My duties as queen of all three kingdoms of the Irish Wolves? We’d go over that after the heat moon.
“I’ve plenty of resources to fund your physics degree,” Aidan assured me on Day 7.
It was just after dinner, and Sea was washing the dishes while Wild took his nightly long run around the lake.
The Nature King was one of Wild’s many alternate titles for a reason. He was used to spending most of his time outside — often in wolf form.
But wolf biology was set up so that neither she-wolves nor their mates could shift until she gave birth — the fact that he couldn’t was yet another sign that we probably had triplets on the way.
Wild never once complained about this to me. But according to Sea, a three-hour naked run around the entire lake was the Nature King’s only way to deal with the frustration of not being able to access his wolf until I gave birth.
And Sea often used the break to catch up with his uncle in the secret kingdom and deal with any issues there.
This left ample time for Aidan and me to get to know each other. By Day 7, we’d fallen into the habit of cuddling on the couch, either talking about city life in Dublin or watching random shows on a large, bulbous standing television that Aidan assured me “had to be made before either of us were born.”
That night, the subject of my physics degree came up while we were cozily settled on the couch, with me reclining against his chest, resting comfortably between his legs.
With three babies on the way, I figured that dream was dead. Strangely, I wasn’t as upset as I thought I’d be about it. How was I already so ready to leave that part of my life behind? I fretted my lip. Was this just the heat moon fogging up my sense of reality?
“We can absolutely make your dream of further education work,” Aidan insisted, mistaking the reason for my sudden spike of worry over the mate bond.
Could I really juggle being a queen, raising triplets, and going back to school? It sounded impossible. But with Aidan’s confidence — and the promise of help — I asked, “Do you seriously think a degree is still within my reach?”
“I promise you, it is,” he answered, turning me over in his arms to face him. “It would just be different from what you had planned. And in Ireland. With loads of hired help. But we’ll get into that…”
“After the heat moon,” I finished for him with a laughing roll of my eyes.
That soon turned into kissing of a nature that brought Sea into the room.
“A bit early,” he noted, even as he gamely pulled off his borrowed t-shirt with one hand.
Then, lo and behold, Wild returned early from his run because “I could feel what ye three were getting up to even from kilometers away.”
But instead of removing his clothes, he just leaned back against the fireplace and observed the three of us making out with hooded eyes, "Feels like just as grand an eve as any for a long overdue spitroast lesson. Might as well get started on Sea, beauty — eat the frog and all that.”
My years of having not a clue what spit roast meant outside of the actual cooking of animals ended that evening.
Wild’s version of a “grand” spit roast involved including actually spitting and lots of licking, along with darkly patient lessons about how to control my gag reflex as Aidan moved into me from behind while I ran both hands up and down Sea’s length and stretched my lips over his giant length while sucking him into my throat as far as he could go.
“Good, good,” Wild said when my eyes watered. “As pretty as this look is on her, release yer load so that ye can teach her how to swallow.”
The first lesson was hard — all puns intended — and a bit of a choking hazard.
“I do believe she’ll need more practice to take on all three of us and make my vision come true,” Sea said after the three of us had collapsed on the couch. “Shall we extend the heat moon another week to the full moon?”
The vote was unanimous.
And the three kings made sure I got plenty of practice as another week passed in a blissful thrall of sex, food, two extra naps a day for me, funny, intimate conversations that made me forget that I hadn’t known these three males all my life, and most importantly for my poor, overworked body, long soaks in the bath.
I’d even gotten used to the 24/7 nudity — at least on my part. None of what we were doing would be sanctioned by the Wölfennite version of the Big Book, but I couldn’t help but feel that I had somehow stumbled into the Garden of Eden.
I was shocked, coming down to dinner on Day 13, to find all three males waiting for me fully dressed at the bottom of the stairs. They wore long robes adorned with strange symbols and belted at the waist with golden braids. Each robe was a different color: Wild’s was green, Aidan's was gold, and Sea’s was the same off-white as the shorter tunics they’d worn at Amanda’s wedding. In their hands, they held lit candles.
“What’s going on?” I asked, slowing on the steps.
“We’ve an outfit for you, too,” Sea answered, falling into his usual role of speaking for all three kings.
He handed his candle to Aidan and held up a long tunic that I hadn’t noticed slung over his arm. Unlike theirs, though, it was plain and the same kind of natural blue that we used to make the fabric for our Wölfennite dresses.
