Page 97 of Wolf Caged
“And how long has it been since you were last there?” I said brightly, a little teasingly.
He smiled and slid me a look. “Many lunar cycles. I am a wanderer, after all.”
“Of course. A wanderer. The perfect excuse to roam far from home for long periods.” My smile was wicked now and he returned it, that light in his eyes brightening. “I like that term. Wanderer. Maybe I’ll call myself a wanderer one day. When I can leave here.”
I scanned the horizon, a smile playing on my lips, warmth curling through me as I thought of all the adventures that awaited me out there.
“Wandering is dangerous. Holding allegiance to no court, even more so. Better you remain here, Saphira, where you are protected.”
I levelled a black look on him. “You sound like my father. Always telling me to stay with the pack where it’s safe. Well, look where that got me. Sold to a fae king.”
It was his turn to frown at me, his eyes darkening like a violent storm and the thrum of his power growing stronger against my skin. “Sold to a fae king? To Kaeleron?”
His black eyebrows pitched low and the very air around him darkened. Not the air around him. I raised my eyes to the sky. Clouds were gathering, heavy grey and ominous, blotting out the beautiful aurora-kissed heavens.
Oberon growled, “I came here because I had business with Kaeleron, and saw you and grew curious as to what a wolf was doing in Lucia… and now I discover it is because Kaeleron owns you.”
I nodded. “Isn’t it like him? It certainly feels like it is. He’s an overbearing asshole who issues me orders and makes me follow them or I will never earn my freedom from this place. I can’t stand him.”
My mood faltered again, all the light that had been building inside me while talking to Oberon flowing out of me. Kaeleron’s rejection rang in my mind, together with how distant he had been. He hadn’t really wanted to be there with me. He had only been helping me out of a sense of duty and responsibility, and maybe even guilt.
Oh gods, I had been a pity fuck of sorts.
Everything he had done, it had been done to ease his own mind.
And now it was all hitting me again in front of a man I barely knew and I couldn’t hide the hurt, couldn’t seem to school my features to pretend there wasn’t a part of me that was breaking.
“No, he is not like that,” Oberon murmured, some of the clouds breaking apart as he drew down a slow, deep breath, his shoulders heaving with the action, his gaze intense on me. Crimson ringed his pupils as he looked at me, his expression dark, and then he forced his gaze to above my head, towards the distant mountains, and snarled, “There will be a reckoning.”
I didn’t get a chance to ask what he meant by that.
One moment I could see him, and the next all I could see was darkness.
All I could feel was the cold press of shadows against my limbs.
“Now, now,” Oberon said, his tone all amusement, “it would appear you have little right to be angry with me, old friend. I should be the one angry with you. What were you thinking?”
I pushed against the cage of shadows wrapped around me, battering them with my fists, my struggles useless as my handspassed straight through them but I couldn’t escape them. I stumbled around in them, blind and beginning to panic.
And walked right into something very hard.
Very masculine.
That scent of wild storm hit me, rousing heat within me that quickly turned to horror as I backed away.
Kaeleron’s hand wrapped around my wrist, his grip so hard it hurt as he spun me around so my back was to his chest. His hand wrapped around the front of my throat, keeping me in place against him, his hold sheer possession that roused something startling within me. The feel of his claws poised so close to my skin, and all his strength against my back, stirred wicked need in my veins that had me trembling and breathless even when I knew I shouldn’t enjoy it.
I angled my head back, peering into the shadows, wanting to see his face.
The shadows dissipated as if I could command them, revealing him.
I stilled.
Oberon was wrong. Kaeleron wasn’t angry.
He was livid.
Darkness branched from his bright silver eyes, a corona of crimson encircling his pupils as he stared down at me, his lips set in a thin line and jaw flexing.
