The Beast That Bowed

Captain Rusk seized the back of my coat.

"Do not run."

The wolf stopped close enough that its breath moved the loose hair against my cheek. It had no solid lungs, yet I felt the warmth of an exhalation.

Its pale eyes traveled from my face to the locket in my hand.

Inside me, my own wolf went still.

The creature lowered its head, sniffed once, and turned away.

Mrs. Holt's fingers loosened on the door handle.

"That has never happened before," the young servant whispered.

"Then stop announcing it," she said.

They brought me to an adjoining room for a healer's assessment. Dr. Ives, an older woman with silver spectacles, asked about my cycles, medications, and family illnesses. When I mentioned my mother's drops, her pen paused.

"Do you still take them?"

"She died when I was nine. There was no one to make them afterward."

"And your wolf?"

"She has never fully shifted."

My father called that a defect. Derek had called it feminine delicacy when he still wanted me to smile at him.

The doctor checked my pulse again.

"Tell me if you feel unwell during the selection. Do not conceal it to impress anyone."

It was the first sensible thing anyone had said since I left home.

When I returned to the bedchamber, Mrs. Holt was giving instructions to a servant outside. For a moment, I was alone with the prince and his wolf.

Up close, Lucien Voss looked younger than the portraits in pack halls. Twenty-eight, I remembered. His mouth was stern even in sleep, but there was a small scar beside it that softened nothing and somehow made him more human.

Someone had placed his hand palm-down above the blanket. The knuckles were scarred. A faint dark line circled his wrist.

The wolf settled beside him.

"I suppose you are tired of strangers," I said quietly.

Its ear moved.

"I would be."

The prince opened his eyes.

Not a vague flutter. His gaze found mine and held it, dark and sharply aware.

I stopped breathing.

Then Mrs. Holt returned, and his eyes were closed.

I told her. A palace physician checked the monitors, shone a light beneath one eyelid, and announced that involuntary movements were common.

"He looked at me."

"You are under considerable strain," he said.

I wondered how quickly people became invisible here. Perhaps it took no longer than putting on an inexpensive dress.

Other candidates arrived before dawn. Some wore silk; one had a velvet travel cloak lined in white fur. Their attendants unpacked brushes and perfume while I washed my face in cold water.

A blonde woman glanced at my hem.

"Did Briar Hollow send a maid?"

"They sent me," I said.

She waited for more. I had nothing to give her.

The king entered with his queen, two advisers, and a lean, silver-haired man who rested his hand on the king's shoulder with practiced familiarity.

"Lord Severin Voss," a servant murmured beside me. "His Majesty's younger brother."

Severin looked at each candidate as though considering purchases. When his gaze reached my locket, his expression changed too quickly for me to name it.

The king explained the test. Approach the bed. Touch the prince's arm. If the wolf permitted it, the candidate would be accepted.

"You may withdraw now," he said.

A dark-haired girl asked whether her pack would still be fined.

No one answered immediately.

The silence did more than any order could have done.

The blonde went first.

Three steps from the bed, the wolf's light became a wall. It struck her backward. Her shoulder hit a pillar, and she collapsed with a cry that emptied the room of vanity.

Dr. Ives ran to her.

"No further candidates until she is moved," she snapped.

The blonde's hand clutched at the doctor's sleeve. I could see her chipped pink nail polish.

She had chosen that color before coming here. Perhaps someone had painted it for her.

The second candidate refused. So did the third. Another tried to approach from the opposite side and was driven to her knees by a growl that vibrated through the floor.

"Enough," I said before I realized I was speaking.

The king looked at me.

My heart kicked against my ribs. "She is frightened. Let her get up before you call anyone else."

Mrs. Holt inhaled through her nose.

But the queen moved first. She took the fallen woman's elbow and helped her stand.

One by one, the others withdrew or failed. By the time my name was called, sunlight had reached the window ledge.

"I wish to withdraw," I said.

Mrs. Holt stepped close. "Your father has already accepted the Crown's payment. Your household cannot simply retain it while refusing service."

I pictured Owen on the steps.

"Will my brother be punished?"

"The debt returns to your household. What your father does with that burden is his affair."

My wolf scraped against her invisible cage.

There was no safe road back. Only the familiar danger and the unknown one.

I looked at the prince. He lay surrounded by people who discussed him as a problem, an inheritance, a failing body.

I knew something about that.

"If I try," I asked the king, "will you release the others?"

His eyes narrowed. "They have already been offered the right to withdraw."

"Without the fines."

For a long moment, I thought he would have me removed.

Then the queen said, "Yes."

The king glanced at her and gave one short nod.

I walked toward the bed.

The wolf rose. My knees wanted to fold. I kept my hands at my sides until I reached the edge of the rug.

"I do not want to hurt him," I said. "I do not think you want to hurt anyone either."

A low vibration passed through its chest.

"You are afraid someone will reach him while he cannot protect himself."

Its eyes fixed on mine.

I knew how foolish I must look, bargaining with a creature that had thrown a woman into stone. Yet the closer I came, the less I felt its anger. Beneath it was exhaustion so deep my own chest ached.

"I am frightened too," I admitted.

My wolf pressed forward, no longer clawing. Waiting.

I held out my hand.

The enormous head lowered.

Its muzzle touched my palm with impossible gentleness.

Someone behind me gasped. The wolf closed its eyes, and a sigh moved through it, deep enough to stir my dress.

I had been offered up because no one valued me enough to keep me.

This creature leaned into my trembling hand as if it had been waiting for me all its life.

My throat tightened.

"All right," I whispered. "I am here."

The prince's fingers moved against the sheet.

Mrs. Holt announced my acceptance. People began bowing, including the woman who had asked whether I was a maid.

I scarcely heard them.

The queen approached with a small gold seal on a chain.

"You will hold the title of Luna Princess," she said. "You will reside in my son's apartments under royal protection."

She placed the seal in my free hand.

"And when you conceive his heir, the succession will be secure."

The wolf's warmth remained beneath my palm.

For the first time since it touched me, I wished I could pull away.