Chapter 1
*Bidelia* —Five days before her eighteenth birthday
“And then he… puts it in,” Queen Hekla of the Summer Court said and pointed to a very graphic image inside a medical book. I pulled the blanket farther over my head so that I only had a tiny window to peek through. It was getting warm under the cover, but I did not have the courage to even have her in my peripheral vision; I’d rather die of heat stroke.
“Are we done, Aunt Hekla?” I whispered, embarrassed within an inch of my life.
“No,” she replied flatly and pointed to the next page. “Once he’s inside her—it doesn’t mention it in here—but, well, there’s a lot of rubbing an—”
“No, Aunty, please!” I exclaimed, closing up the last of the gap I had made with the blanket. Only the smallest amount of sunlight filtered through the crimson knitting, casting a red glow on my skirts.
“Great gods, Pup,” Hekla said, trying to pry the blanket out of my death grip. “You’d think someone was torturing you.”
I fought her the best I could, but she eventually wrested my cloth shield from me and set the book on my nightstand. Placing a hand on my knee, she turned to lock our gazes. Her umbral eyes could either be warm or terrifying. Fortunately, it was the prior one at the moment.
“You’ve been running from this all year. It’s part of growing up, Bidelia,” she said, kindly but firmly. The look she then gave me was a bit frazzled. “And I don’t quite understand it when I’ve caught you with males—I mean boys—in the past.”
“W-we didn’t do anything!” I protested, feeling quite trapped. We were in my bedroom, but at the moment, it was a heartless dungeon.
“Yes, and I made sure that Mìcheil and Rory continued to do nothing—in their hometowns.”
“Ye didn’t need to relocate them,” I pouted, moving my stare to my toes. That was an age-old argument, but apparently there was no winning against an overprotective she-wolf. All I could really do was sulk about it. The first boy was caught after kissing me. I’d underestimated how good Aunt Hekla’s nose was. The second boy and I were caught in a closet by a guard, one I knew she’d assigned to ‘watch over me.’
“Be glad they were given jobs at all,” she retorted and tossed her long, thick, black curls back over her shoulder.
“Can’t I just learn about this when I get married?” I asked, drawing my knees to my chin so I could hide my face.
“Oh stop that,” she chided, pushing my legs back down to rest on the mattress.
“Ye won’t even let me date,” I argued. “So what’s the point?”
“You’re about to turn eighteen, Bidelia.”
“So?”
She threw her hands up in the air. “So when you meet your fated—euh, if you meet him—you might get… you know… frisky. It’s very hard to control! You need to know how this all works so you don’t do anything you regret.”
I groaned, hiding in my hands. I’d only ever kissed a boy. This was all decades away from now. He might not have even been born yet!
“You need to know the risks of frisks,” she warned seriously, then burst into surprised laughter. Since my nerves were already frayed, her mirth set off mine, and we giggled together, sounding completely unhinged. The gods only knew what people were thinking passing by my room.
Once we both caught our breaths, she shook my closest shoulder and stated, “Let’s get this over with, Bidelia, then we can talk about your trip, ok?”
I sighed and nodded, then rested my cheek in a palm as she turned the page. I tried to ready myself, but there was no preparing. This was undoubtedly the worst of it, right here.
“So, he’ll get a point where he’s ready to ejaculate.”
I cringed. That word was so… so… something. I wasn’t so immature as to call it ‘icky,’ but it really was only one step above ‘icky.’
“And when he does, the seed goes all the way up into her and looks for the egg, you know, the one you release with your monthlies.”
“Yes,” I said sullenly to appease her, my cheeks hotter than the Sun God.
She then finished explaining everything as quickly as she could—which took about twenty years—then clapped the book shut. She looked so victorious, vanquishing a seventeen-year-old girl with woman talk.
“You survived!” she exclaimed and poked my arm to see if I’d crumble to dust. That was a very real possibility.
“Barely,” I replied, blushing fiercely. The dark, cool space beneath my bed beckoned, promising safety from my aunt. She would have pulled me out anyway. Hiding from a wolf was impossible.
“You are a member of my family, Bidelia,” she said softly, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Since the day I met you. I want you to be prepared for life as much as any of my pups.”
“Or faebies,” I said with a smile, unable to resist the family’s inside joke.
“And this is practice for me when Sindri turns… well, whatever age he starts getting into trouble,” she finished thoughtfully. The four-year-old fae was a pretty child, with dark-brown skin dusted with gold, and we both suspected he’d have Belenus’s ego when he grew up. Yes, he was definitely going to be problematic.
“And this one,” I added, gently poking her very pregnant belly. She was on her second offspring with Uncle Belenus, having waited several years after birthing Sindri, and was looking ready to deliver pretty soon.
“It will probably come while you’re away, knowing Nursemaid Pup has her head turned the other way,” she joked, leaning back onto her palms and arching to stretch her back. “Oof.”
“Maybe we should delay the trip,” I suggested nervously. “I could stay and help ye.”
She barked out a laugh and flashed a royal canine. “Pup, I have the whole castle ready to help.”
“Should I even go, though?” I asked, voicing my misgivings, not for the first time. “It feels weird now.” I was looking for excuses now, fearing so many scenarios.
She sighed and stared at the oak-and-gold door to my tidy bedroom, her eyes seeming to follow the engraved leaves. “He didn’t forget about you, Bidelia. King Nechtan has been very busy, just as on high alert with these rot-witches as we’ve been. We all thought this would be a nice coming-of-age trip for you—see some sights, get a little freedom and fresh air into your bloodstream. He’s sent you gifts every year. He’s no less your friend.”
I glanced sadly at the items I’d received from the Winter Court over the years, mostly birthday gifts. He’d been very good at guessing the things I’d been interested in at the time, but I suspected that Hekla had been providing intelligence for a while now. I’d gone through an art phase, and he’d sent a lovely watercolor set. Remembering my fondness for animals, he shipped me a bestiary full of exciting information on how to care for creatures of the Winter Court. Then I’d received several tomes of Winter Court ghost stories. He’d probably heard from Hekla how I used to tell them to her when I’d briefly shared her room. There’d been nothing this year, but maybe he’d have a gift there for me, not that I’d ever asked for one—for any of these. All I’d ever wanted was to sneak into the castle kitchen to make snow treats with him, with my friend ‘Tan.’
My heart sank at how distant the good memories had become. At this point, I felt like I was just being bought off to buffer the abandonment. Gifts were easy for someone with money, and they meant very little to me, emotionally.
I released a self-deprecating laugh. “I really don’t know what I was thinking, that I had a king from another court as a friend. What a joke.”
My aunt scowled at me. “As much of a joke as a queen taking a fae child into her family?”
The blood drained from my face. Horrified at how I’d insulted her, I whispered, “No Aunty.” I was more mortified now than I’d been when she’d pointed at illustrated vaginas.
She waved the notion away with a hand, moving on. “For some people,” she stated firmly, “status matters not at all. You both bonded during a difficult time. It happens. War brings people together, and you had a shared… interest.”
“A shared love of animals? Mac-talla?” I asked, but I wasn’t able to suppress my fond smile. As hard as it was to shake the feeling of abandonment, I couldn’t help myself. I’d never been seasick, but I imagined the ups and downs I felt about King Nechtan were probably very close.
“And don’t you want to see Skye again? See how she’s doing?”
I thought about the mac-talla Hekla had rescued from a hungry bat-shifter. The female fairy creature had been pregnant at the time, and King Nechtan had taken responsibility for her, saying he used to breed them, that he’d bring her home, let her babies develop, then release her. It turned out that Skye didn’t want to leave the luxury of the palace to return to the wilds. Yes, it would be nice to see her again. I nodded vacantly, lost in old memories, and Aunt Hekla rubbed my back affectionately.
“Also,” she added in a whisper, “don’t you want him to talk some sense into Arse?”
I grimaced. That was another good point.
“He is very experienced with mac-tallas. Probably more than Oscar,” I replied with a sigh, one that became stilted when she patted my upper back, just above my wings. I’d stopped flinching ages ago; there was no longer any pain there.
“So there’re a lot of good reasons to go,” she said. “Don’t let time come between friendship. Give it a chance. We’ve been planning this for a while. It’s not easy organizing something like this between Seelie and Unseelie territory, you know.”
Yes, that would be something that’d make me feel more guilty about cancelling. Aunt Hekla always worked hard for me, making sure I had everything I needed since I was fourteen. She gave me an education, an allowance, and a fancy roof over my head. It was unlike anything I’d ever anticipated in my lifetime.
“I’m really lucky,” I said quietly. “I know that. I haven’t forgotten that ye’ve changed my life.”
“That wasn’t meant to guilt trip you,” she replied but tilted her head and added, “that much.”
I smiled and pushed at her arm a little, feeling better.
“I love you, Bidelia,” she said, pinching my chin to look me square in the eyes. “You are family. You are pack. There is very little I wouldn’t do for you.”
“Ah, Aunty!” It was all I could say as my eyes filled with tears, and I leaned in to hug her when she opened her arms. She made me feel so safe and so very loved. Leaving the castle, not to mention the court, was exciting but equally scary. Still, the queen of the Summer Court wouldn’t be letting me go if she wasn’t convinced of my safety.
“I will miss you, Pup,” she murmured softly, her voice thick with emotion.
“I’ll be back.” I sniffled wetly, feeling a bit bad about the tears I’d gotten on her long, silk, embroidered tunic.
“I hope not,” she replied. I laughed at the joke and squeezed my aunt a bit tighter, thinking she was the greatest person in all the realms. Yes, I’d miss her the most, but I’d be back soon enough.
