27. Naomi

Naomi

The Wild Wolves came to stand beneath the archway leading into the secret kingdom — not as courtly males dressed in finely embroidered tunics, but as a pack of grey and black wolves — one of which I recognized. Wild's wolf stood tall at the front, the group's obvious king, even if he wasn't wearing a crown and royal cloak like Sea.

My heart stopped at the sight of the beast who'd chased me down in that field. Shock, trepidation, and something else I refused to name surged through me.

Frozen under the wolf's electric blue stare, I could hear the frantic shuffling of feet, sharp gasps, and panicked whispers as the she-wolves' excited chatter turned to cries of fear.

"Did they bring us out here just to kill us, then?" Kirsty shrieked beside me. "Is this what happened to the original Scottish she-wolves they took?"

Many of the W?lfennites were asking similar questions in the bastardized German we spoke at home. Some even turned to flee to the habitat, eyes rounded wide with the human instinct to run from vicious predators.

But the Sea Wolves chose that moment to reveal the true nature of their earlier considerate gesture. Now that we had walked past them, they were perfectly positioned to block the fleeing she-wolves' access to the habitat's open doorway.

"Don't run!" Sea's command echoed across the arched tunnel. "I tell you, don't run! That will only trigger the Wild Wolves' primal instinct to chase after you!"

The point soon became moot when he touched the knotted wolf brooch on his cape's fastening chain, making the slice of door in the glass disappear, and trapping us all outside its safe confines.

"You've nothing to fear," he called over the alarmed cries of the she-wolves while making a calming gesture with both hands. "The Wild Wolves are trained from puphood to stay in control of themselves. They take their shifted forms daily, and it is their way to give themselves over to their wolves before rites like weddings. Even if that were not the case…"

His expression hardened with sincerity. "We Sea Wolves would die ourselves before we let any Wild Wolf hurt you. Believe me when I tell you, you could not be safer."

As he spoke, a strange warmth spread through my chest, making my shoulders relax slightly. The other she-wolves seemed to believe him, too. They stopped backing away, and the cries of fear died down to a few uneasy murmurs.

As if to reinforce Sea's point, Wild's large wolf loped forward toward me and nudged his furry head into my hanging hand. I stiffened, feeling the eyes of all the she-wolves on me. Shifters didn't believe in keeping dogs as pets, but I'd seen enough human-fur baby interactions on the forbidden internet to recognize this as the domesticated lupine sign for wanting an affectionate touch.

I hesitated, then slowly lowered my hand to pat his head. Gingerly.

The she-wolves watched us warily, but their fear shifted to curiosity when Wild remained calm, his tail wagging slightly as I petted the space between his furry ears.

Just as Sea promised, Wild didn't bite me. Instead, he dropped to the ground and rolled over, baring his belly.

Which I think meant he wanted me to rub his stomach?

I bent further down, giving his belly a tentative pat, and Wild whimpered with a comedic amount of delight, his furry face forming an expression I could only describe as a doggy smile. The tension in the air eased further, and a few of the she-wolves even laughed softly around me. Then, Wild flipped without warning and opened his fanged maw.

A collective gasp went up… until he began licking my face. I flinched at first, then giggled, and the group's sharp fear dissolved into coos of, "Aw, he's stinkin' cute, isn't he!" and " Was für ein sü?er Wolf!" What a sweet wolf.

With that all proven, my fellow she-wolves moved forward to pet the pack of apparently not-so-wild wolves waiting beneath the archway. Their laughter grew more genuine with each interaction.

However, Wild stayed behind with me, nuzzling his muzzle into my hand and melting my heart with his super uncharacteristic "good doggie" energy. Was this truly the same snarling beast I'd been so scared of when he emerged from the stone circle?

"Didn't expect your Wild King to be this friendly in wolf form, hey?" I looked up to find Sea standing above me with a knowing smile.

"No," I admitted, rising to my feet. "I'm seriously beginning to understand why dogs are so popular on social media."

"Watched a lot of social media on that phone we pulled out of your pocket, did you?" Sea asked with a lifted brow. And a suspicious tone.

Instead of answering, I started walking again, following in the wake of the "group date" that had gotten ahead of us and veered toward the right of the archway.

I only took a few steps before both Sea and Wild's wolf fell in beside me, flanking me on either side as the sun set behind us. Sea stayed silent, and Wild remained in wolf form, but I could almost hear both of them intoning, We are your kings .

Whatever. I had more important things to think about than the Irish Kings who insisted on staying close, even though I wanted zero part in this group date. I turned my mind to the calculations I'd need for my next escape attempt.

If the simulation that the secret kingdom called the sun was setting behind us, that meant the tower, which we were walking in the opposite direction of, lay to the west. And if my hypothesis about the secret kingdom lying underneath Ireland was true, and it had popped me up inside a stone circle overlooking the sea, then we were probably somewhere along the west coast of the country.

That might mean something in terms of an actual escape plan — if we weren't walking away from the tower. Several forbidden curse words popped off in my head. I'd hoped there'd be another chance to reach the tower — maybe even bring Kirsty and a few of the other she-wolves with me.

But, at the moment, most of the W?lfennites seemed way more interested in chatting with the much taller male wolves surrounding them than trying to get the hell out of here .

Towards the back of the crowd, Fiona had a Sea Wolf on each side of her. One was tall and rail thin, the other slightly shorter and much broader. They both had their heads tilted down to hear the short and plump she-wolf better, and their melodic, amiable accents floated back to me as the three talked about scones, of all things.

Meanwhile, Kirsty giggled and bent down to stroke the backs of the two wolves walking beside her like protective pets. Frustration bubbled up inside me. Seriously, was I the only one here even mildly interested in forming an escape plan?

"Don't you worry. I've given our males strict instructions about letting the she-wolf choose if she goes into heat," Sea said beside me, mistaking the reason for my disconcerted look. "They're allowed to introduce themselves and make their hopeful pitch, but there won't be a repeat of what happened with Amanda. I know the way that played out upset you."

A thousand criticisms about his version of diplomacy sprang into my mind. But in the end, I found myself asking, "So, you're back to being Mr. Nice King? The wolf isn't in control?"

Instead of looking offended, Sea just threw me a crooked half-smile. "It's much easier for my human to run things when I can't smell your arousal, Mairinua."

A fresh wave of embarrassment flushed my cheeks as we came to the top of a rolling hill. But then I reset to insist, "Those were insane circumstances."

I gave him the excuse I'd been telling myself all week. "I'm pretty sure it had more to do with the effects of Amanda's heat smell than anything else."

Sea angled his head, his long rust-colored hair shifting under his crown as he arched an eyebrow at me. "Pretty sure? "

I cleared my throat — then abruptly decided to change the subject. "Are the Sea Wolves in control of their beasts, too? Like if you shifted, would I still be safe?"

"No, you would not be safe with my wolf." Sea's tone darkened. "I was not raised by the same parents as Wild. My wolf is… extremely unstable. I only voluntarily let him out for the full moon."

I sensed there was more to that story than he was saying. But first, I had to ask, "Wait, aren't you and Wild brothers?"

Sea shook his head. "No, save for the queen from the First Reaping, we have no ancestors in common."

"Then why does Astrid call both of you her broth…?"

Once again, I trailed off before I could finish my thought.

Below us, in a grassy knoll, lay another village. Unlike the darling cottages, this one had large, sturdy round huts made from wooden poles driven into the ground in a circular pattern. The frames were interwoven with branches and topped with thatched roofs. This must be the wolf encampment Sea mentioned.

Whoa .

Outsiders who visited St. Ailbe often said it felt like going back in time. But as I took in the hut village with its communal fire pit surrounded by stone, it truly seemed like getting zapped into the far past. Back to a time before agriculture, when nomadic tribes either hunted or gathered their food.

This place was real. Something told me the huts were recent constructions, built by the Wild Wolves off an ancient blueprint without any help from the possibly artificial intelligence they called gods.

But it wasn't the seriously authentic village that had made me stop talking. It was the structure behind the Wild Wolf encampment .

Another tower stood in the distance beyond the collection of primitive huts.

Another tower.

My heart raced with renewed hope.

That meant another chance at escape.