To Choose An Alpha

Chapter2

RAVENNA.

Two days later, I stood at Pack Central, my palms damp, my heartbeat loud enough I swore others could hear it. Sora bounced lightly on her heels beside me, while Mistress Thalia stood behind us, her hands folded and expression unreadable.

The assessment hall was a massive wooden structure that smelled of pine and power. There were nearly thirty applicants, most dressed in fine cloaks with gold-threaded embroidery or branded healer’s insignia. I recognized none of them.

They definitely noticed me.

A few stared outright, noses wrinkled. One girl leaned in to whisper to another, then laughed behind her hand. I didn’t care. Or at least, I told myself I didn’t.

“Remember what I said,” Sora whispered, nudging my arm. “Don’t let them get into your head.”

Too late for that.

A tall man in ceremonial gray robes stepped to the front of the room. “Silence,” he called, voice firm. “You have been gathered here by decree of the Royal House of Elvarim. Only one of you will be chosen to go to Draven. Present your skills, your discipline, and your truth. The Queen's life may depend on it.”

The tests were simple but intense. We were given three mock patients, enchanted illusions with simulated symptoms. Fever, infection, magical poisoning. The final test was more difficult: a neutralizing salve had to be made using only five herbs from a provided list.

I’d done worse before dawn most days.

By the time it was over, my fingers were stained with different herbs, and my back ached from bending over low tables. I tried not to look around too much. Didn’t want to see how confident everyone else looked.

The assessors whispered among themselves. The tall man finally turned to address us.

“Only one name will be called.” Then they retreated to converse among themselves. Minutes later, the man turned to us.

I held my breath.

“Ravenna of Moonspire.”

For a moment, I didn’t understand. My name hung in the air like a trick of the wind.

Then Sora let out a whoop beside me and gripped my hand so hard I winced.

“You did it,” she whispered. “I told you.”

Mistress Thalia stepped forward, placing a firm hand on my shoulder. Her eyes met mine, and she gave me a small nod, her version of shouting from the rooftops.

Behind us, a low grumble rippled through the group. Someone muttered, “A wolfless orphan? Unbelievable.”

Another voice scoffed, “Probably some political sympathy stunt.”

But I didn’t care.

I had been chosen.

The ride back to our district was quiet. I sat in the back of the wagon, the woods blurring past, my mind a blank canvas of disbelief. I was going to Draven. The capital. Alone.

It had always been me and my mother on the move, always packing up quickly, never staying long enough to plant roots. Moonspire was the one place we had settled. And even here, the roots barely held.

Now I would leave it behind.

This time, without her.

That evening, Mistress Thalia insisted I stay with her. She set a kettle on the fire while Sora raided my room to help pack what little I owned. A change of clothes, a few healing tools, my notebook.

“You need to borrow one of my coats,” Sora said, holding up a deep burgundy cloak. “You’ll freeze in that ratty thing.”

I looked at the cloak, then at her. “That’s your favorite.”

“I have three others.”

I smiled. “Thank you.”

She looked at me for a long moment. “I’m going to miss you.”

I looked down. “I’ll miss you too.”

—

The next morning came too fast. I barely slept. The air was crisp, and frost lined the edges of the windows.

A sleek black car waited at the edge of the district, an actual car, with polished glass and gold detailing. It looked ridiculous parked near the muddy edge of Moonspire.

A uniformed man stepped out and opened the back door for me without a word.

Sora gave me a quick, fierce hug. “Be brave, alright?”

Mistress Thalia kissed my forehead and pressed a small pouch into my hand. “Chamomile, lemon balm, and a bit of fennel root. You’ll need it.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

Then I climbed into the car.

Moonspire disappeared behind me, the scent of pine and smoke fading into the wind.

I dozed for much of the ride, jerking awake every time the road curved. Outside, the scenery shifted from wild forest to stone-walled towns, to the shimmering edges of cities. Finally, after hours of travel, we reached the capital.

Draven was enormous.

White spires stretched into the clouds. The streets bustled with people in finery I couldn’t even dream of affording. Everything gleamed, stone, steel, glass. The palace itself sat atop a hill, surrounded by thick walls and more guards than I had ever seen in one place.

As the gates opened for us, I took a deep breath.

This was real.

Inside, I was led by two young women dressed in pale blue uniforms. Neither of them spoke. They led me through a maze of corridors, each one more extravagant than the last.

“Queen Aanira is waiting,” one of them finally said. “You’re to begin immediately.”

“Of course,” I murmured, smoothing my cloak.

The Queen’s chambers were dimly lit. Thick velvet curtains blocked out most of the sunlight. The scent of lavender tried, and failed, to mask the bitter tang of sickness in the air.

I curtsied low. “Your Majesty.”

The Queen lay on a bed that seemed too large for her shrunken frame. Her hair, once silver-gold, was damp with sweat. Her eyes, a pale yellow gray, watched me with an intensity that didn’t match her weak appearance.

“You’re the healer,” she said, her voice gravelly.

“I am,” I said. “May I come closer, Your Grace?”

She nodded once.

I set my satchel down and pulled out a jar I’d prepared during the drive. A salve of crushed different herbs based on the Queen’s symptoms I’d heard of. I pressed two fingers into it, subtly channeling a thin thread of energy, my magic wasn’t flashy, but it was real.

As I gently applied the salve to her temples and throat, the Queen never looked away.

Minutes passed.

Then color began to return to her cheeks. Her breathing evened, just slightly. Her eyelids fluttered.

One of the attendants gasped. “She’s… she’s improving.”

I stood back and handed a cup to the second girl. “There’s a tea in here. Have her drink it within the hour. Slowly. It will stabilize the effect.”

The Queen opened her eyes fully now, and they glinted. There was steel behind the weariness, the kind of cold strength only monarchs knew how to wear.

“You’re not what I expected,” she said.

I bowed my head slightly. “You flatter me, Your Grace.”

She said nothing else. Just watched me, as if reading pages I hadn’t offered.

“You’re dismissed,” she finally murmured.

I turned, heart still hammering, and made my way to the door. Her gaze followed me the entire way. Unblinking. Probing.

It took everything in me to keep walking steadily. I counted each step in my head. One, two, three…

Then the door closed behind me, and I silently exhaled.