Taming the Wolf King novel · Chapter 11 of 32

Chapter 11: Coldwell

I didn't tell Caspian what Raife had said until we were in the truck.

The Dean had given us the weekend.

A Tamer stays with the King day and night, so if I was going home, the King was coming with me.

Caspian had packed one duffel bag and a box of Annis's scones.

Now he sat in the passenger seat of my old blue pickup with his knees against the dashboard.

"He said it wasn't her idea," I said. "Your uncle. He said she hasn't the imagination."

Caspian looked out at the red maples going by.

"He was being clever. He likes being clever."

"He was telling me something."

"He was telling you he's smarter than Araminta. Everyone knows that."

"Cas."

He turned his head.

Nobody called him that.

I hadn't meant to.

"Let me meet your grandfather first," he said, "before we talk about my uncle."

Coldwell Sanctuary sat at the end of a dirt road outside Stowe, under Mount Mansfield.

A white farmhouse with a sagging porch.

A big red barn.

And behind it, eleven long pens of chain link and pine poles, running up the hill into the woods.

Grandpa was on the porch in his barn coat with his arms crossed.

He was seventy-four and built like a fence post.

He came down the steps and looked Caspian up and down for a long time.

"So you're the King," he said.

"Yes, sir."

"You're the one whose wolf went through a church window."

"It was a great hall, sir."

"Had a stained-glass window?"

"Yes."

"Church window." Grandpa held out a hand like a shovel. "You eat chili?"

Caspian shook it.

"I eat anything."

"Good. Boots are in the mudroom. Stalls need doing."

Caspian looked at me.

I smiled sweetly.

"Say please," I said.

"Please may I have some boots," Caspian said to my grandfather.

Grandpa looked at me.

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