My stomach cramps, and I wonder if I’ll be sick.
“Um, is that not a tad… forceful? What if I don’twanthim to mate with me?” Arlo says.
Oh, he would want it. I would make damn sure of it. If I had that witch in my bed, he would fall onto the sheets and beg for me to take him.
“Gentlemen, this is nonnegotiable. Unless you find losing your wolf form preferable to mating with Arlo, Mr. Erikson, you will do this.”
Arlo barks a laugh. “Oh, I’m sure he does.”
Far from it, in fact, but he need not know that I’d have claimed him the very day we met if it were not for my vow.
“And, Arlo, you will do your part to ensure he follows through, or your position as an enforcer of the TTA will be terminated.”
Arlo does not seem to find anything humorous about that. He clears his throat. “And what if I proposed another way?”
Harding frowns at him. “Another way to cure his berserkism? If there were another option, we would have found it by now.”
But Arlo shakes his head. “There is another option, Councilwoman. One where Gunnar wouldn’t need to take a mate at all.”
My breath catches. Surely he’s jesting. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve been researching berserkism thoroughly. Norse shifters had discovered a potion capable of soothing a berserker’s rage permanently.”
I was not aware of such a discovery. It sounds too good to be true. But if it is… Hope lifts my heart for what feels like the first time in years, but I fight to tamp it down. “That can’t be possible.”
“Oh, it is,” Arlo insists, pulling a bundle of notes from his bag. “Take a look at these, Councilwoman Harding. Please.”
Though she continues to frown, she waves a hand, and the notes fly from Arlo’s fingers into her palm. Her eyes dart back and forth over the papers, then widen in surprise. “This is… remarkable, Mr. Tenanbaum. If you succeed in making this potion, it would literally save lives!”
Arlo’s confident smile does nothing to kill the hopeful racing of my heart. “I will succeed. But I need time.”
“Could you finish the potion by the end of the month?”
Arlo swallows, wetting his lips. “I…” He looks my way, and when our gazes collide, determination furrows his brow. “Yes. I can.”
“Good. Then within a month’s time, you must present proof that this potion has helped cure Mr. Erikson’s berserkism. If you fail to do so, you must take Gunnar as your mate. This hearing isadjourned. Have a good day, gentlemen.” Her gavel comes down with a bang that echoes through the room.
Wulfric and Anders take me home while Lyall and Soren remain in Jamie’s time to celebrate the outcome of the trial. I am unable to speak to Lyall, though I wish I could. He deserves an apology, and so does Soren. Mayhap it is good. I need time to compose myself.
As soon as I can, I curl up in my cabin and sleep until midday. I’d like nothing more than to stay in bed and ignore my responsibilities, namely the one that demands I take a mate. I’ve thought many times about locking myself up in this cabin and letting my beast claim me. But my family would come looking and I could hurt them, so I’ve never acted on those darker thoughts.
There’s a knocking at my door. With a growl, I kick off my blankets and don’t bother throwing on anything but a tunic. I yank open the door, and my heart and stomach feel as if they’ve switched places when Arlo smiles at me. It doesn’t touch his eyes. “Morning! I brought you some lunch.” He carries a plastic bag that smells like something fried, fishy, and greasy.
“Not hungry,” I lie.
My stomach roars, causing Arlo to stare pointedly at it. “Are you sure?”
Scowling, I leave the door open and take a seat at the table.
Arlo joins me, untying the bag. “I thought we could talk.”
He hands me a carton. Inside are pieces of fried fish and a pile of French fries. “Interesting combination,” I remark, tossing a fry into my mouth.
“It’s called fish and chips. It’s quite popular where I’m from.”
I won’t ask. I’m not interested.
“Which is?” Damn my traitorous mouth.
