Part One
Sea
We came by land,sea, and car. All three Irish Kings converged from the North, South, and East for our agreed-upon meeting inside the ancient structure we calledClocha na Cinniúna— the fating stones.
But I, the Sea King, arrived first. After tying up my boat at the dock of the nearest town to this particular set of fating stones, I hiked up a bendy road in pouring rain past several signs the clueless humans had hung, inviting tourists to visit one of the structures they insisted on calling"prehistoric stone circles."
“Welcome to the Ballymactyre Stone Circle!”
An elderly and round human male wearing a flat cap underneath a bright green poncho sprang out of the entry booth before I reached the stone steps leading up to the fating gates.
“I’ll just need a payment of ten from you then.”
My wolf thrashed inside of me, demanding I let him rip out the elderly man’s throat for daring to charge any sum of money for theprivilege of visiting the stone monument the Wild King’s ancestors had built back in the Bronze Age.
But I clenched my jaw against the constant, gnawing need that my wolf pushed on me— the need to destroy and do even the most minor of enemies harm because in twenty-nine years, I had yet to claim a mate.
I did not give the audacious male ten euros. I gave him one thousand in a thick wad held together with a bit of twine. We didn’t have much use for currency in the secret kingdom. But my uncle had made sure to tuck a few wads of the stuff inside my leather belt pouch before handing it to me with an old Gaelic proverb that roughly translated to,“Money is the only oil that will light every type of lamp.”
In short, money would make it easier for me to remain the king wherever I traveled in the human world.
“Shut down the gates for a while,” I instructed the rotund human as if he were one of my subjects.“I’ve a meeting set here with two others, but if ever someone comes through with an inquiry about whether you’ve seen us— especially a Scottish someone…”
“I never did. Understood.” The delighted booth minder nabbed the wad from my hand and tucked it into a pocket beneath his poncho.“Will the three of you be wanting a tour, then?”
“No.” I shifted my gaze to the car park across the two-lane road just as a vehicle pulled in — a sleek Nakamura Velocity EV. Not so flashy that humans would take notice but posh enough to spoil its driver and signal virtuosity.
I guessed the Dublin King was behind the wheel even before he stepped out and popped an umbrella to protect his fine, tailored suit and swept back copper-colored hair from the pelting rain.
“That your mate?”
The booth minder squinted at the newcomer who'd crossed the road and was now squelching through the mud toward us in polished wingtips.
“What’s the craic here, then? Some sort ofTop Boynonsense?”
Irritation spiked within me. Now the greedy human was asking questions? I should've given him less dosh to keep others out during our meeting. The hefty sum had piqued his curiosity, and although we weren't in the drug trade like the Irish lads on that English series, I could certainly see why he might think so.
My wolf thrashed inside of me again. Begging for a kill.
The Diplomatic King was one of my many non-official titles among our kind. However, my inner beast had been bad, verging on terrible before the Tríbéirríthe's call. Now that it knew my long wait for a true mate might end, every little nuisance made it prowl on edge inside me — especially the clueless human ones.
“You’ll want to go back inside your hut and remain there until we’re done,” I told the booth minder.
The old man was nosy but not daft. He shuffled back into his little entry booth without any further questions.
“Sea,” the Dublin King greeted me with a nod.
His silver-grey gaze flicked briefly over the jeans and t-shirt I wore beneath a rain parka from some brand called Jack Murphy. This was the first time he’d ever seen me attempt to blend in with the humans. I’d even let the hair grow back over the shaved side of my head, which still bore the near-useless runic protection tattoos meant to keep my beast in check.
Not that it mattered. Protection tattoos be damned, my beast continued to hover dangerously close to my surface. And anyhow, when I stepped off the boat I’d taken from Ailte Faoilmar tokeep the Dublin King from knowing the true location of the secret kingdom, I’d pulled my hood over my long red hair.
“Dublin,” I answered with a nod of my own.
“That sorted?” The Dublin King tilted his city pompadour toward the human in the booth.
“Paid him well enough to keep his gob shut about us ever meeting here if that’s what you’re asking."Now, it was my turn to eye him up and down. "But then you decided toflahup looking like an entire episode ofDragon's Denfor what's s'posed to be a secret get-together.”
“I don’t have much time for this, do I?" Dublin lowered his brows and blew out a breath. "Had to fit you in between meetings with a few of our County Kerry distributors.”
