Page 17

Who Me?

Sadie

“I’m The Potential?”

The fulfillment of a prophecy etched out in what sounded like a Ten Commandments-level tablet by the gods who left all of this super-advanced tech behind?

The one the three Irish Bear Kings want to make their queen—like the ones in all those portraits?

No, no, that couldn’t be right.

I must have heard him wrong?—

“You didn’t mishear me,” Tadhg said preemptively, as if he could sense my thoughts.

“Just like with the bear business, I’m one hundred percent serious about us wanting you. But I know…”

He gave me a sympathetic look.

“I know this is a lot to process.”

Understatement.

Huge, huge understatement.

Being a bear was one thing.

But all my adult life, I’d been trying—quietly, politely, desperately—to find someone who might be willing to mate with me.

And now here Tadhg, the Mountain King, was telling me I was this “The Potential,” meant for not just one but all three kings.

That he and the Shadow King had arranged and funded all of the Wolfennite brides being kidnapped just so they could get to me.

Me . Sadie “Nobody Wants the Bear Who Thinks She’s a She-Wolf” Ellis.

“No...” My voice nearly gave out.

I shook my head, feeling dazed—worse than I sometimes did when I woke up from a too-long Winter Sleep, groggy and still exhausted.

“Isn’t this what you wanted, Strawberry?” Tadhg reached out but didn’t quite touch my hand, just settled his much larger one next to it.

“Was finding a mate not why you went to Scotland?”

Yes, finding a mate willing to have me was what I wanted—why I’d defied my mother and traveled thousands of miles for the exchange.

But something wouldn’t let me answer his questions out loud.

I could only stare at him, mouth partially open to say words that never made it to my tongue.

“Is it the literal three-body problem?” Tadhg reached into the pocket of his open plaid button-down and pulled out a folded-up piece of paper.

“I know it goes against your Bible, but there are a number of strong arguments for why three mates are better than one.”

“Actually, there’s nothing in our Bible forbidding more than one spouse.” Voice still weak, I managed to choke out a correction.

“As Naomi says, that’s part of the extra stuff leaders throughout history made up to control the masses.”

“Okay, so you’re not hung up on that. Good.” He tucked the paper back into his pocket with a wry look and admitted, “I wrote a whole list of pros, starting with division of family labor after you deliver our cubs.”

Something twisted and flipped inside my stomach.

“You want children, too?”

“Of course. Future kings to carry on our lines. Though we’re not looking to turn you into an incubator, Strawberry. We can negotiate how many if you’re not comfortable with one son for each kingdom.”

My chest rocked with the sensation of my heart wanting but failing to explode with happiness.

Yes, this was everything I’d ever wanted—more than everything.

I could never in my wildest imagination have come up with this—even during the worst of the Spring Fire months when I had to take two showers a day to secretly satisfy the forbidden hunger.

But then Tadhg continued on with, “Though, there is something you should know when it comes to children and a royal marriage. The High King has original claim of you.”

“Original claim?”

Tadhg laid his hand back down next to mine on the table.

“Alright, sadly, I was so concerned about you not going for the three kings bit, I didn’t come up with a list of pros for this next part. But, Sadie, our kingdom is incredibly old. So old, I couldn’t give you a start year because we date back to a time before record-keeping. And as with any society that has lasted this long, we have ways and rituals. Rules.”

He averted his eyes so he was looking at the tree line leading out to the lake when he told me, “When it comes to taking a queen, the High King has your first claim—the right of first penetration. Neither I nor the Shadow King can penetrate you in a baby-making manner until he has you first and you’re pregnant with his cub.”

“The High King has the right of first penetration?” I went completely still, everything inside of me screeching to a halt.

And Tadhg grimaced. “You do understand what penetration is—how babies are made, at least among us mammals?”

I did understand.

But that wasn’t the reason for my reaction.

It suddenly occurred to me why I was having so much trouble just saying, “Yes, yes, sign me up.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“Where is this High King? If he has this all-important first claim, as you mentioned, why isn’t he here requesting a three-spouse marriage, too? Or taking the lead? You’d think it would matter most to him, considering this is his first child we’re talking about.”

Tadhg hesitated.

And my heart sank.

That pause told me exactly what my gut had been trying to all along.

“He’s not on board,” I realized out loud.

“It’s a three-king plan, but only two of you are behind this. He doesn’t want me.”

“He doesn’t not want you,” Tadhg said carefully.

“He didn’t exactly say yes after you were delivered, but he also didn’t say no. He only walked away.”

“Walked away?” I repeated.

The image of this unknown High King with the streak in his hair, taking one look at me and running, churned in my stomach.

“Walking away from something—from someone—is the exact definition of saying no to it.”

“No, no, not here, Strawberry.” Tadhg leaned in, his eyes taking on a fierce glitter.

“It may not look like it, given the way I’m dressed, but our world is quite formal. And that includes yeas and nays. Only a formal no means no. And only a formal yes means yes.”

This time, Tadhg did cover my hand.

With both of his. I wasn’t sure if he was comforting me or making sure I didn’t leap up from the table.

Either way, I had no choice but to sit there as he tried to reassure me.

“It’s complicated. We sprung this on him, the same as we sprung it on you. And unfortunately, our mateship isn’t a go until the High King says it is. But Declan… he’s still processing all that’s happened, is all.”

Right.

Processing.

I suddenly understood why they called this position The Potential.

As Naomi was sometimes prone to say, “This is giving me bad vibes.” In this case, bad job candidate vibes.

“And how long will he be processing this?” For the second time that day, I felt compelled to tug my hands back from his grip.

But just like I suspected, Tadhg easily kept me there as he admitted, “By tradition, if a Mountain or Shadow King nominates a Potential, then the High King has three moons to decide—so that would be just after the New Year.”

And by just after the New Year, he meant…

“February,” I clarified.

“The High King has until February to decide whether he wants to reject me or not? Which, judging by his absence, he probably will. I mean, he’s not even here...”

“Actually, he is?” Tadhg winced.

“With the Scottish Wolves on our trail, arranging this meeting has cost us the ability to walk about in The Above. So, here in the Secret Kingdom is the only place he technically can be without jeopardizing our position.”

“He’s here ?” I jutted my chin.

I think Tadhg actually thought knowing the High King was on the premises would bring me some comfort.

“He’s here, and he can’t be bothered to come find me?” I half asked, half pointed out.

“He doesn’t even want to talk to me?”

Tadhg raised one beefy hand to rub the back of his thick neck.

“I’ll admit, we’re off to a bad start.”

“It’s more than a bad start.” Taking advantage of his lightened hold, I pulled away and jumped to my feet, spreading my arms to the side.

“I mean, how would this even work for the next three months? I just sit around twiddling my thumbs while I wait for him to formally reject me?”

“Again, that’s not a foregone conclusion.” Tadhg also stood up.

It was like having a mountain rise in front of you.

He blocked out my view of the lake and tree line behind him.

And though he wasn’t quite as tall as the Shadow King, I still had to tip my head back to look him in the eye.

Yet his face reddened, and he averted his eyes, as if I were the intimidating one.

“There’s, ah… a ritual that governs how the time is spent prior to the High King making his decision. But I was saving that discussion for another time. Perhaps we could talk about it over dinner. Or at tomorrow’s brunch.”

Naomi was definitely right.

All my life, I’d been way too compliant.

I knew this for truth in that moment because I could pinpoint to the minute exactly when that nonsense stopped.

It was now. Right now.

When I refused to continue playing by the Mountain King’s schedule.

“No, Tadhg. No more secrets. No more pushing things off to the next meal. Tell me everything. Tell me everything right now.”

“Everything’s a lot,” he hedged.

I just stared back at him, unblinking this time.

Waiting for my answers.

All my answers.

“Alright.” His eyes bounced everywhere but down at me.

“By tradition, the other king—or kings, in this case—are meant to train you so you’re ready for the wedding night and, ah… know what to do and expect. It’s meant to be a kindness for The Potential. If the High King says yes at your Presentation Ceremony, then you’ll have the knowledge you’ll need to please him and achieve your own pleasure on your first wedding night.”

Tadhg stopped there.

At least he tried to.

No-longer-compliant me jumped on his pause with a, “And if the High King says no?”

Tadhg’s embarrassed look turned wary.

I could tell he didn’t want to answer, but to his credit, he didn’t drag it out this time.

“Then The Potential is sent home happy. Her pleasure will have been attended to while she waited, but if the High King says no, she is not allowed to stay with the other king or kings. And, ah, vice versa.”

“Sent home?” I echoed.

Tadhg raised his hands to hover beside my shoulders.

Like he wanted to clasp them.

But he didn’t. “A few hundred years ago, we learned the hard way that making the High King's decision a final split was the best way to handle a nay.”

He lowered his arms, hands twitching by his sides. “I could tell you all about it, but that would be another history lesson.”

I didn’t want another history lesson. Just like I didn’t want my only true offer of mateship ever to come with a huge High King-shaped condition.

“This is the most messed-up bride selection process I’ve ever heard of.” I flared my eyes. Then demanded, “How would that even work? When you’re not even allowed to touch me?”

“We’re not allowed to penetrate you, Strawberry. We can touch you as much as we want.” Tadhg’s gaze heated, boring into me in a way that made my belly flutter. “And believe me, there’s a lot to be done outside of a baby claim.”

He stepped closer, erasing the slice of space between us. “We call it tradition, but in actuality, it’s more like an excuse.”

Something rose and lodged in my throat, forcing me to swallow. “An excuse?”

The hungry look was back in his eyes, even though we’d just eaten. “Yes, an excuse. By tradition, the king who knows what he wants—who he wants—spends his decision time doing everything he can to send The Potential into estrus.”

Estrus. I had just enough animal husbandry knowledge to know that was another word for heat. Felines, rabbits, and she-wolves went into heat—though the latter much more spontaneously than the first two.

Horses, sows, and apparently female bears went into estrus.

“Wha…?” Now my face heated, though, thank goodness, it didn’t show under my deeply melanated skin the way it had on Tadhg’s. “Wha-what happens if you—if training sends me into estrus?”

Another hot look. “If that happens, the High King will come to you, and all debate about whether he’ll have you or not will come to an end.”

That sounded terrible. And strangely arousing. But mostly terrible.

“I don’t want to trick anyone into having me.” I clasped a hand around one arm and turned my gaze to my half-eaten second serving of food.

“And I don’t know if I can agree to this, especially having never met this bear that may or may not reject me.”

I’d been rejected—like, a lot. But this was different, somehow.

If the High King says no, The Potential is sent home happy.

That was what Tadhg had claimed.

But the thing was, I didn’t think that would be the case. I’d been disappointed and upset by the wolves who’d rejected me.

But I had a bad feeling about this. If the High King said no to my becoming their queen, I’d be beyond upset. More like completely and utterly crushed.

Maybe Tadhg read that fear on my face.

“Look, I’ll go into the palace and have a discussion with him. See where his head’s at. He’s not exactly talking to me right now. He can be stubborn—I mean, he’d make a mule look like the most reasonable of animals.”

Tadhg took a step back and went around me toward the palace door I came out of. “But I’ll have a go at breaking through to him on at least meeting with you.”

So, he’d have to beg the High King just to talk to me? My chest was already cracking, and I hadn’t even met this guy yet.

Tadhg made me feel so wanted. And the anonymous High King made me feel just the opposite.

“Tadhg…” I began to say.

“Just hold on, Strawberry.” Tadhg turned around to face me but kept backing away toward the arched black door. “Let me try to arrange a meeting. Stay right here, and don’t go anywhere until I come back.”

He made his exit before I could argue with him. For a giant, he moved awfully fast when it came to avoiding conflict.

The door whispered closed behind him, and I was left standing there, alone with my thoughts. Trying to hold all the pieces in my head without breaking them.

Bear. Mates. Potential. Training. Kings.Queen. Judgment.

It was too much. The familiar urge to whittle while I fretted came over me. And even though my knife had fallen—or been removed from my pocket somewhere between here and Scotland, my eyes drifted to a nearby tree line.

A few moments later, I found myself foraging for the right stick through what felt more like a small woods when you were inside it. This secret kingdom place was some kind of intense overlay, but the trees operated like the real deal, with sticks and branches that fell to its floor, just like back in Ontario.

With racked focus, I scoured the wood’s dirt- and leaf-covered floor until I came upon a large hunk of a stick lying just a meter or two away from where the tree hedge stopped near the carved stone steps that led up to the Mountain King’s fortress.

“Yes!” I plucked the prize piece of wood from the ground and held it up like a winning trophy, right before the wind shifted.

My nose filled with a new smell. A delicious mix of sweet and a complementary sour. What was that?

I turned around, nose first, following the waft of smell to…

I froze. A bear. A huge, scary brown bear stood directly behind me.