4. Naomi

Naomi

First, the MacDoofus Twins. Now Amanda Smucker. For the second time that day, I felt completely caught out. "Um…"

"C'mon, Duncan, you know the rules!" A nearby voice thundered before I could think up a good lie.

Phew, saved by the commotion! I turned along with Amanda, Sadie, and all the other W?lfennites toward the throne room doors, where a castle guard holding a clipboard appeared to be arguing with an older male.

"If you want into the great hall this eve, you'll have to hand over your dagger!"

"I already gave you all my chibbery!" The man the guard had called Duncan angrily stroked his beard, which was snow white with flecks of red. "C'mon, the Grand March is near over. You're going to make me miss it with this foolishness."

That insisted, Duncan started to charge into the festivities — only to be shoved back by the guard who used his clipboard to keep the old male from gaining entry.

"Alright, let's do this the hard way, then."

The guard whipped out a metal detector wand — the same kind airport security used to scan us back in Canada when Amanda insisted that we use our exemption to avoid going through the Ontario airport's X-ray machine.

The castle guard ran the device down the front of the old male's body — then pursed his lips when the wand beeped loudly over Duncan's calf-high black socks.

"Oh, that's just a sgian dubh, y'ken — a blade so wee, I forgot it was even in there! Ye won't be needing me to toss that tiny toothpick on the pile now, will ye!" Duncan waved a dismissive hand. "Besides, I'm not even one of the eligibles, am I? Just a Da, hoping to down a hauf n' hauf while me son fishes himself a bride from this braw flock our banrigh brought over for our lads."

I had no idea what a hauf n' hauf was, but he pointed a hand toward us, letting me (and the guard) know we were the braw flock Duncan wanted his son to fish from.

Sadie bent down to whisper, "Colorful, but I'm not sure that metaphor quite works."

I grimaced in agreement. "On any level."

The castle guard also didn't find Duncan's argument convincing. He pointed to the small mountain of weapons piled beside the throne room door and repeated, "No weapons allowed."

"Aw, feck it, then, I just won't go!" Duncan bent down to pick up three leather-bladed knives and — I kid you not — a huge sword from the pile.

"Remember the Irish Wolves!" he yelled straight in the castle guard's face before storming away with his small arsenal.

I frowned at the second mention of the Irish Wolves as the old man stomped past us and asked Sadie. "What was that all about?"

"Ooh, I know!" Amanda answered. "It's such a terrible story. But apparently, back in the 1500s, an entire army of Irish Wolves attacked a royal wedding while everyone was drunk and kidnapped all the Scottish she-wolves! And I do mean all of them. Babies, girls, teens, anyone they could get their grubby Irish claws on — even the bride who was already pregnant with the Scottish King's baby!"

Amanda paused to nod along with all the shocked gasps from her fellow W?lfennites. "I know. I know. And, of course, the Scottish males ran after them, but it was of no use. Most of their females were spirited away to Ireland and never heard from again. And there's been a centuries-long riff between the Irish and the Scottish Wolves ever since."

"That's ghastly!" Priscilla, Amanda's best friend and lifetime sycophant, clasped her chest like she had just heard the worst horror story ever. "Is that why I keep seeing groups of boys playing a game they call Irish with wooden swords?"

"Yes!" Amanda confirmed Priscilla's guess with an authoritative nod. "Even though that Irish incident happened only once nearly five hundred years ago, the Scottish Wolves have developed all these terrible rituals around it. Do you know they teach every boy hand-to-hand combat from agefive? And it's become a tradition for them to show up at weddings armed to their teeth. I mean, just look at that pile!"

As much as I tended to dislike the holier-than-thou know-it-all who'd somehow appointed herself the leader of the Bride Exchange group, I had to agree, "It is alarmingly high. "

I had to ask, "How do you know all this history about their beef with the Irish?"

"Beef?" Amanda wrinkled her nose.

And I kicked myself for once again forgetting not to use slang I'd read on the internet in my day-to-day conversations with other W?lfennites. "I mean, how did you know about their ongoing feud."

"Oh, Malcolm told me all about it yesterday." Amanda dipped her head and pushed a non-existent stray lock behind her bonnet. "On our courting date."

Orpah audibly gasped, then lowered her voice to say, " Malcolm asked you on a courting date after you already went on one with his best friend?"

Miriam, a W?lfennite whose glossy, strawberry blonde hair and sharp features always made me think of a fox, cast her a jealous look. "So, not one but two of the most handsome males in this kingdom village want you to become their mate!"

I squinted to the side, remembering my earlier encounter with the MacDoofus Twins. It sounded to me like Gavin and Malcolm were wooing Amanda and who knew how many other W?lfennite females so that they could have their choice of the biggest fish from our braw flock.

Ugh. The W?lfennites had traveled halfway around the world just to get hit with the same bullhockey and games that the choosy males back in St. Ailbe played. Yet another reason to absolutely not acquire a husband on this Bridal Exchange trip

"Do you think they'll fight over you, Amanda?" Priscilla whispered breathlessly.

"Oh, I hope not!" Amanda flared her eyes to make herself the very picture of distress. Then she turned to Miriam to urgently inform her, "And I did not give their looks a single thought when I granted their separate request for a small walk around the village. That would be prideful. I only took their spiritual beauty under consideration."

"Of course you did!" Orpah said with an emphatic nod while Priscilla rushed to assure Amanda. "We all know you are a good-hearted soul who only wants to help your future husband find his one true path as the head of your family."

"Not only me. We are all good-hearted acolytes of modesty and faith," Amanda insisted with the performative humility W?lfennites were taught from birth.

Back home, I would have bowed my head and nodded along, pretending to agree. But here, I was less than two months away from flying back to Canada. I had to lock my facial muscles in place to keep my eyes from rolling while Sadie, Priscilla and Orpah nodded in fervent agreement.

Amanda splayed a hand across the chest of her modest blue dress. "And thank goodness we're here now to serve as examples of piety and peace. Which is why we will wait until this worldly Grand March wedding dance they're insisting on performing is done before we enter the throne room."

More murmurs of agreement rose in the air from Orpah, Priscilla, and a few of the other W?lfennites who seemed not to mind that Amanda had appointed herself the leader of our all-female pack.

Meanwhile, I stood on my tiptoes to whisper to Sadie, "Thank goodness I get to skip all that nonsense and hang out with Ellie."

"Well, maybe if you gave the Scottish grooms even half a chance at the reception instead of hiding away with Milly's baby, you'd actually have a good time," Sadie whispered. "I honestly don't understand why you, of all people, would pass up this opportunity and risk going back to St. Ailbe. Aren't you the one always calling wolf-mating a fate worse than death?"

I understood my best friend's confusion. She had no idea. By this time next year, I'd be in the human world, working toward my degree — not changing diapers and raising pups like her and the rest of the W?lfennites.

Wolf mating was compulsory in St. Ailbe. Once our pack leader found what he decreed to be a match, she-wolves were ambushed on full moon nights and thrown into cages with the male wolf of his choosing. It didn't matter if she hadn't known him long or even if they'd met.

My oldest sister had been wolf-mated and carried off to her new mate's village the next day. Tara had fought it, though, and that incident — along with my prickly personality — had bought me more time than most St. Ailbe she-wolves got. Our former pack leader, Abel Flosswulf, hadn't wanted to risk another disastrous failed wolf-mating. So, I'd been left mostly to my own devices (literally and figuratively) until the age of twenty-three.

But then, he'd handed the pack leader title to his new son-in-law, Daniel. And the asymmetrical "gifts" I'd been born with started causing me new problems.

"I do not wish to fill your head with pride," Daniel told me before church, shortly after officially taking over as our pack and faith leader. "But I have already fielded a couple of inquiries from males wishing to honor you with a mating match."

I'd long suspected that the outwardly devout W?lfennite males were inwardly idiots who didn't truly think about spiritual compatibility when presented with a pretty face. And Daniel's words confirmed it.

I probably shouldn't have answered with the truth. That I'd rather die in a fire than become any St. Ailbe wolf's submissive farm wife.

No lies were told, but Daniel had probably assumed I'd be grateful to be chosen just because our pack had way more she-wolves than males of mating age.

"Perhaps you should come to my office," Daniel answered with a tight smile. "So that we can have a talk about your attitude."

When I caught him glowering at me several times during his main sermon, which just so happened to revolve around Necessary Gratitude that day, a bad feeling turned my stomach. I suspected the secret life I'd been living for years would soon come to an end if I didn't do something.

I'd been scheming and plotting ever since that day, and now, I was super close to escaping the fate waiting for me back in St. Ailbe. So the exchange wasn't just about survival for me — it was the final step toward leaving behind everything St. Ailbe stood for, and I was closer than ever to being free."

"The exchange has barely started!" Sadie's voice brought me back to the present day. "If you just open your mind a little, maybe we could find suitable mates. Then, we could stay here in Scotland and raise our wolf pups. Together."

Sadie clasped my hands in hers. "We could truly be best friends forever. Wouldn't that be lovely?"

My heart constricted with guilt. Sadie had no idea about the plans I'd been making for my life after I made sure she was settled down with someone who made her happy. Plans that couldn't include her.

"What's that face?" Sadie's expression tightened with suspicion. "What aren't you telling me? "

Darnit! Sadie always had been able to read me like the banned books I'd been gobbling up for years behind my parents' backs.

Luckily, Milly and Iain, the Scottish Prince, chose that moment to come over to me with their precious baby, Princess Elspeth "Ellie" Scotswolf — and lots and lots of instructions for what they called a wind-down routin e.

Which I followed to the letter.

Less than an hour later, I put Ellie down to sleep in her parents' bedroom with a tender feeling in my chest.

I was supposed to dart out of the room as soon as I placed her in the metal crib that apparently every member of the Scottish royal family had slept in since the Victorian age. But I couldn't help lingering for a few moments longer to stare at her adorable little face.

So, this was what a baby conceived during a heat mating looked like. My middle sister Tara and I were the result of heats after our parents were wolf mated to make our oldest sister, Leora. But there hadn't been a heat mating in over a decade in St. Ailbe.

Every baby I knew of in St. Ailbe had been born from wolf matings. But me, personally? I had no interest in having some rando W?lfennite dude forced on me during a full moon when we were both in wolf form. And I really couldn't even begin to imagine conceiving a baby in human form through heat sex. Ick .

That was how this one had been created, though. And I couldn't be disgusted at all with the result of the heat sex her parents had to get her. She was gorgeous with big, round, kissable cheeks and a cloud of ink-black curls .

My plans to pursue a graduate degree in the human world didn't include a family. But looking at Ellie made my ovaries twitch — and my wolf whine inside me for the pups I'd never have. Holding Ellie, I couldn't deny that small, primal ache. Still, that was a life for someone else — not for me.

Ah well, maybe next lifetime, I mused as I planted a kiss on Ellie's smooth forehead. Then, I made my way back to the front room of the suite designated for royal family members.

I had never seen a hotel room outside of the internet, or even an apartment, for that matter. But this suite struck me as what one of those living spaces must look like in real life.

The front room boasted a small kitchen and a spacious living area, complete with a television. I knew I could only use it for a few hours before carefully returning the remote to its original spot, ensuring Milly and Iain wouldn't suspect I'd only been pretending to be a halfway decent W?lfennite for years.

Yet another secret to throw on the pile I'd been building behind the scenes for years. No one knew who I really was. Not Sadie, not my sisters, and especially not my parents.

But, oh well, what could you do?

Grab a spoon and one of those yummy premade yogurts, I guess.

I happily pulled open the suite's custom Scottish flag refrigerator to do just that. And how cool was it that I could just grab a tub of yogurt without having to trek all the way to the ice house we'd built soon after our arrival in this Scottish village without knowing whether or not the tub we made every Saturday had run out?

Who needed a bunch of overeager Scottish males when you had yogurt and TV to keep you good company ?

"I am definitely going to have fun eating you with an episode of Rap Star Wives ," I told my new boyfriend, Yogurt, as I closed the fridge.

Only to stop short when I heard a rustling sound.

"Hello?" I said again, sniffing at the air, just like I had a few hours ago when I thought I heard something stirring in the woods.

This time, though, a strange mix of incongruous scents drifted into my nose.

And a gravel-filled voice answered behind me, "Hiya."

Same greeting, but my wolf stilled. Somehow, knowing it wasn't the same male.

Even before I turned around to find two imposing male wolves towering over me.

My eyes registered them but could barely process their details.

One looked like some kind of pirate. He wore leather pants, a leather vest, and a thick diagonal chest strap holding at least ten knives. His long, rust-colored hair fell in several thick braids over the right side of his face, adorned with pieces of metal and bird feathers. The left side of his scalp was completely shaven, though, displaying a collection of tattoos that extended down to his neck and both of his arms all the way to the back of his hands.

The other wolf sported a kilt — but not like the plaid ones the Scottish Wolves pulled on instead of pants. His kilt was also made of leather, and large dusky gold earrings winked from his ears, and instead of a shirt, he wore a pelt over his otherwise naked torso. A pelt made from a bear.

I had never smelled a bear before. Had only ever seen them on the forbidden internet. But I knew that was what the second male's caped coat was made of because the dead creature's face, fangs and all, sat on top of his head. Casting a shadow over the living wolf's feral smile. Goosebumps raised across my skin, and my belly tightened.

"You were asking those overstepping omadhaun about the Irish Wolves earlier," the one wearing a dead bear's skin said. His voice was more growl than breath.

He bowed his head like a guest who'd just popped by for a cup of tea. "I thought you might like to meet them."

No … No… my heart thundered in my throat as everything I'd heard about the Irish Wolves echoed through my brain.

Sexual deviants…

… kidnapped all the Scottish she-wolves… Babies, girls, teens — even the bride who was already pregnant with the Scottish King's baby.

Oh my gosh, Tara. Ellie!

Ellie, who was right on the other side of the bedroom door… which was now standing open behind them.

As it turned out, I was an even worse W?lfennite than I suspected.

The St. Ailbe Ordnung had several rules against any violence whatsoever. Males were not allowed to join any manner of fighting force, and she-wolves were not supposed to even raise so much as their voices in anger.

Turning outside the cage during our monthly shifts was strictly forbidden. Right before the last full moon, I overheard Milly telling my sister how Iain had tried to teach her to shift before her first official full moon. She admitted she couldn't 'find her wolf,' and I was embarrassed to realize I hadn't even known a voluntary shift was possible .

Seriously, the only thing W?lfennites were aggressive about was pacifism.

Yet, without hesitation, I reached for the butcher block sitting on the counter closest to me…

And pulled out the biggest knife I could find.