Chapter 22: The Unexpected Judge
Amelia's POV
The silence in the exam room was deafening. Only the scratch of pencils against paper echoed through the hall as forty-five competitors hunched over their desks, fighting for the prestigious Shadow Heights University Science Scholarship. I glanced at my watch—two hours down, one to go.
I smiled slightly as I worked through the biochemistry section. The questions about Alpha-Omega hormone level fluctuations might as well have been written specifically for me. My research on Alpha-Omega biological connections had consumed the last eighteen months of my life. Not just academic curiosity—survival necessity.
The male student two seats over was frowning at question fourteen. I suppressed a smirk. So much for that cocky attitude he had to mock me.
When we moved to the lab portion, I felt completely in my element. My hands worked with practiced precision as I prepared the slides, isolated the compounds, and ran the analysis. This was where I belonged—not in Pack politics, not in some arranged mating ritual—but here, where talent mattered more than designation.
Dr. Morgan, the head of the biology department, stopped behind me as I finished my microscopy work. I pretended not to notice until she spoke.
"Excellent technique, Miss Throne," she said, nodding approvingly. "Very precise work."
"Thank you, Dr. Morgan," I replied, keeping my voice neutral despite the surge of pride.
During the mid-day break, I caught snippets of conversation from the other competitors.
"How does that freak know so much?"
"Isn't she Daniel's girlfriend?"
"Is she the one who was kicked out of the pack?"
I clenched my jaw and focused on my lunch. Their opinions meant nothing. The only thing that mattered was winning this scholarship.
Isabelle slid into the seat beside me, placing a brown paper bag on the table. "Brought you a real lunch. That energy bar isn't going to get you through the afternoon."
"You're a lifesaver," I said, gratefully accepting the turkey sandwich and energy drink.
Wesley appeared on my other side, his laptop open. "Based on my calculations, you're crushing this thing. Your lab work was practically perfect, and I'm guessing your written exam puts you in the top three."
I rolled my shoulders, trying to release the tension. "If the presentation goes well this afternoon, I might actually have a shot at this."
"Not just a shot," Isabelle insisted. "You're going to win this thing."
My eyes drifted across the room, where Vanessa stood whispering with one of the event coordinators. Their eyes flicked in my direction, and Vanessa smirked.
"What's she up to?" I muttered.
Wesley followed my gaze. "Whatever it is, it can't be good."
---
Backstage at the auditorium, the air was thick with anxiety. Some competitors were frantically reviewing notes; others practiced their presentations in whispers. I stood in a corner, shuffling through my presentation cards, reviewing the key data points on Alpha-Omega connection proteins.
Isabelle fussed with the collar of my white lab coat. "Stand up straight. You're the best researcher here, no matter what designation you carry."
Unexpected tears pricked my eyes. "Thanks, Isabelle. I don't know where I'd be without you."
"Probably still kicking ass, just with a wrinkled lab coat," she joked, lightening the moment.
Wesley burst into our corner, breathing hard. "Big news," he whispered, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. "The university added a special judge at the last minute."
I frowned. "Who? Dr. Morgan didn't mention any changes."
"Word is it's some bigwig from Westbrook Industries." Wesley's voice dropped even lower. "They're funding a new werewolf biology research initiative."
My stomach twisted violently, my wolf pacing anxiously inside me. "Westbrook? Please tell me it's not who I think it is."
Isabelle watched my face pale. "Are you okay? Do you need water?"
I took a deep breath, forcing my heartbeat to steady. "I'm fine. Even if it is him, I still have to do this. For Mom. For myself."
---
The auditorium lights were blindingly bright as I took my seat in the third row of the competitors' section. Five judges sat at a long table at the front, with an empty chair in the center position. I gripped my note cards tightly, focusing on keeping my breathing even.
The dean stepped up to the podium, adjusting his tie nervously. "Welcome to this year's most competitive scholarship event at Shadow Heights University."
He cleared his throat, his voice shifting to a tone of unmistakable deference. "Today we are honored to have a special guest serving as our final judge."
The double doors at the back of the auditorium swung open. Every head turned, and the air instantly thickened with the unmistakable presence of a powerful Alpha.
"Please welcome the Head Alpha of Shadow Kingdom and CEO of Westbrook Industries—Mr. Alexander Westbrook."
Fuck.
Alexander strode in, wearing a perfectly tailored charcoal gray suit that emphasized his broad shoulders. His dark hair was impeccably styled, his jaw set in that familiar stern line. Every student instinctively lowered their gaze in respect.
Every student except me.
I stared at him, my heart hammering so loudly I was sure everyone could hear it. The mating bond between us roared to life, my wolf howling in equal parts excitement and pain. One month without seeing him had done nothing to diminish his effect on me.
Alexander took his seat at the center of the judges' panel, exchanging quiet words with the other evaluators. He hadn't looked toward the competitors' section once.
Vanessa, sitting in the front row, turned to shoot me a triumphant smile. Now I understood her little conference with the coordinator. She'd known he was coming.
---
I stared at the podium, trying desperately to control my breathing and heart rate. My palms were slick with sweat. Alexander looked even more imposing than the last time I'd seen him—his face harder, his presence more commanding.
Memories crashed through my mind: Alexander saving me and Nathan in the forest. Alexander waiting me in the Pack Hospital. Alexander's cold eyes as he stripped away my Pack privileges. Alexander refusing our mate bond in favor of his political engagement to Cassandra.
The dean announced the first competitor, and I forced myself to focus.
Then it happened. Alexander's gaze swept across the competitors' section, and when he saw me, his eyes stopped for just a second. A flash of gold illuminated his irises before he quickly looked away.
The mating bond pulled at me like a physical force, but I stubbornly kept my eyes forward, refusing to acknowledge him.
Isabelle squeezed my hand gently. "You can do this, Amelia. For your research, for your family."
I took a deep breath and wrote in my notebook: Whether he's here or not, I'm going to win this scholarship. For Mom's future and mine. And to prove the value of a discarded Omega.
---
"Each participant will have ten minutes to present their research, followed by five minutes of questions from our panel," the dean explained.
The first competitor, an Alpha male studying telepathic connections between blood relatives, gave a confident presentation. Alexander remained expressionless, occasionally writing notes and asking pointed questions that made the presenter stumble.
When Vanessa's name was called, she practically sashayed to the podium. I noticed how carefully she avoided direct eye contact with Alexander, her voice more subdued than usual.
"My research on pack hierarchical structures has direct applications to the corporate leadership model currently being developed at Westbrook Industries," she said, her tone sickeningly ingratiating.
Whenever Alexander's brow creased slightly, Vanessa would immediately shift direction, clearly trying to make up for her past transgressions against me—and by extension, against her Alpha's mate, even if he'd rejected me.
To my satisfaction, Alexander appeared unmoved by her performance, offering only a curt nod when she finished.
"Next presenter: Amelia Throne. Research topic: 'The Molecular Mechanisms of Alpha-Omega Biological Connections and Their Clinical Implications.'"
I stood, clutching my research materials. Isabelle and Wesley gave me encouraging nods as I walked toward the podium, feeling Alexander's intense gaze following my every step.
My heart pounded as I approached the stage, knowing that the next fifteen minutes could change everything—not just my academic future, but possibly my relationship with the mate who had rejected me.