One moment, the unwanted she-wolf was there, and the next, she was… gone.
Relief hit me like a train as my face unmuzzled.Thank the threegods. I sat up on my forearms, thinking Wild must have intervened before it was too late.
It wasn't Wild who’d saved me from involuntarily slaughtering the unwanted she-wolf, though.
“Not today, Satan!” Mairinua cried.
Shock rolled back the incoming head shift, and my fangs receded as I watched our reluctant queen pull the naked she-wolf off of me — then grab her by the wrist and ankle and toss her across the encampment dirt like someone throwing a bale of hay.
Or like a she-wolf queen refusing to let another claim her Sea King.
“Argh! You said you didn’t want him!” the unwanted she-wolf shrieked from the ground. "What changed?"
I wondered the same thing.
Mairinua didn't answer the indignant she-wolf she'd thrown. But as my uncle often said when trying to teach me during my formative years that my actions would always speak louder than whatever words I spoke,"Is fearr tobar ná mar a deirtear."Loosely translated:a well done is better than a well said.
My heart raced with the realization that despite Mairinua's initial vow to hate me forever, she was defending me from being taken by another she-wolf — a she-wolf who immediately scrambled to her feet and tried to come at me again.
But she only managed a couple of steps before our queen stepped in front of her, blocking her path to me with a growl. “Don’t even try it, bitch.”
Granted, I hadn't bothered to read this Ordnung the Wölfennites kept going on and on about, but I was fairly sure that particular word was probably forbidden.
Suddenly, instead of battling my wolf, I was fighting to keep a smug grin off my face as I climbed to my feet with zero effort required to stay in my human form.
The red-haired Wölfennite backed down with another frustrated shriek. But then she looked around desperately. And set her sights on Wild.
It seemed the heated she-wolf had just enough reasoning left to realize that if she couldn’t have me, there was another Irish King at her avail. The she-wolf veered toward where Wild stood — like a fox who’d just found another chicken to eat.
My heart dropped into my stomach.
Obviously, our Mairinua had gone back on her vow to despise me forever. But I remembered the scathing tone she'd used to tell Wild that she'd returned to hating him. Just a few minutes ago.
I tensed, expecting to have to intervene, even if it meant risking my wolf coming out again.
But before the covetous female could even make it a few steps, Mairinua planted her boot on the she-wolf’s chest and kicked her back, like something straight out of a martial arts movie.
My heart once again rushed with delight while Wild cackled and cheered like someone whose team had just scored. “That’s right, Flower! Show her who yer kings belong to!”
This time, the fox didn’t scramble back to her feet. She coughed several times before making a weak, shaky climb into a standing position. Getting the wind knocked out of her must have been enough to convince her not to try again.
Instead, she looked around and shuffled toward my cousin, clutchingher chest.
Which I'll admit left me feeling triumphant for more reasons than one.
But, alas, there was no time to gloat.
For the most part, Wild's scheme had worked. The heat scent, multiplied several times over, had risen like a cloud above the gathering. And, as we'd discussed before the wedding festivities, the Sea elders had mobilized to ensure that the matings proceeded fairly, with the she-wolves' choices being respected — whether they opted for one mate or two.
However, even with a mostly two-to-one ratio, the numbers of she-wolves to eligible wolves still didn’t add up.
Our queen had fought for us, but she still hadn’t gone into heat like the rest of the captives, and I didn’t want her here when the rest of the unmated males realized they wouldn’t be gaining a bride like many of their compatriots this eve.
"We've got to get her back to the habitat," I said to Wild, bending down to pick up the cloak that had come unfastened when Miriam tore my tunic down the front.
No surprise there — the fastening chain was ancient. The story was that it was made for the first True King shortly after the original Cursed King ceded the secret kingdom to the Sea Wolves. But where had my wolf knots gone? I searched the ground underneath the cloak I'd picked up but failed to find either of the brooches that would "door" the habitat's glass.
"Here, take mine." Wild yanked off the chain, fastening his fur stole, and handed it to me. “We can look for your openers later. Get her back to the habitat before the unmated lads have too much heat in their noses to obey orders.”
