Page 55 of Bitten Shifter

Mr Sullivan notices. “Ah, that band—an expensive model! Someone must care for you a great deal.”

His smile makes me want to crawl out of my skin.

“You and your bodyguard will be staying in a suite in the main building. It’s typically staff accommodation, but we?—”

“Oh no, please don’t do that,” I interrupt, horrified. “I don’t want any special privileges. I will stay in the barracks.” I gesture back toward the squat building.

Mr Sullivan looks startled. “But you’re the Alpha’s?—”

“It’s fine,” I say firmly. “I don’t want to stand out.”

The last thing I need is for everyone to assume I’m receiving preferential treatment. I’ve spent my whole life blending in, and I’m not about to start playing the privileged card now.

Mr Sullivan hesitates, clearly torn. “Well, if that’s what you want, Miss Winters…”

I glance at Riker. “Is that all right with you?”

He shrugs. “Works for me.”

“We have two available rooms,” Mr Sullivan says, regaining his composure. “They are near each other, so your bodyguard will be close by.”

I nod politely. “Thank you, Director. How long do you think I will need to stay here?” Please don’t let it be months.

“Well,” he says with a broad smile, “the full training course typically takes at least four months. Many of our trainees have been prepping for years. Most are born shifters going through their natural change, or turned candidates who’ve had extensive preparation. You, of course, are in a unique situation, so you will have additional classes to catch up.”

My heart sinks.Four months. Years of preparation. And here I am, utterly clueless. It’s as though I’ve been thrust into an advanced fighter jet programme with no idea how to fly a plane.

“A couple of weeks, perhaps. The Alpha Prime has requested that you remain here until you have learned to shift. After that, he will take you to the Capital for private tutoring.”

The edge in his tone suggests he is less than thrilled about that arrangement. Evidently, my being whisked away by Merrick chafes his professional pride.

Fantastic. I’m already making friends.

Chapter Twenty-Two

I sitthrough the psychologist’s session, keeping my face blank and my mouth tightly reined. This isn’t my chosen doctor. I didn’t hire her. She is the Ministry’s expert, and I’m fully aware her notes will end up in my file. So, I play along, answering her questions with upbeat, practised responses that sound perfectly adjusted and optimistic.

I lie through my teeth.

“Yes, large dogs make my heart race.”

“Yes, I feel mildly anxious to be around shifters.”

“Of course, I’m taking everything one day at a time.”

She laps it up. By the end, I escape her office with a professional smile, a vague recommendation for ‘a few more sessions,’ and her assurance that I’m ‘adjusting remarkably well.’”

Sure. Whatever gets me out of here.

On the way to my assigned room, pamphlets in hand, I spot a girl struggling with a large metal case. Sweat beads on her forehead, and her cheeks are flushed pink from the effort. She bites her lip, her palms bright red where they grip the handle.

“Hi,” I say, stepping around her. “Need a hand?”

She blinks up at me with wide blue eyes, pale blonde curls framing her face. When our eyes meet, she dips her head, letting her hair fall like a protective curtain.

“Oh, I’m all right,” she whispers.

“No, really, I can help. That looks heavy.”

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