“May I take your hand to greet you, or does it belong to the Shadow King now?”
I didn’t realize Cian—the Shadow King—still had my hand gripped tight between us until he said that.
And before I could withdraw, the Shadow King transferred his long, pale, symbol-covered hand to my wrist and offered my hand to Tadhg.
As if he were giving the other male a present.
A present Tadhg affably accepted with both of his hands.
“Hello, Sadie. I know, under the circumstances, it’s likely hard for you to believe. But we really do want to try to get your consent for everything,” he told me. “So, is it alright with you if your Mountain King lays a kiss upon your hand?”
I’d actually seen this custom of kissing a hand in greeting carried out a few times at Tara’s wedding reception. It was no big deal, I knew. More a way of showing respect than anything else.
But him asking the question while looking me directly in the eye made it feel like a big deal.
Made me stutter, “Y-yes. Um, okay.”
He pressed his lips to the top of my hand...
Oh my goodness, oh my goodness, oh my goodness.
Outside, I managed to appear calm, but everything inside of me was screaming and scrambling again inside that frying pan with a high flame underneath.
“I imagine you have a lot of questions.” Tadhg’s voice cut through all my internal noise like a calm, warm boom. “And I’m here to answer all of them.”
Did I have questions? The frying pan sizzled and popped as I tried to get a hold of my right mind.
“Why did you kidnap me? And where are all the other Wölfennites? Especially Naomi!” I blurted out, finally resetting to my awkward default.
“Good question,” Tadhg let out a low chuckle as he lowered but didn’t, I noticed, fully let go of my hand.
Was that a thing? A custom in… wherever this was? Did people not let go of hands after a greeting, just held on until who knew when?
Tadhg went on. “Well now, the Irish Wolves carried on to their own kingdom with your friend and the other she-wolves after dropping you off with us. It’s admirable that your community’sso inclusive in Canada, but I’m afraid us Irish shifters haven’t quite caught up yet. We still keep to our own, with them on the east coast and us on the west.”
“What, it’s just me here with you two?” I shook my head. “I don’t understand. Why did the Irish Wolves leave just me behind?”
“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Tadhg said, his amused gaze softening into something more sympathetic. “But we don’t want you confused about any of this—or about the choices you’ll be asked to make. So I’m happy to explain everything. Including our reasons for… arranging this meeting.”
I tilted my head at his swapping inarrangingforkidnapping.
Meanwhile, Tadhg explained. “It all started when we found out that the Canadian she-wolves who came to the Bridal Exchange brought someone like us with them.”
“Someone likeus?” I repeated, still very confused, despite his patient and warm tone. “What do you mean?”
Tadhg’s brow knitted, and for the first time since walking in, he looked as confused as I felt. “What doyoumean by what do I mean by someone like us?”
I shook my head, not understanding his confusion over my puzzlement. Then it occurred to me there was one other question I maybe should have asked before all the others. “What exactly are you two?”
Wicklow and Other Mysteries
Alban
“Any news?”Magnus asked as soon as he answered Alban’s first call on the satellite phone.
Alban had been issued the sat device years ago but had only recently learned to use it on the boat ride across the Irish Sea to the east coast of what humans now called Ireland. The wolves, however, had their own name for this country: Tìrarnàimhdean, Scottish Gaelic for “Our Enemy’s Land.”
Alban had spent the past thirty-six hours berating himself for having forgotten, even for a moment, that the wolves of this land had been their archnemeses for longer than Ireland had been nicknamed the Emerald Isle.
