the dirt, exposing the vulnerable expanse of my throat. The submission was wordless.

The king rumbled his approval low in his chest.

You can get off me now, I muttered.

The king snorted, like a laugh, and then dragged his tongue over my snout.

He licked me. Licked me! Like I was some sort of disobedient but beloved pup. I couldn’t believe it! It was degrading, disgusting—and yet my tail thumped against the dirt. He looked like he was grinning down at me, tongue lolling out of his mouth like he was a pup himself.

Ridiculous. This man was ridiculous! I thrust my hind legs into his belly, pushing him off me. With his bulk, he easily could’ve resisted and forced me back down, but he didn’t. A faint scent of iron stung in my nostrils. Maybe my hind claws were sharper than I’d thought.

I scrambled to my feet and shook out my pelt, blowing some of the dirt out of my white fur. The king stood in front of me, front legs slightly bent and tail moving in a low, slow arc. His tongue still lolled out of his mouth. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he wanted to play.

It couldn’t be that simple, though. This had to be some kind of test. I paused in the clearing, lifting my nose to sniff the cold wind, the trees, the king’s scent, and the distant smell of the rest of the pack in Efra. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do here. What the king expected from me. But my wolf wanted to run—so run we would. I guess we’d see if the king could keep up.

I ran. And ran. And ran. The more I ran, the more my thoughts settled down, until I had no thoughts at all. All I felt was sensation: the dirt, the wind, my breath, my heart. There was no past, no future, no expectations. Just each moment cascading by like a rushing river. I ran until my lungs burned and my muscles protested, until the sky was inky-black with night.

I reached another clearing where a small creek cascaded down a rough rock face. The water was clear and cold, gurgling, and I hurried forward to drink from the stream. As I started to feel refreshed, I flicked my ears. The forest was alive around me, with sounds of small creatures in the underbrush, owls in the branches overhead, the wind rustling the leaves, and the stream rushing over the rock.

The king stepped out of the tree line, panting. He padded closer to me, slowly this time, and lowered his head to drink from the stream as well. His presence comforted me. I didn’t have to pay careful attention to the forest around me, not with the king nearby. Instead, I could focus on the simple pleasure of being in this shape—and how pleasurable it was. This was the most time I’d spent in my wolf form in years. Maybe ever. At least since I was able to control my shifts. And it felt good, indulgent, like dancing all night. I knew it was a bad choice, and knew I’d regret it, but it was so intoxicating in the moment I couldn’t bear to stop it.

Then the king lifted his head. He nudged his nose against my flank, then guided me closer to the rock face where the water spilled over. In the side of the cliff was a small opening. He nudged me again and I padded into the cave. It was barely a cave—more like a burrow. It smelled of cool dirt and fresh water, and the security of being enclosed immediately made me sleepy.

I flopped onto my belly in the cave, and the king padded in after me. With the two of us in the cave, we nearly took up all the space on the ground—and that only made me feel more secure.