I glance over at the huge man who’s sitting beside me. His shoulders are hunched, his face impassive. I can feel his unease. He was an orphan, right? Sian said he grew up in the forest. He probably didn’t learn to talk until he was older, and even now it seems to be hard for him.
He can talk,Sian said.He will if it's important to him.
A flash of longing for the forest, the cave, the wide open and wild spaces, shoots through me. I don’t know if it’s from Hunter or myself.
I wriggle on the throne, trying to get comfortable. But everyone is staring at me. I grip Hunter's hand, hard.
Once the room is crammed with people, a hush descends, and another giant man gets up onto the dais to speak. He has a braided turquoise beard, and an authoritative manner.
“The king has returned,” he proclaims, “and he has brought with him our new queen: an Omega.”
Countless pairs of eyes swivel to scrutinize me, and I drop my gaze as if I’m super interested in the ground right in front of my feet. My face is getting hotter by the second. I’m so glad I was given this long gown to wear. I just wish it came with a mask, and a hood as well.
“All hail the Hunter King and his new queen!” Braided-beard shouts, and everyone repeats what he just said, in unison.
My ears are ringing.
Queen? Is it that easy? Just proclaim someone a queen, and they are? No marriage ceremony, no coronation…
… no fuckingconsent?
“I don’t want to be a queen,” I mutter, but my whisper is drowned out by the chorus of excited voices.
Braided-beard then turns to me. “You are most welcome here in Arboron,majesta,” he says. “I am Brokk, second-in-command to your mate…”
My mate.Mate. I repeat the word in my mind, trying it on for size. Right now, I’m too overwhelmed to decide how I feel about the thought of having amatewhose name I don’t even know. Who seems to only be interested in me for one thing—as amazing as that thing might be.
“We have called this audience so some of the people can air their grievances, and ask the king for advice,” Brokk continues.
I slant another glance at the handsome but surly man beside me. Advice? From him? They’d have more chance getting golden eggs out of a goose.
“Would the first petitioner please step forward?” Brokk then steps off the dais, leaving us to it.
The Ulfarri are all exceptionally tall, way taller than humans. They also all seem to have brightly colored skin and strange, tribal, tattoo-like markings in different, contrasting shades. Having seen Sian and then the hunter, I had assumed they would all be green, but far from it. Although many of them are wearing hooded cloaks over their clothing, I spot a range of gorgeous colors—from pink to orange, blue to lilac, and everything in between.
“There have been more sightings of the Slythin,” a woman begins, stepping up to the foot of the platform and removing her hood to reveal kingfisher blue hair and turquoise skin. “I’m afraid to let my children go out to play. What is being done about it?”
Everyone looks expectantly at Hunter, sitting beside me. So do I.
He looks like he would rather be anywhere else in the world.Why be king if you hate it so much?
I look over to Brokk for help, and he mercifully catches my eye, and comes to the rescue. “We are fairly certain it is not an attack,” he says loudly. “We are looking into it, and will resolve the issue shortly.”
What a vague, faintly reassuring response. He could be a politician back on Earth.
Still, what he said seems to be enough for the woman, who gives a little nod and takes a step back.
Another petitioner speaks up. “Where did the Omega come from? There has not been an Omega queen in Arboron in years!”
“Aye, I thought they were extinct,” someone else calls out, and a chorus of murmurs breaks out.
Again, I look to my so-called mate to respond, but he so obviously loathes being in the limelight like this, I feel a sudden burst of protectiveness.
“You thought so, but here I am!” I say gamely, to a smattering of laughter. “I certainly don’t feel like I’m extinct!”
Something makes me look to Brokk, and he gives me the tiniest nod of encouragement.
“The king caught me on the night of the Hunt of the Moons,” I continue. The people want more information, and Hunter sure isn’t going to give it to them. “It was an omen.” I’m repeating what Sian told me, but what else can I say when I don’t even know the answers myself?
