Lyris gasps as the line starts moving. A few girls try to frantically flee, but the guards grab them and force them back into the line.
I begin to wonder what would happen if we all rush them at once, a thousand girls against two dozen guards, but then I quickly push that thought out of my mind when I remember the size of their wolves. Ten thousand unarmed girls wouldn’t last a minute against five of those giant beasts.
Lyris and I are near the front, so it’s not long before we are forced into the throne room.
I gasp as I look up at the tall stone ceiling, taller than even the highest canopy in the forest. Beautiful stained glass windows, each one displaying a moment of the Moonborne Kingdom’s history, shine colorful light into the room.
In the largest stained glass window stands an image of an old Wolf King, and oh Gods, he has the body of a man and the head of a wolf. I keep Lyris’ attention away from it.
“Be respectful to him,” I whisper to her. “Stand in front of him, bow your head, but you don’t have to smile. We don’t have to pretend that we like this.”
“What will happen to the girls he doesn’t choose?” Lyris asks. The girl in front of us turns around to hear my answer.
“This nightmare will be over,” I say with a firm nod.
They don’t ask any follow-up questions, which I’m thankful for. I’m not sure if the wolves will return us to our villages or have us for dinner, but either way, this nightmare will be over.
The room feels different the moment my eyes land on him.
Standing in front of the throne, not seated upon it, is the Wolf King.
He is not what I expected.
I warn myself not to stare, and then I do it anyway. I can’t take my eyes off him.
He is impossibly tall. Exceptionally large.
The human girls barely reach his chest. Even the guards standing beside him only reach his shoulders.
King-sized for sure.
It’s not just his size that’s imposing. It’s his being. His air. His royal radiance. Power and authority ooze off him, filling the room and gripping everyone in his presence.
That power doesn’t come from the crown, the castle, or this old barbaric ceremony. It comes fromhim. From the tremendous breadth of his broad shoulders, the dominance of his stance, and the absolute authority with which he commands the room with only a slight rise of his chin or a subtle flicker of his eyes.
His body is built for dominance, for ruling over the most savage beasts.
My body tingles as I wonder what he would be like with his mate. Would those strong, dominant hands be rough and demanding, or would they be soft and tender? I’m not sure which one I’d prefer.
I should be afraid now that he’s in sight, but that is not the feeling that settles in my chest. A thrill of danger ripples through me. An erotic excitement I’ve never felt before makes itself known between my legs.
My heart pounds hard and hungry as I watch him. Every movement he makes is deliberate, composed, and restrained. This is not a man who will lose his temper. He is all control. He isnot a man who needs to demand obedience either. It is given to him willingly the moment he enters a room. He is a proper king.
“That’s him,” Lyris says, gripping my arm as she trembles. “He’s a giant.”
I swallow hard, my eyes locked on him as I agree.
The other girls see him too, and fear ripples through the line the moment his full size and power registers. I hear sharp intakes of breath, the muffled sound of sobbing, the scrape of boots as bodies instinctively recoil even as they are pushed forward. Shoulders hunch. Heads bow lower. Hands tremble.
I should feel the same.
Instead, I find myself staring.
Yearning.
Excited.
My eyes roam up his massive chest and broad shoulders to zero in on his face. His long dark hair is pulled back, revealing mesmerizing gray eyes that I can’t seem to look away from. On the sides of those hauntingly sexy eyes are etched lines carved over the years of carrying the weight of responsibility.
