“Short version of the story: His mother tried to run from his father,” Declan said into the tense silence. “And she died trying. Their relationship was… fraught.”
…my parents’ marriage was a piece of shite. They couldn’t talk to each other. My mam was afraid of my da. I don’t want that for us.
The solitary few things Tadhg had ever said about his parents blew through my mind like a haunting wind.
Until he locked me in that room, I’d been dealing with a shell of the Mountain King I knew during his turn. There was no digital wall in the bedroom he gave me, but he’d appeared out of thin air every time I left the suite.
Our conversations were stiff. Empty.
I’d tried to discuss Canada with him before it was time for me to leave for the palace. “Are we going to freeze each other out all week or talk about this?”
But he’d shut me down. “I don’t plan to ever talk with you about that particular subject again, Sadie.”
Sadie—notStrawberry.
It didn’t sound sexy this time.
And the constant watching, with no attempt to speak, felt more suffocating than the digital wall ever had.
So I’d snuck out while he was supposed to be sleeping, just to get some alone time, and I happened to check out the tower.
I still didn’t understand why that one small rebellion had been enough to?—
“It wasn’t small to him,” Declan said quietly. He leaned across the tray table and took my free hand—the one not resting in the Shadow King’s lap. “And he wasn’t trying to suffocate you. I think shutting down the topic was the only thing he could think of to stop himself from exploding again.”
“But it didn’t work,” I pointed out.
“No,” Declan said with a sad, bittersweet smile. “It didn’t work. You still saw the part of him he’d been working so hard to hide.”
The High King opened his side of the bond bite—just enough for me to feel the churn of conflicting thoughts inside him. Tadhg was his best friend, but even now, Declan didn’t know whether to defend him.
“His father was rather—actually, extremely—controlling. The Mountain King’s line is descended from Vikings. Bears who fought viciously to claim and pillage. The real history of the line has been mostly lost to the annals of time, but rumor has it they stormed their way into the Secret Kingdom, and a king’s throne was offered to them in a desperate attempt to avoid war.”
Declan gave me a knowing look. “That’s why we have an armorer and a reserve army.”
I hadn’t ever stopped to wonder why such a peaceful kingdom, with seemingly few enemies, had an armorer capable of turning around a whittling knife order in under 24 hours. But I supposed that explained it.
“Yes,” Declan confirmed off my thoughts. “The Mountain King line is responsible for our peace. But understand—when something is gained by force, there’s always the fear it’ll be taken the same way. That fear… it seeps down through the generations.”
He paused, choosing his next words carefully.
“For centuries, the Mountain Kings have been known for what we file under the general umbrella of ‘madness’—but it’s more accurately a combination of extreme paranoia leading to controlling behavior.”
Declan shook his head. “Unfortunately, psychology wasn’t something our parents’ generation had any tools for.”
“None of it was known to me before I bit you,” I admitted.
“Exactly. So maybe you can see how the Mountain Kings came to believe that this jealous paranoia was just… in their blood. And how that belief might have shaped your Mountain King.”
Over the bond, Declan showed me boyhood images of Tadhg through his eyes as he continued.
“Growing up, Tadhg watched his father get worse and worse. Accusing his mother of cheating. Forbidding her from wearing dresses with even modest cleavage. Banning heels. She wasn’t allowed to leave the fortress without permission, and The Above was strictly forbidden.”
Then a clouded memory passed between us—dark and sharp-edged.
“The one time she dared to defy him,” Declan said quietly, “she took Tadhg and Brigid into town for some Christmas shopping. He came for her in public.”
That was an understatement.
