There’s a beat of silence, then all the men behind the table roar with laughter. All except the male with the apple who sits at the end.
“He’s not the king,” says Callum darkly. “Where’s James?”
“He had business to attend to,” says the male I mistook for the Wolf King. “Did he not tell you? He left me in charge in his stead.”
Callum’s eyes narrow. “Aye. Course he did.”
“You’re welcome to challenge me for the title, if you wish.” The big man leans forward, resting his sizeable arms upon the table. “As it’s my castle you’re in, I don’t imagine it’ll go well for you. Nor do I imagine James will be happy if I throw the whole lot of you out.”
A muscle twitches in Callum’s jaw. “When will James be back?”
The man shrugs. “How should I know? A couple of weeks, maybe.” His attention moves bac
