The Scarred Prince (The Wolf's Pet Book One) (6 page)

The messenger.

I looked up. He was locked away nearby. His scent still lingered in the air. If I breathed deeply, I could smell it—dark and musky and dangerous. I got to my feet slowly, carefully, as though I was not sure what I was going to do next. But my gut had already decided for me. I circled back, around the longhouse, and headed toward the storage cabin.

One security guard stood outside the door. I knew him well; he was the younger guard who often joked around with us. Max. I nodded to him as I moved closer, into the light.

“Hey, Max.”

“Kinaya? What are they talking about in the council?”

“I don’t know,” I said, shrugging casually. “They kicked me and Blaise out.”

“Will there be war?”

“I hope not,” I said, echoing the words of my dad.

“What are you doing here?”

“Blaise wanted to talk with you,” I said, making up the lie as I went. At that moment, I felt invincible. I had decided what I needed to do—talk to the messenger. Now I would do it. It was as simple as that.

“About the war?”

“Yes,” I said. That part was true, anyway. “My dad said we needed to start preparing for the worst. If what he says is true.”

“The prisoner?”

“Yes,” I said, acting nonchalant. “Where is he?”

“Tied up inside,” Max said. He spat on the ground. “The bastard.”

“You tied him up good, I hope?” I asked.

“If he could get out of those knots, he’s Harry fucking Houdini,” Max said. “Don’t worry, he’s not going anywhere. See?”

He stepped aside. Through the open doorway, I could see the prisoner’s back. He was sitting with his face away from us, his wrists tied behind him around a support pole. His robes shrouded him like a dark spirit. The image came into my mind of a bat settling down, wrapping its wings around its body.

“Blaise is sending Ziv over,” I said. The lie came out automatically. “I can stay here and guard the door until he comes if you want to go and speak with them. They’re all there.”

Max frowned. I knew he hated being left out of things.

“Are you sure?”

“That’s what my dad said,” I said innocently. I’d never lied to Max before, never. He had no reason to distrust me, not at all. I counted on that—on my eighteen years of unflinching abidance by the rules. I was responsible. I was reasonable. He
had
to agree with me.

I held my breath. Finally, after what seemed like an hour of waiting but must have only been a second, he nodded.

“Alright, but you keep this blade,” he said. He pressed the wolf bone knife into my hands. “Just in case.”

I took the knife from him. The bone handle was cold in my fingers. I clutched it tightly.

“You can see him from here,” Max said, motioning. “You can see the knots from here, too. If he moves at all, you can just yell out. They can hear you from the longhouse here if you’re loud about it.”

“Okay,” I said, anxious to see him go. I would only have a few minutes. Maybe not even that.

“I’ll tell Ziv to hurry if I see him. Bye, Kinaya.”

“Thanks, Max,” I said. I didn’t like lying to him. But some deeper strength inside of me had pushed me forward despite that.

I
needed
to speak to the messenger. I needed to see if there was a way that we could avoid going to war.

And like my dad said, there wasn’t much time left.

I waited until Max had turned the corner, and then I turned. Gripping the wolf bone knife, I stepped into the open doorway.

Chapter Ten

I stepped toward the messenger. He was huge. His legs stretched out in front of him, ankles tied. His wrists were behind the pole, and just like Max had said, they were tied up. The ropes were so tight that they cut into his skin, and blood welled at the line where the knot was tied. How he would get out was beyond imagining. I breathed out slightly.

The fire in the hearth was a dull ember. The storage cabin was almost never heated, and the room was almost as chilly as it was outside. Shivers ran down my arms.

He spoke without moving.

“What do you want, Princess?”

I stood up straighter. Moving past him, I studiously ignored meeting his gaze. Switching the knife to my other hand, I picked up a log and threw it in the fireplace. The fire began to candle up, the small flames illuminating the inside of the storage cabin. There were gaps in the logs, and I could hear the wind whistling past them outside.

“You should always hold your blade with your dominant hand,” the messenger said.

“I’m not a princess,” I said, switching my knife back quickly. “And how do you know I’m not right-handed?”

“Your fork,” he said. “At the dinner table. It was lying on the left of your plate in the mashed sweet potatoes.”

I stared at him.

“I’m very observant,” he said. I swore I could see a flash of light in his blue eyes. They looked like darkened crystals in the dim flickering of the fire. His face was curtained by the black robes he wore. I had a strange urge to tear them aside, to see if he was hiding anything. But no, the guards would have already searched him and found nothing.

“Are you?”

“That’s why they sent me here as a messenger.”

“As a scout, you mean.”

“One and the same,” he said. “I’m the fastest runner in our land. That is why I am the prince’s messenger.”

“Are you that fast?” I asked doubtfully. He smiled.

“I fly on the howls of wolves. When a message touches my ear, it has the prince’s attention.”

“You’re proud of that.”

“Yes.”

“Pride is a sin,” I said uncertainly. A sin I had committed many times.

“Only if you can’t back it up with action. I’m an excellent messenger and scout.”

“You’re doing a bad job of it.”

“How’s that?”

“You’re tied up here, aren’t you? They might even kill you. That’s not very good scouting, is it?”

I tried to speak boldly to him, but all my courage had left me. It was another moment before I realized why.

He lifted his eyes to me and smiled. It wasn’t the look of his that made me tremble inside. No, it was his scent. He smelled like fir, like autumn, like smoke and leather and wolf, all mixed into one. But there was one thing missing.

There was no scent of fear.

I swallowed.

“Left-handed and the daughter in a twin pair. You got the raw end of the deal, didn’t you?”

I narrowed my eyes.

“If we could talk for a second—”

“What’s your name, Princess?”

“I’m not a princess,” I said. “We don’t do caste systems here.”

“You don’t?”

“No. I’m the alpha’s daughter, that’s all.”

His teeth flashed in the flickering light.

“Alpha’s daughter. Not the alpha’s son?”

I paused. The way he spoke gave the words an extra meaning.

“What do you know about that?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.

“I know lots of things about your pack,” the man said. “I know you have a twin.”

“I know nothing about your pack,” I said, trying to change the subject.

“Really?”

His voice was loud, filling the storage cabin, and I involuntarily glanced to the door. I worried that someone would hear and come running.

“Princess, tsk, tsk. You don’t want anyone to know you’re here?” His eyes taunted me.

“That’s not… I’m not…”

“Sneaking away like this to see me? What would your daddy think?”

“I’m not sneaking away,” I said, frowning. “I just wanted to talk with you. To see if we can avoid going to war.”

“I think I liked it better when you just wanted to talk with me.”

He leered at me. I bit my lip. I wouldn’t get sucked into his game.

“I want to talk about strategies—”

“You know what I would do to a girl like you?” he interrupted.

I crossed my arms and stared at him. From under his black robes, his lips curved into a thin smile.

“I can imagine,” I said.

“No, you can’t.”

I breathed in, but there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. I turned to put another log on the fire, keeping my knife securely in my left hand. Without his gaze on mine, I could breathe more easily. Of course, this wouldn’t be easy. But I hadn’t counted on my physical reaction to the prisoner.

He scared me, to be sure. I stayed out of his range. Even though his feet were bound along with his wrists, I couldn’t help but be wary.

“I’ll tell you what I would do to you, Princess,” he said. “But first, tell me your name.”

“Kinaya,” I said quickly. “But I don’t want—”

“Kinaya.” He repeated my name, rolled it around on his tongue. I exhaled a breath.

“Kinaya, Kinaya. A true shifter name.”

“What’s yours?”

“Alekk.” He paused, scrutinizing my face. “That doesn’t mean anything to you, does it?”

I shook my head.

“That’s interesting. You know absolutely nothing about our pack.”

“We’re not interested in fighting with you,” I said.

“Kinaya.”

Alekk said my name and looked at me, saying nothing else. I didn’t know what he was trying to get at.

“Never mind names. I’m trying to talk with you,” I said, exasperated.

“And here we are. Talking. With my wrists and ankles bound tight. Is this how you treat your prisoners?”

I frowned. I didn’t like his wrists being cut by the ropes. But I couldn’t loosen them. That was asking for trouble.

“I’m sorry your wrists hurt,” I said lamely. “But I can’t untie you.”

“No. That would be unwise.” His eyes flickered the reflection of the fire. It was getting warmer in the storage cabin. I stood next to the flames, not wanting to get any closer to him. I licked my lips. This wasn’t going at all how I thought it would go.

“Unwise?”

Alekk stared at me blankly, the black robes framing his face. His dark features were impossible to read.

“If my hands were free, I would disarm you in an instant, Kinaya,” he said. “I would grab you by the wrists and rip your clothes off.”

My breath caught in my throat. I opened my mouth to speak, but I had nothing to say. His voice, low and thunderous, seemed to mesmerize me. His eyes shone like blue crystals.

“I would lay you across my lap and spank you until your skin turned red. You’re naughty, Kinaya. Deliciously naughty. But in our pack, you’re only good for one thing.”

My skin was already red, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. Why had I come here? For this? He was only a messenger. There was no way he could negotiate usefully. He had nothing to say to me but taunts.

“Kinaya.”

I stared at him, my eyes searing with the warmth of the fire. I shouldn’t have told him my name. The way he spoke it, it was like pulling out the thread that held me together. I didn’t know why I reacted so deeply to him, but my body told me that I should stay.

“I would break every piece of you, lick every inch of your skin and take you without shame. I would tame you, Kinaya.”

I shivered, although by the fire it was warm.

“I would take you like a wild dog. My bitch.”

“Do you hate us that much?” I asked.

Alekk’s eyes widened, and then he did something unexpected.

He laughed.

Chin raised high, his laughter burst forth. His scarf fell off of his head, and I saw that his hair had been shaved down. Dark stubble was all that remained.

“You’re laughing?”

He stopped and sighed, the grin still on his face.

“You are wonderfully innocent, Kinaya. Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.”

How could I be worried? His hands and feet were bound. But all the same, I felt my muscles relax. The fingers holding the wolf bone blade loosened.

“There is one favor I would ask of you.”

“What is it?” I snapped.

“You’re so harsh,” he said. “What have I ever done to you?”

“Nothing, thanks to your hands being tied. And I’m not inclined to give favors to someone who would threaten my pack. Who would threaten
me
.”

“Your father could surrender, and your pack would be fine,” he said, shrugging. “It’s none of my concern now.”

“What if he decides to kill you?” I asked. I was curious if the man was really as brave as he seemed.

“Then I will die.”

Alekk glanced at me with something in his eyes that looked like need.

“But maybe I will die of starvation first,” he said.

“You’re hungry?”

“It was a three day journey to your pack. I am very hungry.”

“The guards will feed you,” I said flatly. “My father wouldn’t let you go hungry.”

“I’m sure he was the one who sent the plate of food.” He nodded down to the ground, where a plate of biscuits and still-steaming potatoes lay near his legs. Of course, he couldn’t reach the foods with his tied hands.

“They’ll feed you when they’re ready to feed you,” I said, frowning. I was uncertain. Why wouldn’t Max have given him the food? As if he could hear my thoughts, the messenger spoke.

“The guards aren’t fond of me.”

“Neither am I.”

The moment I said it, a strange sensation pricked at the back of my skin. I couldn’t speak the words boldly, as I had imagined them. Instead, they came out weak, soft. As though I were lying.

“A piece of bread,” he said. His eyebrows knitted together, and his pitch rose a half-note, wheedling. “Have mercy. A small bit of kindness…”

My dad always told us that it was better to be kind than anything else. Well, I would be kind and cautious.

“Fine.” I walked around the pole where he was tied, making sure to keep well out of his reach. I examined the knots that were cutting into Alekk’s wrists. The blood was clotting dark red against the rope. There was no way he could get out. I would tell Max and Ziv to loosen the knots, once either of them returned. It had already been a few minutes. Surely they would realize their mistake soon.

Coming back around to his side, I sheathed the wolf bone knife and tucked it into my belt. He wouldn’t be able to knock it away, even if he kicked out with his bound feet. My muscles tensed as I bent down and picked up the plate.

“Break off a piece of the bread, please,” he said. I obliged. The need in his eyes burned, and I could smell a scent of desperation. I tore off a bit of biscuit and fed it to him carefully. He chewed quickly and I gave him another, then another.