Page 66 of Wolf Caged (Bound to the Shadow King #1)

And hurled myself into a pattern of attack that Vyr had declared suited my speed and agility, keeping low to make myself a smaller target as I put on a burst of speed to pass Kaeleron and come around behind him. He twisted with me, denying me his back, and caught my fist as it flew at him.

I screamed as he twisted my arm and then shoved, releasing me as I stumbled backwards.

“Try harder,” he snarled.

Anger flashing in his eyes.

Or was it disappointment?

That feeling rolled through me as I launched another attack out of nowhere, a swift barrage of punches without a trace of my intent, a move that had caught Vyr off guard more than once.

Kaeleron huffed and blocked each one as he moved back step by step, keeping the distance between us steady, his hands as swift as mine were, allowing not a single blow to touch him.

“This isn’t fair,” I snapped, glaring at him as he resumed a relaxed pose, waiting for me to try again.

Acting as if I wasn’t a threat to him.

Bastard.

I breathed hard, anger spiking as frustration coiled tightly within me.

“Life is not fair, little wolf. It is brutal. It is cold. It is pain. Anyone who believes otherwise is a blind fool.” Kaeleron extended his arm towards me, turned his hand palm upwards and rolled his fingers, gesturing for me to come at him again.

“You have centuries of experience,” I bit out. “You’ve been trained for war. Have fought in wars. I don’t stand a chance and you know it.”

“Not with that attitude, you do not,” he growled and narrowed his eyes on me as his jaw flexed. “Land one blow on me, little wolf. That is all I am asking.”

One blow.

He said it as if it was easy. Possible.

He might as well have asked me to pluck the moon from the sky.

The difference between our skill was vast and undeniable, and infuriating.

But I wasn’t going to give up.

I curled my hands into tight fists and drew down a slow breath to steady my heart, to calm my nerves, and sharpen my focus.

One blow. I could do this. Just one hit.

That was all I had to land. My wolf side growled and bared fangs at him as he shifted his left foot behind him, a move he had done more than once, revealing he favoured his right side.

My gaze darted over him, calculating, studying my prey.

He would try to come around me again, using his speed to gain the upper hand.

This time, I would be ready for him.

I wasn’t.

I let out a bark of frustration as pain splintered across my lower spine, his blow no harder than Jenavyr’s had been during training, but infinitely more frustrating.

“Stop leaving yourself open,” he purred into my ear, his breath caressing my skin.

I whirled, my right fist flying at where his head should have been.

Should. Have. Been.

Instead, he was behind me again, hands clamping down onto the curve of my waist as he chuckled in my ear.

“Fuck. You,” I snarled and stomped with my left foot, aiming it at his ankle.

Hitting nothing but grass.

He was in front of me before I noticed, his fist stopping just short of slamming into my stomach.

The control he had. The skill. It stole my breath and roused my primal instincts, stirring my wolf side into a frenzy within me as he launched into a barrage of punches I struggled to block.

I admired his masculine strength and warrior skill, the way he turned this fight into a deadly dance, even as I grew more and more frustrated.

That frustration got the better of me when I missed blocking one of his punches and it struck my right shoulder, knocking it back, and I followed up with a right hook of my own while he was distracted by what he had done.

And he blocked my forearm with his, knocking it away with more force this time.

I stumbled and fell, hitting the grass hard, humiliated by how easily he could predict my moves and block them, by how weak I was.

That dreadful, cold feeling of self-loathing became a burning whirlwind of anger and rage as he loomed over me and sneered.

“Is that all you have?”

That question rang in my ears, mocking me, flooding me with doubt. Was it all I had? Where was that strength he had seen in me?

Did he think I was weak now?

The thought that he might was like fuel on the fire blazing within me, and a desperate, wild need to prove I wasn’t was the catalyst that sparked something within me to life.

Something fierce.

Something untamed.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was launching from the ground, sailing through the air towards him and shifting as I went.

The sound of ripping material accompanied the screaming pain of my bones elongating and shrinking, the kiss of cool air fading under the insulating warmth of the white fur that swept down my body.

All of my senses sharpened, the scent of Kaeleron swirling around me as he stood there.

Shocked.

Open.

My paws slammed against his body.

My fangs sank into his shoulder.

My claws raked down his chest.

Blood coated my tongue, the metallic tang of it bringing me to my senses.

Oh gods.

I shoved off him, panting hard, springing away to a safe distance as I stared at him, at the blood trickling down his chest as he slowly lowered his surprised gaze to it.

What had I done?

He slowly canted his head and arched an eyebrow at the bleeding gashes on his chest.

And then he blinked and when his eyes opened, he was looking right at me.

“Oh,” he murmured, voice low and eerily calm. “I did not realise we were letting our beasts out.”

My ability to breathe left me as his skin paled to moon white, as inky shadows branched from his eyes and his lips darkened towards black, and the sculpted planes of his face grew more angular, feral.

His lips split in a wide vicious grin that revealed jagged sharp teeth and his fingers flexed, the upper thirds of them stained black like the skin around his eyes as his nails transformed into inch long onyx claws.

The pointed tips of his ears grew sharper as he inhaled, his chest straining with the hard breath he took, luring my gaze down to it.

Beautiful lines of ancient fae markings appeared on his alabaster skin, sweeping from his armpits along the line of his square pectorals to trail around their forms to his throat and over his collarbones where they faded to nothing.

But it was his eyes that bewitched me the most, had me frozen in place as I stared into them.

Crimson bled into the silver, like ink swirling in water, leaving only a jagged band of that familiar colour around his elliptical pupils.

I had never seen anything like him as shadows gathered around him.

Knew I should fear him.

Everything in me knew it, like some buried instinct that warned this male before me was dangerous, deadly, and whispered at me to run. Run fast. Run far. Before he could kill me.

Something dark glittered in his eyes, something vicious and dangerous.

I denied the instinct to run from him, shutting it down with great effort, because the only way to stop this from escalating was to do the opposite. It was to face him and apologise for what I had done.

I let the shift come over me, shaking off my wolf form.

He disappeared in a blur of night. The hairs on my nape rose, my skin prickling as awareness shot down my spine as I finished the shift.

As he slammed into me, his full body pressing against mine, startling me.

A gasp tore from my lips as he grasped my nape in a bruising grip.

And sank sharp teeth into my shoulder.

Before the pain could even register, he pulled his fangs from my flesh and swiped his tongue over the puncture wounds, the slowness of that caress sending pleasure rippling through me.

I trembled with it as he eased back, staring at the marks he had placed on me, a crinkle forming between the dark slashes of his eyebrows.

His hand lowered to my neck, his fingers teasing the over-sensitive skin around his bite mark, his expression unreadable.

His strange eyes lifted to meet mine, something flaring in them as they widened.

And then he was gone.

And I was alone.

I looked down at myself.

And very naked.

My ruined clothes lay a few feet from me, utterly unusable now. I could shift and trot back to the castle, but I didn’t want to let my wolf out when others might see it. I still couldn’t believe I had shown it to Kaeleron so easily, sharing that part of myself with him.

All because I had lost my temper.

I huffed and stilled as his scent teased me, my gaze drifting to the source of it.

His clothes.

I shrugged and padded across the grass to them, picked up his tunic and slipped it on.

It smelled strongly of him, all wild winter storm and masculine strength, and I drew down a deep breath as I bought the material to my nose, savouring his scent.

I hooked his boots over my forearm and buttoned the tunic that reached my knees, covering me nicely.

I strolled back to my own boots and weapon belt, adding them to the bundle in my arms, and headed for the trees.

I paused at the edge of the glade, glancing back at it, seeing a replay of Kaeleron’s transformation and how quickly he had moved.

I brushed my fingers over the marks on my throat and shivered again, my nape tingling and need pooling low in my belly.

I shut down that hunger born of my primal instincts to mate, to feel my fated one’s fangs in my nape, marking me as his.

It would never happen, and while Lucas’s rejection had deeply wounded me, part of me was glad he had done it now.

I was glad I hadn’t found myself bound to such a ruthless, despicable and unworthy male.

I turned back towards the castle, feeling as if I was turning my back on my past, on that make-believe love I had felt for Lucas, shutting a door on a fantasy that I should have known was just that—a fantasy.

Real life wasn’t all white picket fences, an adoring and faultless mate, a blissful bond and two point four pups.

Kaeleron was right about that. And I had been a blind fool.

Believing life was fair, that my mate was faultless, that everything my parents had done had been right.

But now my eyes were open.

I strode towards the looming castle, tightly hugging my boots and Kaeleron’s to my chest, breathing in his scent and replaying our fight, picking out all the places I had made mistakes or could have done something different to turn the tides in my favour.

Studying it so next time I would beat him.

Without needing to let my wolf out.

I saw a flash of him transformed into darkness and fear made flesh, a male most would have found terrifying and would have run from.

Something was very wrong with me.

Because rather than finding that new, darker appearance disturbing and frightening.

I had wanted him.

And rather than wanting to run from him.

I had wanted to run to him.