And I found myself rubbing a thumb over the thick branch sticking out of my right dress pocket.
“But I probably should go back to Canada. Get answers. Maybe find other bears. Or just one—one bear who’d actually want me without any caveats. You know, for once in my life, have some pride instead of settling for somebody’s table scraps. Want another muffin?”
The bear hesitated.
“Don’t worry, there’s a lot more for me back at the house.”
A warm feeling filled my chest as I told Brigid’s husband, “Tadhg had a ton of food put out for me. It was nice. So nice.”
In a way that made the question of whether I’d take him up on his conditional offer not as clear-cut as I’d like it to be.
The bear wasn’t nearly as conflicted aboutmyoffer, though. He plucked the second muffin out of my palm and tipped his headback to toss it into his razor-sharp maw with a great CLWOMP! of his jaw.
How fascinating.
It made me wonder what else there was to find in this Secret Kingdom, who else there was to meet.
But…
“I should go back to Canada,” I told the bear. “Tadhg’s reasonable. He’d understand why I’d need to get some answers and why I’d rather try my luck there without risking getting my ego re-broken. But what if my mother joined a wolf community for a reason? Maybe there aren’t really any bears in Canada. Maybe that’s why she was all alone?”
My eyes fell on the stone steps leading up to the Mountain Fortress.
“What if Tadhg and the Shadow King are my best chance—my only chance—of making my dreams come true? I mean, I don’t hate them. In fact, if not for this High King snag, I’d be pinching myself. And this training stuff…”
My cheeks heated, but I had to admit, “It doesn’t sound terrible. Sometimes—usually during the spring—I can’t help touching myself in ways forbidden by our Ordnung. That’s the set of rules that govern the Wölfennite community I’m from. But I’m not a wolf, I’m a bear, and Tadhg made me wonder what it’d be like to have someone else touch me.”
I searched the ground and found a few other candidates for whittling sticks.
“Maybe it would be nice with them,” I told Brigid’s husband as I continued to forage. “Not like the bad sex I had with Reuben.He’s the guy back in St. Ailbe I used to bake for, but it turned out he was just using me.”
I sighed. Strange how that felt like such a distant memory already, even though it only happened a few months ago. “At least Tadhg has pure intentions. Even if they’re governed by your brother, the High King, who may never come around.”
The bear didn’t respond to my dig about his brother. Just continued to regard me with a neutral expression. And a few muffin crumbs stuck in the fur around his mouth.
Honestly, the crumbs and non-judgment in his gray eyes made him easier to talk to.
I folded my arms over my chest, hugging myself as I parsed my dilemma out loud.
“It’s such a long shot, but so was coming to Scotland.Anywhere but here—that’s what I kept telling myself when I left St. Ailbe. And technically, this secret kingdom is anywhere but here, even if it wasn’t my intended anywhere but here.”
I threw the bear a rueful smile over my shoulder as I bent down to pick up another stick. “I wonder if you felt like this when you defied your brother in order to marry Brigid. It was a risk, but it all worked out. She’s so happy. I can’t even imagine being that happy.”
I began sorting through all the sticks I’d picked up while rambling on, tossing away the ones that were thinner than I wanted or spongy from rot.
“But what if I could? What if I let Tadhg and Cian train me, and the High King actually ended up saying yes to accepting me as their wife? After everything I’ve been through, don’t I owe it tomyself to at least try before I’m handed over to this mysterious High King for judgment?”
I waited for a response. But, of course, it never came.
Who knew if the bear even understood me while shifted? I mean, I’d never remembered anything from any of my full-moon nights—not even my true form.
I thought of Naomi’s weirdly cynical and almost scientific view of the world. Maybe I was giving this bear more humanity credit than it was due. Like when I kicked the fox out of the hen house with a stern warning, instead of snapping its neck like any other Wölfennite would have done.
But I wasn’t a wolf. I no longer had to play by St. Ailbe’s rules.
“Oh, my heavens,” I said to the bear who may or may not have understood a word I said. “I think I know what I have to do.”
The bear tilted his head in a way that could have been interpreted as curiosity.
