Something rose and lodged in my throat, forcing me to swallow. “An excuse?”
The hungry look was back in his eyes, even though we’d just eaten. “Yes, an excuse. By tradition, the king who knows what he wants—who he wants—spends his decision time doing everything he can to send The Potential into estrus.”
Estrus. I had just enough animal husbandry knowledge to know that was another word for heat. Felines, rabbits, and she-wolves went into heat—though the latter much more spontaneously than the first two.
Horses, sows, and apparently female bears went into estrus.
“Wha…?” Now my face heated, though, thank goodness, it didn’t show under my deeply melanated skin the way it had on Tadhg’s. “Wha-what happens if you—if training sends me into estrus?”
Another hot look. “If that happens, the High King will come to you, and all debate about whether he’ll have you or not will come to an end.”
That sounded terrible. And strangely arousing. But mostly terrible.
“I don’t want to trick anyone into having me.” I clasped a hand around one arm and turned my gaze to my half-eaten second serving of food.
“And I don’t know if I can agree to this, especially having never met this bear that may or may not reject me.”
I’d been rejected—like, a lot. But this was different, somehow.
If the High King says no, The Potential is sent home happy.
That was what Tadhg had claimed.
But the thing was, I didn’t think that would be the case. I’d been disappointed and upset by the wolves who’d rejected me.
But I had a bad feeling about this. If the High King said no to my becoming their queen, I’d be beyond upset. More like completely and utterly crushed.
Maybe Tadhg read that fear on my face.
“Look, I’ll go into the palace and have a discussion with him. See where his head’s at. He’s not exactly talking to me right now. He can be stubborn—I mean, he’d make a mule look like the most reasonable of animals.”
Tadhg took a step back and went around me toward the palace door I came out of. “But I’ll have a go at breaking through to him on at least meeting with you.”
So, he’d have to beg the High King just to talk to me? My chest was already cracking, and I hadn’t even met this guy yet.
Tadhg made me feel so wanted. And the anonymous High King made me feel just the opposite.
“Tadhg…” I began to say.
“Just hold on, Strawberry.” Tadhg turned around to face me but kept backing away toward the arched black door. “Let me try to arrange a meeting. Stay right here, and don’t go anywhere until I come back.”
He made his exit before I could argue with him. For a giant, he moved awfully fast when it came to avoiding conflict.
The door whispered closed behind him, and I was left standing there, alone with my thoughts. Trying to hold all the pieces in my head without breaking them.
Bear. Mates. Potential. Training. Kings.Queen. Judgment.
It was too much. The familiar urge to whittle while I fretted came over me. And even though my knife had fallen—or been removed from my pocket somewhere between here and Scotland, my eyes drifted to a nearby tree line.
A few moments later, I found myself foraging for the right stick through what felt more like a small woods when you were inside it. This secret kingdom place was some kind of intense overlay, but the trees operated like the real deal, with sticks and branches that fell to its floor, just like back in Ontario.
With racked focus, I scoured the wood’s dirt- and leaf-covered floor until I came upon a large hunk of a stick lying just a meter or two away from where the tree hedge stopped near the carved stone steps that led up to the Mountain King’s fortress.
“Yes!” I plucked the prize piece of wood from the ground and held it up like a winning trophy, right before the wind shifted.
My nose filled with a new smell. A delicious mix of sweet and a complementary sour. What was that?
I turned around, nose first, following the waft of smell to…
