The Wolf King | A Fantasy Romance

Chapter One

Dog fights are barbaric.

They say the fighters in the ring revel in violence. They say the wolf inside them is always looking for a release. Even on nights like tonight when the moon is not full and they look like men.

And don't they deserve violence for what they have done to our lands?

Yet how many will die? And for what?

I shift on the wooden chair, tugging at the high collar of my gown, then pushing an errant strand of red hair out of my face. It's hot in here. Too hot. Claustrophobic.

When I stepped out of the carriage two days ago, the rugged landscape of the Borderlands called to something deep inside of me—even though I have never been this far north before.

Thinking of what lies beyond these stone walls makes me want to rip off this dress, and escape this castle. I want to tear through the untamed grass and feel the wild dandelions between my toes. I want to smell the pine trees, and hear the wind howling through the mountains.

Instead, I take a sip of water, and clasp my hands tightly in my lap. I try not to flinch at the crack of bone that resounds through the Great Hall as one of the males is thrown across the floor. Blood splatters the flagstones by my silk slippers.

Lord Sebastian, sitting on the other side of my father, looks at me, something cruel and hungry in his gaze as he observes my discomfort.

I wonder if he's thinking about tomorrow night, our wedding night.

The thought makes me feel even sicker than the fight.

"Your daughter doesn't approve, Your Highness," he says to my father, only partially misreading the distaste that must be showing on my face.

"She is a woman," my father replies simply.

I bristle. Of course that is all my father sees when he looks at me.

It doesn't matter how many lords I have sweet-talked on his behalf, or how many balls I have attended to serve as a pretty distraction while he makes his plans for the war.

It doesn't matter that I agreed to this marriage to strengthen his kingdom.

"Of course." Sebastian nods, leaning back in his seat as though he doesn't notice the crown atop my father's neat white hair. "These creatures are unpleasant to behold for those of the fairer sex. Though surely she gains enjoyment from them killing one another. The wolf clans have ravaged our lands for centuries. They murder, and brutalize, and steal. To any woman traveling alone, unlucky enough to encounter one, they bring about fates even worse than death." He arches an eyebrow. "If you know what I mean."

"I do," says my father.

Sebastian sips his ale. "Though, I suppose your women do not encounter many Wolves down south—thanks to my armies guarding the border."

"An honorable duty in service of our great kingdom." My father doesn't deign to look at the lord. "And one that comes with its rewards."

"Oh, indeed." Sebastian's eyes darken.

I try not to recoil. I will my body to be a statue, a vessel for the soul within. I allow my mind to glide across those wild mountains, even though I can never go there myself. Even though I will always be a prisoner to castle walls, and a woman's body.

A prisoner. Or a prize. That is all I have ever been. I will be both when I am wed to the lord in exchange for his continued allegiance to my father.

"If she has some sentiment for the creatures, however—"