Taming the Wolf King novel · Chapter 16 of 32

Chapter 16: Accepted

I stood very still with his hands on my face.

The wind came up the outside of the tower and pulled at the wet velvet.

"Say it again," I said.

"I'm done refusing you."

"You said not ever. At the kitchen table. With my needle in your arm."

"I know what I said."

"What changed?"

He laughed, low and rough.

"You threw a glass of wine at the most dangerous girl in Greyling to save a dress."

"That's not an answer."

"It's part of one."

He let go of my face and took my hands instead.

His were shaking.

"I've been holding him back since the first day of term," he said. "My wolf. He knew you on the hill and I told him no. Every night for five weeks I told him no."

"I know."

"Tonight I walked across that floor, and he didn't fight me. Not once. Because for once I was going where he was going."

He looked down at our hands.

"My father lost my mother and it took him apart. I've been so scared of that I've been tearing myself apart instead. On purpose. To be safe."

"Cas."

"I don't want to be safe. I want you."

My eyes stung.

I blinked hard.

"What does it mean?" I asked. "Accepting it. What actually happens?"

"Nothing you'd see. I stop saying no. I let him have what he wants." He swallowed. "And it closes. Both ends. You'd feel me. Not my thoughts. Just me. Where I am. If I'm hurt."

"Is there biting?"

"No."

"Because if your wolf breaks my skin, you're unfit."

"I know the law, Sally." A ghost of a smile. "It doesn't take teeth. It just takes yes."

"From you."

"From both of us."

The moon had come out over the lake.

I could see every lash on his face.

"Then ask me," I said. "Properly."

He didn't hesitate.

"Sally Coldwell," he said. "I want you. Not my Tamer. Not a deal. You. Tonight and after. Will you have me?"

"Say please."

"Please."

"Yes," I said.

The word went through me.

He made a sound I'd never heard from him, half a laugh and half something breaking.

Then he pushed the oak door open behind him without looking, picked me up off the top step, wine and velvet and all, and carried me inside.

He set me down just inside the door and didn't let go of my waist.

The fire had gone to embers.

The room was warm and dark except for the moon through the window.

I looked up at him.

"Take off the jacket," I said.

He didn't move.

"Now you're giving orders."

"You asked properly. Now I'm answering properly." I put my hands flat on his chest. "Jacket."

He shrugged it off and let it fall to the floor behind him.

I reached for his tie and pulled the knot loose, slow, watching his face.

His eyes stayed grey, but something under them moved.

"Stand still," I said.

"I'm standing still."

"You're shaking."

"So are you."

I got the tie off and dropped it on the jacket.

Then I unbuttoned his shirt, one button at a time, from the collar down.

He watched my hands the whole way.

"Say something," I said.

"I'm not ruining this by talking."

"Since when do you ruin things by talking?"

"Since I want to watch you undress me and I can't do both."

I laughed, and the sound came out unsteady.

I pushed the shirt off his shoulders.

It caught at his wrists and he shook it loose without looking away from me.

The firelight from the embers picked out the fishbone scar on his jaw, the stitched line on his forearm, the healing bite on his left shoulder.

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