Wolf King

3

He sat back. His eyes still gleamed faintly gold, even as his teeth and nails shrank back to normal as if nothing had happened. “You will be participating in the Choice as the suitor from Daybreak.”

“What?” I balked. “But, my lord—”

“No arguments!” he barked again.

I bit my tongue.

“In three days, you will travel to Efra for the Choice.” He slid the letter across the desk and dutifully, I took it. “You will represent Daybreak well. And you will win.” He sat heavily back into his chair and folded his arms over his chest. He stared off into the middle distance, nodding to himself. “And then Daybreak will return to the throne.”

I swallowed. “My lord—”

“You’re dismissed,” he said.

“Sir, please—”

“Dismissed!” he barked, baring his teeth at me again.

I nearly leaped to my feet, then nodded once and hurried out the door, closing it behind me. I took a moment to gather myself, taking a few steadying breaths in the cool darkness of the hallway. At least there was no Vuk. Thank the gods for small favors. I eased the death grip I had on the letter before I wrinkled it beyond all recognition.

As I hurried back up the stairs, my thoughts turned back to the bright, sunny study that my father had not used in my lifetime.

If I was in Efra, would he finally return to it?

He’d spent my entire life trying to pretend I didn’t exist. I was nothing but a reminder of his regrets: the wife he’d lost, and the male heir he didn’t have. Apparently sending me to the King’s Choice was potentially a two-birds-with-one-stone situation. If I won, I’d live my life in Efra, away from him, and Daybreak would enjoy more power in Frasia by having access to the king’s court. If I lost, he could lower my status in the court without raising any eyebrows. Either way, he’d be rid of me.

If my mother was alive, would he still be sending me away like this? Would he ever want to send his child to the Court of the Bloody King?

I shook off that thought. No point wondering about things that never were. I moved briskly through the halls toward my chambers. My room was near the top of the manor, overlooking the sea. It wasn’t too big, but it was enough for a lady to take care of herself. Despite that, I did spend more time in the library than I did in my chambers.

I sat down at my vanity and, with some trepidation, unfolded the invitation letter.

There was nothing ominous about the letter—nothing that would suggest it had come from the Bloody King himself. It was a simple invitation, requesting that the Daybreak Pack send a suitor to compete in the Choice to become the Queen of Frasia. There wasn’t anything in the letter that might’ve helped me plan for it, like logistics, length, or even the events that would be held as part of the Choice.

If it was anything like King Constantine’s, it’d be quite the affair. The Choice wasn’t just a way for the king to find a queen—it was a way for him to build a reputation. If the king was wise, he’d make this a spectacle. It’d be a gift to the citizens of Efra and any Frasians who wanted to travel to witness it, with weeks of feasts and dancing and celebrations.

The contesting women would be the center of it. Not only would we be competing for the king’s affections—we’d be competing to win the hearts of the pack and all the wolves the king ruled over.

Diplomatically, it was a good idea. If I were to take the throne, Daybreak would gain a much-needed boost in power, and my skills would benefit Nightfall in softening their reputation as bloodthirsty, savage wolves.

I huffed and shoved the letter in a drawer. Unfortunately for my father and for the king, I wasn’t going to be winning this competition.

Even still, there was a tiny chance that this could work out in my favor. If I went to the King’s Choice and lost, without a doubt, my father would lower my status. I’d have substantially less responsibility in the Daybreak Court. One of his advisors would step up and complete the trade-related duties I usually took care of.

I’d no longer be tied to Daybreak. If everything worked out—maybe, possibly, I could leave Frasia and travel the world like I’d always wanted to. I could finally explore the lands I’d admired so extensively on the maps I adored in the library. I could finally find a place where a shifter like me actually belonged.

I wound my plaited hair up onto the crown of my head and then pinned it into a bun. I fit my loose sunhat over it, so most of my blonde hair was hidden beneath the straw. With that and a light linen cloak draped over my shoulders, I looked like one of the normal wolves of Daybreak, instead of the Lady of the Court. There were no other wolves in Daybreak with the white-blonde hair I had, courtesy of my mother, of the Starcrest pack.

It was just another way I didn’t fit in.

I wondered sometimes how my mother had felt in Daybreak. What she’d been like. Had she felt like a misfit as I did? Or had it been easier for her, somehow? Would she have been able to help me figure out what to do in this competition?

But she wasn’t here, and there was only one person I was going to let in on this plan. The only person other than Barion that saw me as me, instead of as a pawn in the court’s games.

When I opened the door, Barion was waiting for me. “Lady Reyna—”

“Sorry, Barion,” I said, pushing past him. “I’ve got to run some errands.”

“Reyna, please,” Barion said, in the defeated tone of a man who knew this request was going nowhere. “We have a lot of logistics to cover regarding the Choice.”

“We can discuss it over dinner,” I said, “preferably with a lot of wine.”

Barion sighed.

“If you insist,” he called from behind me as I hurried down the hall.

It was a gorgeous, sunny afternoon, and I adjusted my sunhat to shade my eyes as I strode down the path from the manor into the main strip of the town. It was crowded, as it usually was in the afternoon, with fisherman coming in from long days on the water and innkeepers opening the doors to their taverns. I carefully held my skirt so the hem grazed my shins, out of the dirt and dust of the cobbled street. The noise washed over me like a familiar wave as I made my way down a narrow side street to Marco’s.