My body wants him. It’s undeniable.
I’ve been in his room before, but it feels different as a place to sleep instead of just a stop for shower privileges. This is the biggest bedroom I’ve been in. I gape at each detail, astonished.
The guilt over living in a castle while we slept outside haunted Colin. He wanted us there, tried to get us in, at least. Fear held him back that people might not accept us, even if he pushed. Winning them over had to come first.
“What? Are you going to tell me it’s too much? That one person doesn’t need all of this? Or some other way to blame me for the entire realm’s poverty?” Caleb mocks.
“First of all, I sound nothing like that.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Second, a single persondoesn’tneed all of this, but that wasn’t what I was going to say.”
“Then what?”
I slowly round the bed, eyeing it curiously. I press my hand on it, testing its spring and comfort and frown.
He catches my expression. “What?”
I can’t tell him that I’m thinking this will be the first bed I’ve slept in. It’s embarrassing enough, and the last thing I want is his pity.
Instead, I shake my head. “Nothing.”
“No, really. Let me have it. It’s too big for one person... Too clean... Too comfortable... Tell me, how have I disgusted you today?”
Judging by his tone, I think he’s expecting a snooty response, which I guess is fair. After what happened earlier, I suddenly care what he thinks. Idon’twant him to believe that was the attitude I meant to give.
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and cross my arms. Not in a huff, not like a child in a tantrum but discomfort. Quietly, I say, “I’ve never slept in a real bed before.”
His eyes soften, regretting his earlier tone. “Never?”
“Not that I can remember, no.”
And there it is, clear as day. The pity in his eyes.
I shift uncomfortably, sitting on my hands. “It’s not a big deal. Our herd didn’t experience homage. Any time we got close to it, we’d be forced to leave. When those times came, it was easier to move without belongings. A mattress would’ve been impractical. I’ve always slept in a hammock, or in my wolf form in a den somewhere or cave if I find one.”
Caleb’s glance lingers, and the silence settles between us.
I keep waiting for him to stop looking at me like that.
He finally does and grabs a pair of boxers and a shirt out of his dresser drawer and hands them to me.
“So, I can take the collar off now?” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.
A smile spreads as his gaze lands on the collar he placed on me prior to our game of capture the arrow. “For now, you’ll wear the collar when you’re here with me but not out in public.”
“Why?”
“Because if the king wants you integrated into society, it’ll be hard to do that with a collar on.”
“No, I get that. I meant, why do I have to wear it when I’m with you?”
“Because—” He closes the space between us, stopping inches from my face. Towering over me, he grips the collar and pulls me into him. Then, he growls, low and threatening, “I own you, baby girl.”
I swallow hard. His proximity is . . . overwhelming.
My wolf rolls over at his dominance, but I don’t go down as easily.
