Page 173 of Wolf Caged
I curled those hands into fists at my sides, hating the kernel of truth in his words.
“I pray you never have to discover what it is like to face that choice—to have to decide whether to run or fight—to decide whether to bloody your delicate, soft hands, or let those you love die a horrible death and watch them ripped from you.”
I swallowed, a feeling growing within me. He was talking of his past now. I hung on every grim, painful word, because he was right. Faced with such a choice, I wasn’t sure if I would fall to my knees and beg and plead for the lives of my family, or rise to my feet and do whatever it took—no matter how bloody and terrible—to save them.
Kaeleron heaved a sigh as he walked to the arched window closest to me, his broad shoulders shifting with it beneath his black tunic.
“You do not know what I would do for my court.” He gazed out of the window at it, his shoulders rigid, heavy with that invisible burden. “Or the lengths I would go to in order to keepmy people safe… and if that makes me a monster, so be it. I would embrace all that is dark—that is violent—in my blood to save them.”
I believed that softly spoken vow.
His eyebrows lowered and pinched as his gaze dropped to the city and he whispered, “A king does not remain in control of a kingdom by being everyone’s friend, little wolf. You cannot rule with kindness. Not in this world. In this world, you need to keep everyone in line. You need to be firm. You need to do what you must to protect your people… even if those people cannot understand your actions.”
I leaned my right side against the stone arch of the door to the balcony as those words touched me deeply, connecting with a part of me that could understand his actions and his reasons for being as vicious and cold as he had been in the great hall.
“I know a little of what you speak about,” I said and then cleared my throat, putting more force behind my trembling voice. “Alpha wolves have to be strong and fierce, and rule with an iron fist if they’re to remain in power. The moment they show softness—weakness—another would rise to cut them down and take their place. My world and this one aren’t so different. They’re both brutal. Violent at times.”
I exhaled softly as I thought about my pack, lowering my gaze to Kaeleron’s legs as he turned towards me, his eyes on me now.
“My father rules with kindness and warmth, supporting our pack members and keeping them happy that way, doing his best to be a good alpha. But sometimes he needs to put people in their places. Not that it happens often. But sometimes… sometimes he has to be fierce, unyielding, to keep people in line.” And he had often sheltered me from that side of pack life, sending me away to the cabin so I didn’t witness it, as if he feared me seeing it would change my opinion of him.
Sour my love for him.
And maybe that was why Kaeleron had sent me away.
He hadn’t wanted me to see the darker, more brutal side of him, the ruthless king he needed to be at times in order to keep his position and keep his court safe.
But I had seen it.
And gods damn me, but it hadn’t changed my opinion of him.
My growing love for him.
I frowned at his clothing, a simple black tunic and pants, not the intimidating armour he had been wearing in the great hall. No crown on his head. No mask in place. This male before me wasn’t the wrathful king of the Shadow Court.
He was just Kaeleron.
A freshly bathed Kaeleron, judging by his damp black hair.
He had bathed before he had come to me, washing the stain of what he had done from his body and softening his appearance. I could still hear the way that fae had begged him, could scent their terror and feel their fear.
“Were they—” I started.
“They were of the Silver Court,” he finished for me, his voice soft but gaining a hard edge it often did whenever he spoke of his enemies.
“A seelie court,” I whispered, recalling the position of it from the map in the war room. It was south of the Summer Court, and only the mountainous Black Pass separated it from the Shadow Court.
He nodded, still holding himself at a distance from me.
“What were they doing here?” I stepped into the room, hating the distance between us, wanting to erase it and bring things back to how they had been last night, aching to feel that closeness to him again.
“They were sent to my court to gather information to report to their king.” He met me halfway and then took hold of myarm, his touch gentle as he gripped it and led me back onto the balcony.
“Spies.” I mourned the loss of contact between us as he released me. I moved to stand beside him, almost shoulder to shoulder with him as he stared at his city. His court. And then his silver gaze was on me again, open and calm, a flicker of warmth shimmering in its depths. I looked west, towards the border there. “Were they the ones spotted in Wraith Wood?”
He inclined his head, his gaze distant as it drifted back to the city.
Beyond it, I realised.
