Page 31 of Wolf Caged (Bound to the Shadow King #1)

Which I supposed it was, given that I had no intention of letting her go.

She sighed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a tailor before, or a seamstress. Some of the dresses in the window were beautiful. They look softer than the dresses worn at the castle. They flowed so elegantly on the mannequins.”

“And you shall have them all.” I tipped my wine glass towards her and her eyes lit up. I held back a grin as I added, “I shall add them to your debt.”

She scowled at me and then a slow smile wound its way across her wine-stained lips. “You’ll buy them for me… because you’ll want to see me in them.”

I did not bother to deny that.

I listened as she prattled on about her visit to the town, fascinated by how her face lit up as she spoke of the things she had seen. She was my captive—my property—and yet she seemed to be enjoying herself. Making the most of her situation? Or was she truly enjoying her time in my court?

“Enough about me. I must be boring you. What about you? What did you do today? You looked ready to flit away in black smoke this morning.” She sipped her wine and attacked another slice of meat.

“This morning?” I frowned over my wine at her.

She set her fork back down, the meat forgotten as she gazed at me. “When I saw you in the garden, crossing towards the castle, trying to outrun a gaggle of rather excited highborn who were dogging your every step.”

“I am flattered you watch me wherever I go. Perhaps you fear you might lose my attention to the ladies of my court?” I held her gaze, my fascination only growing as she snorted and rolled her eyes.

This was the candour I craved with her.

This back and forth between us, as if she was not a servant and I was not a king.

No one dared speak to me as she did.

“If you want such vile, horrible women warming your bed then go for it. I have no stake in this game of yours.” She took another sip of her wine and then lifted the glass in the air, saluting me with it. “I’m not interested in you.”

“Liar.” I smirked at her.

She huffed and inspected her wine, some of her warmth fading as she studied it rather than me.

“If I was watching you, it was only to see if one of your oh-so-dainty ladies might trip and fall on her face in her hurried pursuit of you. It would have brightened my day no end. Some of them need to be brought down a peg or two.”

I frowned now, my wine forgotten and my amusement gone as my shadows stirred in response to her words and the way she withdrew from me, seeming to curl inwards as if to protect herself.

“Do you have reason to desire such a thing?” I asked, voice as cold and dark as my shadows as they inched outwards, eager to scour the castle for the one who had upset the little wolf. “Has someone said something to you?”

She straightened and shrugged, and then cleared her throat, as if that would rid her of whatever was bothering her.

“It’s painfully clear I don’t belong here…

trapped in this stuffy castle surrounded by stuffy fae who think themselves far superior to everyone else.

” Her voice was too bright—too forced. Someone had said something to her, and it had wounded her, the little wolf who was normally so bold and so brave.

“I’ve never met such haughty, entitled and grossly rude people. ”

I was very much not amused now.

Shadows flowed from me, snuffing out the light of the fire and surrounding her, even though she did not notice, was too busy staring at her wine and avoiding looking at me.

“You will report any derisive remarks anyone makes about you to either myself or Jenavyr.” I dug my emerging claws into the arms of my chair, anchoring myself in place as she lifted bleak eyes to me, that look cleaving something within me.

Shadows spilled from it, dark and treacherous, hungry to make whoever had wounded the little wolf pay for their insolence.

“What do you care?” she bit out, anger flashing across her face as she bravely held my gaze, her eyes fixed on me but the way she stiffened telling me she had noticed my shadows and how they blanketed the room, a wall between us and everything else.

Everyone else. “You don’t seem to give much of a damn about them.

You couldn’t get away from them quickly enough. ”

“You are right. I do not care much for them. These lords and ladies belong to my court through their bloodlines. Through tradition. Their place in my court is written in the blood of their forefathers. I merely have to tolerate them, but my indifference towards them has led to some overstepping and believing they have power in my court and a right to do as they please.” My shadows closed in around her but her eyes never strayed from me, even as her shoulders tightened further, revealing she was well aware of their movement towards her.

My voice turned colder as anger burned through my veins, stoked by the thought that my failure to control my court might have led to Saphira being exposed to their more vicious side.

I had given them too much free rein, and now some among them believed they had a right to speak to another in my circle in a manner that had obviously wounded her.

“Tell me who offended you and they shall be dealt with.” The tips of my fingers blackened as I gripped the arms of my chair, struggling to hold back my wrath as I waited for a name, a direction to aim my fury.

Saphira folded her arms across her chest. “So you can murder them? Jenavyr told me how you deal with those who anger you. I’m not a snitch, and I can fight my own battles.”

“So I can punish them as they deserve and put them back in their place,” I corrected, and amusement rippled through me, a shimmering band of light that loosened the hold the darkness had on me as I studied the fierce little wolf who glowered at me, her chin tipped up in defiance. “And can you fight your own battles?”

She huffed. “I can.”

Sensing she would continue to refuse to name the one who had wounded her and that ordering her to reveal her attacker would only make her more angry, and less likely to speak, I made a mental note to speak with my sister and the guards who had been with Saphira this morning and gain a name that way.

Instead of pressing her, I changed the course of the conversation, circling back to something she had said that had caught my attention.

“You called my castle stuffy.”

She prodded at her meat. “It is stuffy.”

“Define stuffy .” I slowly calmed my shadows, reining them back under control, not wanting them to lash at the wolf if she said anything that offended me more than her declaration that my castle was ‘stuffy’ already had.

“You have every comfort you might need. You have one of the largest guest rooms and the only one with a balcony and a view of the entire town. Your every need is catered for. I feel that is rather gracious of me given your position.”

She leaned back in her seat and looked around her as my shadows fell away to reveal the room and the roaring fire, and sighed. “It’s a nice castle, and my rooms are far better than a cramped cell in a dungeon and I really have no complaints… but I do have a complaint.”

Contradictory little female.

“And your complaint is?” I refilled her wine glass for her and she didn’t even flinch this time, just picked the glass up and sipped it as if it was perfectly natural it had filled itself before her eyes.

She was growing accustomed to my world. To me. She had not even flinched when my shadows had encompassed her, filling the room.

“I don’t know. I just… the view is lovely, but it’s not…

My pack lands are densely forested, set in a valley deep in the mountains, and my home is a cabin, but I’m rarely in it.

I spend so much of my day outside, helping others, doing my work.

I guess… I think being inside all day just feels a bit…

claustrophobic. It’s a pretty cage, but a cage nonetheless. ”

Interesting.

The place where I had travelled to for the auction had been in such lands, far from any sizable town. It made sense that she might find the castle and the town confining given how open the land I had taken her from had been.

“I shall have to find you work that involves you being outdoors then.” I tapped my finger against the table, pretending to contemplate this, and then smirked at her. “Perhaps you can clean out the stables every morning.”

She glared at me for that and made an obscene gesture with her hand.

“Did you enjoy your sojourn around the town?” I wanted to hear more about it, to draw out that female who had been filled with light and excitement before she had fallen down a dark path by recalling what had happened to her this morning, before my sister had escorted her down into the town.

“I did. But… something bothered me when I was in the town. Are your people happy?”

“Yes.” I did not falter, did not even take a breath before I answered her. “My people are safe and have everything they need.”

Her gaze grew distant, her light dimming. “There’s a difference between being safe with everything you need and happy.”

“Is there?” I had given my people everything, had expended great magic to seal the borders to shield them from danger and did whatever was expected of me in order to keep the lands strong and fertile. They were safe and protected, and had no reason not to be happy.

Yet, the way Saphira looked at me, a wealth of hurt surfacing in her eyes, said at least one person in my court was unhappy.

“I was safe at my pack. I had everything I needed.” She toyed with the bottom of her wine glass, nudging it.

“But not everything you wanted,” I husked and her shoulders went rigid.

I sat back and hardened my tone, determined to shut down this line of conversation, because I was the king of this court and she had not seen enough of it to draw conclusions about how I ran it.

“Perhaps you are projecting your own feelings onto my people. I assure you, they have all they need and they want for nothing.”

She kept her gaze downcast and gave a subtle nod, and I felt sure she would hide in her wine glass for the rest of the meal, but then she pushed it away from her and lifted her head, her eyes locking with mine.

“It was rude of me. I’m sorry. If you believe your people are happy, then I’m sure they are happy.”

A veiled challenge.

“They are happy,” I declared, my tone firm. “Now, you were telling me of what you saw in the town. What did you find most fascinating? The market? The minotaurs? Those dresses you will soon receive?”

A flicker of light emerged in her eyes as she silently studied her wine and then she shuddered.

“It is not cold in here, so what did you recall that made you shiver?” I canted my head, curious now.

This female had taken everything in her stride so far, had stood up to me countless times and showed little fear of me, but something she had seen today had rattled her.

If it was the fae who had been rude to her, I would hunt them down and claim their heads and place them on pikes in the courtyard as a warning to others.

“After I saw the minotaurs, there were these tall, thin creatures dressed in black and they wore deer skulls as masks.”

I chuckled at her description, sure she would shiver again as I corrected her, “They do not wear masks.”

Her eyes went as round as full moons and just as bright. She blinked at me. “They don’t?”

I shook my head. “It is all them, I am afraid, and they would be offended to hear you speak of them in such a manner. Lich are sensitive, a fault born of centuries of persecution by the crueller fae of this world, who treat them as if they are an abomination. When I ascended the throne, I took great pains to win them over, because what many see as monsters, I see as powerful allies. The ones you saw today are the royal necromancers of my court.”

“Royal necromancers,” she murmured and met my gaze again. “What do they do?”

“They question the dead for me.”

Rather than looking horrified as I had expected, she looked fascinated by that, leaning forward a little as if she ached to know more.

Curious little creature.

Just how fearless was this lamb dressed in wolf’s clothing?

Fearless enough to face me in my true form?