‘What’s our plan?’ I asked my mate as he glared ferally at the two selkie warriors.
‘Out of all the shifters, our relationship with the selkies is the worst.’
Clearly. They kept trying to kill us.
‘There must be something they want,’ I said.
He nodded subtly. ‘For their people to be welcomed back to the island.’
That seemed to be a running theme with every non-wolf shifter we met. ‘Why did your uncle kick the other shifters out?’
My father never talked to me about the booting of the other shifters, possibly because it happened after Crescent was exiled.
‘The island exudes magic. Those who live there get empowered with more strength and stamina. The women who live there also bear more children. Because only the wolves are there, our race is the most powerful.’
Holy mage. So the king was basically stealing magic from the other shifter clans? Wow. That was interesting and super douchebaggy of him.
I looked at my mate. ‘So, our plan?’
Rage stood tall, jutting his chin out as we walked down a narrow path on a rocky cliff face, and in that moment, I saw the king he’d make one day. A strong, level-headed, sometimes arrogant, but good king.
‘I’m going to make a deal in exchange for our lives.’
He didn’t need to say any more. Whatever deal he struck would suck for him—bad; he’d have to promise them something they wanted. All the while, the clock was ticking on Honor’s life.
Mother Mage help us.
The two males and the female, Melody, who’d sung the royal guards into a stupor on the island, walked us in silence into an open field. It was pitch black out, and we stumbled in the dark for a good ten minutes until we came upon a bunch of torches that lit a path leading to some type of campground. The path was also dotted with something else: heavily armed men stood guard every ten feet.
The selkie in the black army fatigues stepped up behind Rage and gripped the zip-ties that bound his hands, directing him where to walk like an animal on a leash. Next, Melody grabbed my hands and steered me down the path as well, jerking my shoulders when I veered to avoid a rock.
“I know how to walk,” I growled.
She just hissed at me.
‘Say the word, and I’ll blast all these fools to bits,’ I told Rage.
I could handle the few guards around us and probably the ones dotting the landscape. Then, we could struggle out of our binds and make a run for it in wolf form.
‘Try to call your elements. I can’t feel fire. I think the powder cuts us off from it.’
That was a horrifying thought, that something could keep me from my magic. I took a deep breath in and felt for the power that lingered always below the surface and frowned.
‘I can’t feel it.’
Rage nodded, ‘They’ve got us right where they want us.’
Oh frick.
My stomach turned into knots. ‘How are you so calm?’
He gave me a side glance, those piercing green eyes staring straight into my soul.
‘Protecting you keeps me focused. I’ll do anything I need to make sure you’re not harmed, Nai.’
I may have swooned a little. There was no time to dwell on it as we reached a tall, wooden fence with razor wire at the top, stretching as far as I could see in either direction. Every twenty feet or so, a selkie warrior stood guard, likely on some sort of raised platform. They didn’t mess around with security.
“I’m here to see King Ozark. He’s expecting me,” the dude in black army fatigues told the guard at the gate.
How could the king be expecting him?
Rage must have read my mind. ‘Selkies can share a hive mind when needed. It’s what makes them such good fighters.’
My eyes bugged. Hive mind selkies? He’d basically described my worst nightmare.
The gates creaked open, and with a nod, we were ushered inside. The second we stepped into the village, my jaw dropped. It reminded me of the movie Aladdin. Carpets and tapestries hung as dividers to partition stalls that held fresh fruits and vegetables; the women were stacking them into high pyramids, probably getting ready for the day of selling. A few children ran, laughing and screaming, through the alleyways, and little prairie dogs chased after them, like pets.
‘It’s the middle of the night, right?’ I was trying to get my bearings on how long we’d been knocked out, but it was still pitch dark out.
‘Selkies are nocturnal and need very little sleep.’
Wow. It turned out my father did not prepare me for life in the magic lands because I knew nothing.
As we cleared the alley, I glanced back and noticed several more paths, all of which led to a giant castle—like spokes on a wheel, and the stone structure atop the hill was the center. The women wore silks in bright, cheery colors, but their expressions darkened as we passed, and their nostrils flared. Were selkies’ sense of smell as strong as ours? Could they smell that we were wolf shifters? Or did word travel that fast, what with their hive mind?
I was just about to ask Rage where they swam, knowing they were water shifters and would need access to water, when we passed a deep, wide lake fed by a freshwater stream that led all the way to the ocean. It was dark but still well-lit by torches. Half-naked female selkie shifters glared up at me as they undressed to get into the water.
The entire walk from the cliff face to here must’ve been about twenty minutes, and that stream looked pretty deep. I wondered if they just plopped into the lake and swam downstream before they were spit out into the ocean.
One of the women shifted, and I watched as sleek gray skin crawled up her body like her legs were being zipped together, and then it climbed farther up her torso until she was gone and only a large seal remained. Silently, she slid into the water.
I stared, jaw unhinged.
“You have a lovely city.” Rage nodded first at the water hole and then the large castle. Clearly, he was better at diplomacy than I.
The man holding his tied hands scoffed. “Not bad for a displaced people.”
Ouch. That was a burn on Rage’s uncle though, not him.
I had yet to ask about Rage’s political beliefs, but he’d better not agree with his uncle turning Shifter Island into Alpha Island and stealing magic from the entire shifter race.
Before I knew it, we’d reached the castle entrance and crossed into an open-gated garden terrace with multiple women and children playing on a lush, manicured lawn.
Damn. These people looked happy. A few of the kids held wooden swords, sparring with each other as lantern light danced across their smiling faces. The clack-clack-clack of the faux weapons made me smile.
‘Stop it. Act neutral,’ Rage scolded me playfully.
I raised one eyebrow. ‘But these kids are adorable.’
Rage nodded slightly, but his expression grew somber. ‘And their father is the king, who will behead us both if I can’t talk us out of this.’
My eyes widened, and I glanced back at the dozens of children. ‘All of them? Heirs?’
‘The king has a harem of thirty wives.’
I gasped, choked on my spit, and then coughed to cover it. The selkie in front of me looked over his shoulder with a sneer and then shook his head before leading us up the steps to a grand, open room.
‘Rumor is,’ Rage clarified, ‘the selkie king marries any female who becomes a widow so she doesn’t have to fend for food or shelter. He adopts the children.’