Page 76 of Wolf Caged (Bound to the Shadow King #1)

KAELERON

“ S aphira.” I slowly picked myself up off the courtyard flagstones, a deep ache throbbing in my bones wherever Malachi had struck me and my head pounding.

But my pain did not matter. All that mattered was the furious bundle of white fur and sharp fangs that had thrown herself into the fray, risking injury.

To protect me.

Malachi dared to move.

The big white wolf between me and him skidded forwards a few steps, snarling and snapping fangs at him, driving him back, and then she growled low as she slowly crept backwards towards me, her head jerking with her rapid movements as she catalogued the crowd gathered around us.

Watching all of them in case they dared to attack me as the demon had.

“Saphira,” I coaxed, gentling my voice and gathering shadows to me, in case she needed protecting from Malachi.

The demon did not look inclined to attack her as he warily watched her, the reddish-purple fire in his irises fading as she bared fangs at him, threatening him.

Blood tracked down Malachi’s chest from the claw and bite marks she had placed on him, wounds he did not seem to notice as he kept his focus fixed on the wolf before him.

In fact, Malachi looked fascinated by her.

Because she was defending me, acting nothing like a slave might, or a female who had been purchased for her body.

I eased forwards towards Saphira as the thicker fur at her nape shook and she snarled, gnashing fangs and licking her lips.

Some hollow thing inside my chest warmed at the sight of her, at the fact she was defending me, shielding me from the one she perceived as my enemy. She was no match for the demon warrior if he put any effort into attacking her, but she stood her ground on trembling paws regardless.

To protect me.

Someone unworthy of such kindness, her kindness and warmth.

I reached for her ruff and she stiffened as my fingertips brushed her fur and went to turn on me, but I plunged my hand deep into the thick fur at her nape and gripped it hard. Massaging that spot.

“I am fine,” I murmured. “You can back down now, little wolf.”

She lifted her snout and looked at me.

And snarled.

Raw rage blazed in her eyes as she took me in, and I knew how bad it looked, how wounds littered my body and blood soaked my tattered clothing, but these wounds would heal, and Malachi had pulled his punches, which had been more than I deserved for what I had done by breaking our unspoken covenant that this court would never own a slave.

The wolf looked at Jenavyr where she stood off to one side, the remains of Saphira’s blouse wrapped around her arm to stanch the bleeding from wounds my little wolf had inflicted when she had shifted, so desperate to reach me she had fought my sister.

Panic emerged in Saphira’s clear blue eyes, fury directed at herself now, blending with the rage she felt towards Malachi and her instinct to protect, holding her within its power.

“Calm, Saphira,” I murmured, massaging her nape, trying to reach her even as I began to feel it was impossible.

The hold of her instincts were too strong, and the panic in her eyes was a blade that pierced my heart and made me try harder to reach her, to shatter their grip on her and free her from them when she could not do it herself, when she desperately wanted to be free.

Malachi moved.

Damn him.

Saphira snarled and lunged for him, but I gripped her fur and nape hard, barely managing to hold her in place. I drove her down against the flagstones, pinning her, staining her fur with the blood spilled by my fight with Malachi.

I glared at the demon, silently ordering him to remain where he was, to keep still so he did not provoke her again.

Whenever the need to protect me rose, she lost whatever progress she made with calming her instincts and returning to me, I was sure of it as I massaged the tension from her nape, as she slowly began to relax beneath my touch again.

“Calm, little wolf,” I whispered, the feel of her fur soft against my palm warm and strangely comforting.

The tightness in her trembling body slowly subsided despite her growls directed at Malachi.

I knew the moment her wolf instincts loosened their hold on her, as if some deep part of us was threaded together and entwined, speaking to me, and I knew before I broke my hold what she would do.

She shot off.

“Let her pass,” I shouted to the members of my court blocking her path.

They were quick to part, but she leaped over them regardless, sailing high in the air as if she could not wait even a second longer to escape what she had done.

Vyr stepped forwards and looked at me and then in the direction Saphira had run, waiting for me to order her to go after the little wolf to keep an eye on her.

I shook my head, denying her, because Saphira needed time.

Her actions had shocked her and she was likely questioning the reaction now, and embarrassed about her public show of force and how she had leaped in to protect me in front of so many people.

I had to admit, I was a little confused about it too, and the more I replayed what she had done, the more that feeling I was on dangerous ground grew stronger.

“I like her,” Malachi grunted. “She has some balls.”

I levelled a black look on my spymaster as I pushed to my feet, gritting my teeth to hide my grimace as pain ricocheted through me.

Malachi looked me over, regret tainting his eyes, and I waved him away, not wanting him to feel bad about what he had done because I had deserved his wrath.

“I told you what would happen,” Vyr muttered as she came to me and frowned at the cuts that littered my chest, a concerned crinkle to her brow. “You need to see the court physicians.”

I shot her a black look too and then sighed as I looked off in the direction Saphira had fled, my gaze tracking over the endless trees and then up, to a little speck on the mountainside.

The cottage. Every instinct I possessed told me she would run there, where she had shelter and was away from the world, could be alone to mull over what she had done and no doubt be angry with herself.

I would give her time to find her calm and her balance again, and then I would surrender to this growing demand within me and would go to her, reassuring myself that she was safe and that today’s reports from the woods were thorough and true and the harpies had moved north-west, away from the castle.

I glanced at the ring I wore on my finger, one that matched the band on hers, the metal enchanted so it would shift with her.

The white stone in the centre of the crescent moons twinkled softly in hues of the aurora.

White for Lucia.

I focused on that small crystal, willing it to reveal more. Needing it to reveal more.

The colour of it shifted, swirling with the rainbow hues of the aurora before it settled on a pure, clear amethyst.

Telling me its twin, the one Saphira wore, was still within the Lucia shadows.

Still close to me then. Still within my reach.

It was all the reassurance I could have right now.

Soon, I would see with my own eyes that she was all right.

“You were not meant to return until tomorrow,” I grumbled at Malachi as I pressed my left hand to my shoulder and rolled it, feeling the bone grate in the socket.

Mal lifted a black eyebrow and then understanding dawned in his onyx eyes. “You wanted to prepare her.”

I huffed. “I at least wanted to tell her who you are and what to expect, and it might not have hurt to try to teach her to hold her tongue.”

“She is a fiery one.” Mal looked over his shoulder in the direction she had run.

“You have no idea,” I muttered as I scowled at the gathered crowd, the silent threat enough to have them breaking apart and disappearing from sight, leaving me alone in the courtyard with Malachi and my sister.

“I like her.” Mal nodded as his horns slowly shrank back to their usual size, the golden tips I had made for him when he had joined the Shadow Court barely reaching his earlobes now.

It had taken several attempts and a lot of research to forge them, enchanting them so they moved and grew with his horns just as the end third of them would have before the seelie had chopped them off to shame him.

I had tried to make him whole again. I glanced at the thick metal torc he wore around his neck, another gift I had made him, an item all demon males wore when they lost their fated mate.

Or I had tried to make him as whole as possible.

I grunted as I limped towards the castle.

My words a vicious, possessive snarl.

“She is not for you.”