Page 35 of Their Rejected Queen

It’s clearly working, given that the Alpha is looking at me like he wants to pounce. “You don’t seem well,” he says.

“I’m fine,” I reply.

“Maybe you should wait to evaluate that one,” Arwan supplies. He inspects his nails as if it really makes no difference to him. “King Njord gave me a quota in compatible bodies, not dead ones.”

Compatible.

Is that the test? To see if the girls are compatible?

But, with what?

A swallow works its way down my throat as Ulara quietly prepares a tray. I can’t help but stare as she pulls out what seem to be medical instruments.

A wooden stick.

A modern glass bottle with a rubber top.

And a double-headed syringe.

The last makes me shiver. Modern technology isn’t foreign to me. But growing up in the Magic Sector has largely rendered the need for medical equipment a moot point.

This, however, isn’t a medical procedure to heal a wound or cure an illness.

This is something else entirely.

Godric crosses his arms, sending his tattooed muscles bulging. “You might be the liaison with Monster Isle’s court, but you’re not in charge here, Arwan. I’ll handle the selections, and if you don’t like it, you can wait outside.”

Arwan doesn’t react to Godric’s clear hierarchy correction. The Monster Isle Royal might have some sway with the king, but the Alpha calls the shots when it comes to the Blood Moon Pack.

I store that tidbit away in my memory and hope I get to use it, if I survive whatever happens next.

Ulara takes the stick, then approaches me. “Open your mouth,” she says calmly. Her eyes soften as she lowers her voice. “This is just to check if you have shifter- or vampire-shaped teeth. The evaluation is only for humans.”

Nodding, I open my mouth and shift my gaze toward Godric, then Arwan.

They’re both watching me now with intent expressions. The golden iron of Godric’s gaze clashes against Arwan’s cool blue stare.

And Gods, they’re beautiful and tense like combating stars about to explode. Arwan is Godric’s opposite, but both of them are powerful forces worth respecting.

A tingle runs up my left arm as Arwan’s gaze rakes over me before it settles on my mouth. The female shifter uses the wooden stick to push my tongue around and get a good look at my teeth.

“Human,” Ulara announces, removing the stick.

“Some monsters have human teeth,” I counter, making Ulara flinch.

Apparently, the test subject is not supposed to speak.

She glowers at me. “Perhaps, but for the purposes of this test, only shifter or vampire genetic makeup will impact the results. If you have any other monster blood in your DNA, you’ll likely die. So, if you have any secrets to share, now is the time to speak up.”

My eyes widen. “I’m from the Magic Sector. I might be human, but I’ve been exposed to monster DNA my entire life.” Many of the tonics in my thigh strap come from secretions or blood of various creatures. Sometimes it’s better not to know where they come from.

“Magic is a weapon, something you wield,” Arwan supplies. His voice has dropped into a deep purr that draws all the attention of the room. His blue eyes lock hold of me, demanding the breath from my lungs. “If you’re a vessel for magic, that’ll only enhance the results. Not disparage them. Your genetic makeup is who you are, not what you carry.”

So, he’s come to watch a show. Arwan knows damn well that I’ve stolen some of his magic, and he wants to see how I handle it.

Frowning, I hold still as Ulara turns over my wrist and checks my pulse.

“Alive,” she confirms, making me roll my eyes.