Page 50 of Wolf King

“I shouldn’t have said that,” I said. The dizziness was worsening, and spinning around to the fast-paced music wasn’t helping.

Cyran just laughed, then pulled me into a spin. I would’ve fallen if not for his slightly too-firm grip on my hand. Nausea turned my stomach, and this time it wasn’t just the anxiety.

“Please,” I said. “I don’t feel well. You must excuse me.”

Finally, we stopped dancing. Unfortunately for me, the room kept spinning around me. Cyran kept one hand on my shoulder, steadying me. “Milady?”

I couldn’t bring myself to meet his gaze, but I didn’t hear a whole lot of pity in his tone. I said nothing more as I let him lead me back to one of the small tables at the edge of the room and guide me into a seat.

“I’ll fetch you some water,” he said.

I closed my eyes tightly, trying to will away the spins. The nausea worsened even when I was sitting down. How had this happened? I’d only had one glass of wine! Sure, I’d drunk it a bit quickly, but it was still just a single glass!

But, I realized through the haze, it had been the only glass on the servant’s platter. Had he tampered with it in some way? Given me something to make me dizzy? But why would he do that? Why would a servant have stakes in this Choice? Someone else must’ve given it to him.

“Lady Reyna?” a cold voice asked.

That was not Cyran. I took a breath and looked up.

Lady Glennis glared down at me impassively, looking as terrifying as ever in her dark dress gown. “Lady Reyna? Your initial trial will now begin.”

“Initial?” I asked.

Her expression only soured further. “Are you drunk?”

“No!” I staggered to my feet, and Lady Glennis had to steady me with a hand on my upper arm. She did not look pleased about it. “I’m fine. I’m ready to begin.”

She did not look convinced in the slightest, but she guided me not to the center of the room, where the dais was empty, but to a side door just to the right of the empty platform. She opened it and pushed me unceremoniously over the threshold.

Inside, the king, the duchess, and the four council members sat in plain hard-backed chairs, facing a chair in the center of the room. My head still spinning, I made my way to the chair and sat down hard.

“Too much to drink?” Lord Elfriede asked with one brow elegantly arched.

“I only had a single glass,” I stammered. “Something—I think something is wrong—”

“I am not interested in excuses,” the duchess snapped.

The disdain in her voice made hot tears prick behind my eyes. Usually, it wouldn’t have bothered me in the slightest, and I would’ve met her gaze fearlessly, but I still felt so dizzy and terrible. Internally, my wolf whined in misery, ears back. She wanted me to run to the king’s side.

The king. The king, who was staring at me with his elbow propped on the arm of his chair and his elbow and his forefinger tapping his chin. He had said no harm would come to me—why wasn’t he doing anything about this?

“Are you attempting to forgo this challenge?” the duchess asked. “To do so would disgrace your pack’s name.”

“No, I’m not,” I said. I blinked hard, exhaled, and straightened up in my chair. I met the duchess’ eyes steadily, ignoring my wolf begging me to submit. “I’m ready to begin.” As ready as I ever would be, I guessed.

“Then we’ll begin,” the duchess said.

“Lady Reyna of Daybreak,” Lady Marin said, “when you shift, do you receive any other powers while in your wolf form?”

I furrowed my brow. It took a moment for the question to process. “None,” I said curtly. “Though—I don’t shift often enough to pay close attention.” My wolf moved restlessly inside as if irritated by this admission.

Lord Nylander leaned to Lady Marin, and they murmured to each other, gazes still on me.

“For what reason do you not shift?” Lord Nylander asked.

“I…” My head pounded. “I’m not in control when I shift, and it isn’t becoming of a lady to be out of control.”

The duchess’ expression soured impossibly further. Why had I said that? The words had fallen off my tongue as if forcibly pulled out of me—the same way they had when Cyran had spun me on the dance floor. The council members murmured among themselves, looking just as horrified as the duchess did. I swallowed hard. I shouldn’t have confessed that—least of all to wolves of Nightfall, who shifted as easily as breathing. Not shifting often was one thing, but admitting I didn’t have a symbiotic relationship with my wolf was another.

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