I gave explaining my logic another go. “She’s banned us from the habitat, Wild —”
“Which she’s not bloody allowed to do!” Wild snarled. "We areher kings! The ones prophesied to claim her."
My wolf thrashed inside of me in full agreement.
“You're right. She’s not technically allowed to defy us,” I conceded to both Wild and my inner beast, tilting my head to the side. “But she threw herself over that Amanda she-wolf like some science fiction force field. I suspect she knew she'd be protected. And she was right. Then she threatened to convince all of the Brides to wolf-out if we didn’t leave. If that was the plan she came up with in only a few minutes, how do you think a clever mastermind like her will respond if we barge in there against her wishes because we’re ‘her kings’?”
I air-quoted our possessive titles as the memories of her defiant words crashed through my mind, like waves that capsize boats.
"I don't know what kind of plan you had for me with wolf mating off the table, but I will never call you my kings. And I will never, ever forgive you for this!"
“Prison invasions aren’t exactly conducive to wooing, are they?” I pointed out to Wild. “And we're already in the toilet as far as her opinion of us goes.”
Wild stopped pacing to declare, "We shouldn’t let her use our claim rules against us. Makes us look like bloody fools."
It amused me that he kept using words like "let" and "allow," as if he couldn't clearly see the power she already wielded over us.
“I could lift the ban on unmated male wolves touching or talking to her," I suggested, ignoring the snapping protest of my own wolf to make my point. "Is that what you want?”
“No!” Wild rolled the word with a deep growl, balling his hands into fists. But then, he released them, and his shoulders sank. “Lorcan and Ronan — you should see the state of them.”
Wild ran a hand over his weary face. “They can’t eat. Can’t sleep. Forget dark circles. They’ve got caves under their eyes.”
I laid a hand on his shoulder to address him king-to-king. “I understand it cannot be easy to watch one of your males suffer like this. Much less two.”
“Good, you understand.” Wild knocked my hand off his shoulder and wiped the vulnerable expression from his face with a snarl. “Then let’s stop mickeying around out here and go in there like Irish fucking wolves. We’ll hold our Flower back while Lorcan and Ronan fish their mate out of there and take her to the Wild camp for their rightful claim.”
“Then what?” I raised my eyebrow. “Do we tie her up to tell her our plan to let our males come to the habitat to court the Reaped she-wolves over suppers? Then, when she says no to that because she’s truly come to hate our guts, will we send our males in anyway? Take turns sitting on top of her every time she tries to stop one of them from being claimed?”
Wild scoffed. “You sound like Dublin.”
Dublin who’d been right about a Reaping not being so easy in these modern times.
And what if Wild was right about nothing working with her but a full invasion of forced proximity, so that their wolves would send them into heat, even if their humans despised us?
Doubt about both my Plan A and Plan B began to creep in. What if everything I did only made her hate me more? Shy schoolboy phases were just that — a phase. How long would the beast stay down if she kept rejecting us?
My wolf thrashed around inside me as if to answer:Not long.
Outwardly, though, I held my ground with Wild. “I might sound like Dublin, but you sound like anamadánwho can’t think long-term.”
“Long term? Who's theamadánnow?” He shook his head at me. “What the fuck does long-term matter to the Cursed King?”
I winced. Alright, poor choice of words. Still, I had to press my point. "Surely, you can see why we’ve no choice but to let her learn for herself what a true heat looks like. It’s the only way to secure her cooperation. Then we can talk about returning to the original plan of giving the Wölfennites a proper wooing."
Wild didn't argue. But he cut his barely glowing gaze toward the Eastern Hills, behind which the unmated Wild Wolves had set up their camp. He was still fretting over Lorcan's and Ronan's demise. I wouldn't ask, but I could imagine what he'd had to do to keep them away.
"Understand, Amanda’s the one in heat," I told him. "Which means her suffering is ten times more wretchedthan anything Lorcan and Ronan are going through now. Trust me when I tell you this plan will work, and their ordeal will end soon.”
“And what if it doesn’t?” Wild’s glowing eyes dimmed, his wolf receding a bit. “What if she hates us forever? Like she vowed?”
His questions sank into my chest like a dagger from the baldric I’d stored away, so as to seem less kidnappy and violent.
So those words were still echoing through Wild’s mind, too.
I opened my mouth to offer him reassurance I didn’t necessarily feel myself, but the whisper of the glass habitat door sliding open lifted both our heads.
“Neither of you melters thought to tell our newbanríonabout your favorite sibling?” Astrid demanded.
