Chapter Nineteen

The girl’s baby blue gown dropped straight to the floor.

Laura’s cheeks heated–the only visible sign of discomfort in a sea of indifference at the display of nudity, but the girl wasn’t bare for long.

Cracking ensued, her spine arching at an unnatural angle, while saliva pooled in her open mouth, exposing the sharp points sprouting as her mouth was traded for a muzzle. She fell forward, bent on all fours as her body continued to change, skin exploding in a puff of fur. When the sounds of bone repositioning stopped, a light-brown wolf stood proud, taking a show pony stance.

Laura would’ve laughed, watching a shifter prance around on display, if not for the serious tone of the room. And the obvious part where she would have to step up there too.

*Fuck*.

A tingle started in her spine.

She cursed Pack Grayson and its Alpha for failing to prepare her for any of what she’s had to go through so far. It didn’t necessarily pose a problem–since she’d passed off being wolfless her whole life, but had she known–given her current itch to shift, she would’ve broken something hard to heal from to be absent.

Muttering came from behind, and Laura chanced a peek to see a number of the court exchanging their opinions.

Laura’s face pulled into a grimace.

“Reyna Fredrick.”

The girl three seats to her right this time stood, stepping purposefully toward the platform. She shifted, showcasing her wolf form, this version a deep chocolate.

It was clear they weren’t being called on in a linear fashion, which only stressed Laura more.

“Sophia Grayson.”

Sophia sashayed, the twitch in her ass drawing an eye roll from more than just Laura. She made a show of stripping the tight green gown from her body, twisting to give the royals–and candidates by casualty–a sultry view of her butt. More than one voice cleared behind Laura.

Eventually, the attention whore shifted, standing tall as a blonde wolf, striking multiple poses.

The light murmurs the previous candidates received were nothing compared to the consideration they presented Sophia. All positive.

Vomit crawled up the back of Laura’s throat.

The blond male ushering them, at least, appeared less impressed, nearly shoving her from the platform as she shifted back, pulling the piece of cloth back over her body.

“Evelyn Roseford.”

As with the previous banquet, the room became deathly quiet. Her shoes drowned everything as she casually approached the platform.

*Effortless*.

The time between her body contorting and her wolf form staring back at them could’ve been measured in blinks. Laura couldn’t recall seeing her naked, she shifted so fast. Instead of posing as the others did, Evelyn just..sat on her rump.

The whispers that followed, however, were more supportive than the response reserved for Sophia.

*To be expected*–Evelyn being the white wolf and all.

She didn’t remain in form for long, quickly shifting and slipping her gown back on, her face unchanging as she returned to her seat.

“Laura of Clan Grayson.”

Her jaw cinched. She stood, making her steps as intentional as possible.

*Breathe*.

She reached the platform, reminding herself this was nothing, before turning to face the expectant stares of those around her.

***

*Why won’t she shift?*

He stared at the female, *Laura*, his curiosity mild.

The pen flipped through his fingers, an outward sign of his impatience with the pace of the exhibition.

He had a list to narrow down.

He continued to present himself as the crown prince dutifully participating in this mating game. He truly thought it didn’t matter who was at his side, be it Morgan–the woman who could read his mood and act accordingly, or any one of these sheltered female candidates, so long as they performed their role as expected.

It wasn’t that he held no interest in finding his mate, he was simply indifferent to thought on the list of priorities…

He smirked.

But for his mate to find him–and choose to hide among the masses..he would make her his priority.

He glanced at his parents. His father was surprisingly against this tradition, wishing for Rowan to find the true meaning of a mate on his own. His mother, however, bullied his father into keeping with the tradition–if only to keep certain clans busy. She’d spent much of her time organizing, and researching the history of the candidate trials. Going so far as to plan backups: should none of the American females prove worthy, it would be back home to Europe, and then Asia..and so on..until there was one.

Rowan had once thought she plotted the long game in hopes of him finding his true mate.

*And so I have*.

He just needed her to come to him–before he ripped the castle apart for her. He was fine with either scenario. Until then, though, he would entertain the work his mother put in.

He chuckled, watching the brown-haired, brown-eyed female stand there, completely still, as if holding her breath would make her disappear.

She’d seemed more than ready to shift when she’d been out running earlier. Granted, her demeanor did change as soon as she saw him, but he distinctly recalled seeing her canines–if only briefly.

*So what’s the reason for holding back now?*

He leaned forward, resting his chin on his wrist. Chatter began to pick up around him, but for all the noise, the person at the focal appeared calm. *Interesting*.

There wasn’t anything particularly notable about her.

Until their eyes locked.

His pen stilled.

While she worked at calming her outer appearance, the tempered flick of her eyes was steady. The kind of steady one learns with experience.

He’d figured she had some sort of past trauma or negative experience from their earlier run-in, and her behavior confirmed that notion.

Rowan’s uncle, Lander Woulf–the exhibition’s director, approached the girl.

Rowan watched the exchange as his uncle breathed into the girl’s ear, the girl muttering something in response. He couldn’t hear over the growing blather.

Suddenly, she tightened, her jaw flexing as her breathing became labored.

Rowan frowned, his teeth gnashed against each other. He was trying to force her to shift.

A low snarl escaped his chest, spilling from the part in his lips.

He received more than a few questioning looks, as the room settled. His *dear uncle* leveled a hostile look before shading his eyes with a bow of his head. Lander cleared his throat. But he didn’t step back.

“Are you unable to shift, dear?” His mother spoke from beside him, saving him from the repercussions of the actions he was about to impart on his uncle.

Laura opened her mouth to respond, only to be spoken over by a grating sound.

“Your Majesty, Laura is indeed wolfless.”

Attention turned to the speaker, whose voice took a piteous tone.

Sophia Grayson, one of the most pretentious females he’d ever laid eyes on.

Her eyes met his before sliding away, a blush creeping past the layers of makeup.

*Nauseating*.

“Sophia Grayson.” She bowed. “I do hope my pack mate’s inability won’t come as an offense to the court—”

“I don’t believe I was addressing you,” his mother responded.

To Sophia’s credit, she didn’t blink–*nor miss a beat*.

“Yes, I just couldn’t bear watching Laura continue to suffer, standing there before everyone, as she tried to explain her delicate situation—”

“I do believe the lady has a mouth of her own,” his mother stated.

Rowan hid his amusement, as the girl spiraled with her lack of situational awareness, failing even to hide her growing irritation with the queen’s interruptions.

“I just—”

“So, you mark yourself as the appropriate party to speak on her behalf? *Sit down*.”

She did turn pale then, hunkering down into the cushion of her seat, hiding from the queen’s gaze.

Scrutiny returned to Laura.

“It’s true. I cannot shift, Queen Lana.”

Rowan narrowed on her..

“I see..thank you, please take your seat, Ms. Laura.”

“Are you sure?” The female stumbled as she stepped from the platform, all attention turning to Rowan as he spoke.

He chuckled.

The female bowed, silence hovering cloud-like as she marched to her seat. He held her gaze until she turned to take her seat below him.

His eyes lingered on the brunette, missing the displays as three more females came and went, watching the goosebumps rise over her skin at the view of her backless gown. She sat pin-straight in her chair.

He chuckled, finally giving her the reprieve of his attention.