“No, actually.” A now-familiar male voice answered my question about the bears going all out for diplomats, instead of the Mountain Princess.
Her older brother, the Mountain Prince, a handsome redhead who Senair Hamish would’ve called “cheeky from birth,” dropped into the seat on the other side of his little sister and palmed five of her meatballs.
“Hey! Get your own!” the Mountain Princess shrieked in the pitch only outraged sisters could achieve.
I knew it well and wasn’t surprised when her brother stuffed all five meatballs into his mouth and asked, “Want them back?”
The Mountain Princess made a strangled sound and stomped away to get some more. With her plate in hand.
“Good, she’s gone.” The Mountain Prince, who’d been shamelessly flirting with me the entirety of my visit, even though he was twelve years younger than me, slipped into the seat his sister had abandoned and leaned in. “Want to ditch this party and dance in my room?”
I shifted uncomfortably. Apparently, the Mountain Prince didn’t know much about she-wolves. Unlike female bears, wedidn’t experience sexual desire before our heats, which I hadn’t undergone, thanks to being on heat control since college. So even though I was thirty-two, I was still a virgin—more by biology than choice.
There was some interesting research around she-wolves being able to achieve arousal with a motivated bed partner. But on a biological level, I had no desire (pun intended) to run that experiment with a bear.
I ignored his question. “So you were saying you all don’t usually welcome outsiders from other kingdoms like this?”
“Are you kidding?” The Mountain Prince took the fork I hadn’t picked up yet and used it to spear one of the meatballs on my plate. “We’re usually boring as grass growing around here, and we never let outsiders into the secret kingdom. Not even the wolves from the other secret kingdom.”
I scrunched my forehead. “So none of the Irish Wolves have been here? I thought Sadie and Naomi were best friends.”
“Sure, but my mam always goes to her. Alone. Between you and me, I think Naomi might be certifiable, and Mam’s just being nice with all this peace talk business. So good luck with that.”
My stomach dropped.
Aunt Tara had given me a list of carefully worded questions about trade agreements, travel permissions, and formal apologies. But the real mission was just getting Naomi to say yes to meeting with her and Magnus. And, if possible, to explain exactly what had happened on Bloody February and why she’d chosen to stay in Ireland instead of returning to her older sisters.
My actual mission was actually pretty straightforward. But if Naomi truly was certifiable, that could compromise the one thing I’d been sent here to do.
Please let him be joking.
“Are you serious?” I asked the Mountain Prince.
“Dead.” The Mountain Prince filched another meatball, letting me down with a wicked grin. “Naomi’s got a reputation, and not letting outsiders in here unless they’ve been bitten in is the one rule we all have to follow to the degree. I wasn’t even allowed to invite other shifter students I met at uni home for the break.”
“Then why now?” I shook my head and once again found myself asking, “Why me?”
“Not sure.” He shrugged. Then winked. “S’pose you’re special.”
I was not special. In fact, I was the worst person a secret kingdom determined to stay hidden could have called in to arrange peace talks with a volatile she-wolf.
And as much fun as I was having with the Irish Bears, gathering research on a feature story that would probably get me hired with anyWolfNet Gazettecompetitor I wanted to work for, it was really beginning to bother me that I couldn’t figure out their motives.
I didn’t know whether to feel guilty or suspicious.
Why in the world would they have chosen me as the first wolf to ever enter their realm? Why trust a holoscribe whose job was exposing secrets?I wrote in my journal.
Why me?
Why me?
Why me?
So, what can I expect…?
“So,what can I expect when I meet with Naomi?” I asked Sadie on the trip from her kingdom to the one of the Irish Wolves.
Two days after the ball, we were speeding down a winding dirt road in a wheel-less vehicle the Shadow King had apparently designed with god tech. It moved on a soundless cushion of air, gliding toward the Irish Wolves’ kingdom on the opposite coast.
