Page 38 of Their Rejected Queen

“She’s been through enough—” Godric begins, but Arwan holds up his dark hand.

“King Njord requires the full evaluation before the court can select which candidates to sponsor.”

Sponsor?

My ears perk up at that, but I already know I’m doomed to survive on my own from this point.

Because the next evaluation is one I won’t pass.

Ulara completely ignores Arwan as she begins to put her equipment away. She disposes of the needles by dropping them in a tin can, and they make a muted sound against a pad of others already in the container. I’m not the first female to be tested today.

That explains the bodies.

“That test will be completed closer to the start of the games,” Ulara informs him. “No sense in evaluating candidates who don’t survive the training process. Your sponsors can wait.”

When Arwan glares at her, Godric gruffly adds, “Those are the king’s rules, not ours. Don’t want to waste His Majesty’s precious resources.”

I don’t miss the sarcasm in Godric’s tone, but Arwan backs off.

“Very well,” he concedes. “I shall return on a monthly basis to provide the king with a personalized report on Miss Liliana’s progress.”

Both Godric and Ulara glance at Arwan but don’t say anything.

Nobody has said my name. Arwan shouldn’t know it.

The royal grins as if he purposefully revealed one of his cards, once again. He wants everyone to know that he’s keeping tabs on me and that he already knows more about me than they think.

I have no idea what I’ve done to become such a point of interest among the subjects of Monster Isle, but I make a note to do a better job to blend in. Because right now, I am failing miserably.

But at least I’m still alive.

“As you wish,” Godric supplies. His tone is one of finality. He has accepted the royal’s terms, but now it’s time for him to leave.

The royal nods, sending dark, silky hair over his gorgeous face.

But he’s looking at me, not at the Blood Moon Pack Alpha.

“Until next time,” he says with a purr to his voice, and I squeeze my thighs together as a flash of my dream filters over his face.

His hands on me.

His teeth sinking into my neck.

I press my lips into a thin line and suppress the sound of unadulterated need that wants to come out.

What’s wrong with me?

Arwan takes the door this time instead of disappearing in a fluster of glittering blue motes. The door shuts behind him as I’m left alone with the two shifters.

Unlike Arwan, Godric refuses to look at me and turns all of his attention on Ulara. His brow furrows and his jaw flexes before he barks an order at her. “Make sure she’s ready for the first combat.”

Before Ulara can reply, Godric storms out of the room, leaving it feeling much emptier than it had been a few moments ago.

Ulara sighs, then walks over to a fridge and pulls out a bottle of water. “Here, drink this. Our training will start today.”

Based on the state of my aching limbs, I’m definitely not ready for any sort of “training,” but I have a feeling I don’t get a say in that.

Twisting the cap, I stare at it before taking a sip. “Why is everything in here not like the rest of the camp?” I ask. I’d been expecting wooden spoons and a well, maybe, not a refrigerator and plastic bottles.