The Wolf Princess. Karen Whiddon
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King Leo blinked before slowly shaking his head.
“Good.” Now Alisa turned to face her mother. “How about you, Mom?”
“Of course not,” Queen Ionna hastened to reassure her, while her father watched, amusement glinting in his bright blue eyes. All of the family had those same sapphire eyes, except Alisa. Hers were the color of sea foam.
“I don’t think you’re crazy, dear,” the queen finished.
“No? Then why have you sent for this man?” she wondered out loud. “Have I shown a single sign of mental instability?”
“No, of course not,” her father said, his mouth twitching in an obvious attempt to keep from smiling. Her mother shook her head in agreement, while the boorish doctor continued to stare, his sunglasses reflecting back her distorted image.
“Then why?” Shooting a wry look at both her parents, she waited for someone—anyone—to state the obvious—that this had been a colossal mistake.
When no one did, Alisa glared at the doctor and did it herself.
“I’m fine,” she repeated. “Dr. Streib, I assure you I’m doing perfectly well. There is nothing wrong with my brain, I promise. So there’s no reason for you to be here, no reason at all. You’re wasting your time.”
“I’m not concerned with your mental health.” When he spoke for the third time, the timbre and resonance of his voice was like whiskey and silk. Smooth and dangerous at once. Damn his voice. She had to force herself to focus on his words instead of melting into the sound of him.
“You’re not?” she managed, looking from her mother to her father and back again. “Then why are you …?”
“As your mother mentioned, I am—was—a neurosurgeon,” the doctor said. “I don’t believe there is anything wrong with your brain, not at all. But I do believe that there is something different in you, something that enables you to do this thing that no one else can.”
Alisa picked up on a single word. The was. “You were a neurosurgeon, you said. But you’re not now?”
“No.” A man of few words, this doctor.
“Dr. Streib no longer performs surgery,” her father said, before she could ask the doctor to elaborate. “Even though he no longer operates, he’s the foremost Pack expert in research that may someday enable all shifters to do as you do—to go longer periods of time in human form without going mad.”
“Research. Interesting.” She frowned, even though her mother kept reminding her a smile made her look prettier. Straightening her shoulders, she took a deep breath, not sure she liked the direction this conversation appeared to be heading.
Though she suspected she knew the answer, she had to ask anyway. “That’s nice, but what does that have to do with me? Don’t tell me he wants to study my brain.”
Though she said the last as a joke, no one laughed. Instead, both her parents continued to regard her intently.
“That is exactly what he wants to do,” King Leo said. “And more.”
“More?” she said faintly, looking at her mother for help. The queen’s serious expression told her she couldn’t expect assistance from that quarter.
“Dr. Streib has been given copies of your blood work. He also has requested both blood and tissue samples.”
Eyes gleaming, King Leo practically rubbed his hands together. “We’ve had numerous conversations on the phone. Throughout Pack history, there have only been a few documented cases of shifters who could do as you do.”
Great. Briefly she closed her eyes. Yet another well-intentioned reminder of how different she was.
“Dr. Streib seems to feel your brain might hold the key. You, my dear daughter, might have the answer that could help millions of our kind.”
Horror growing, she stared at her sire. “But—”
Expression regal, he held up his hand to stave off her interruption. “I haven’t finished. This is an honor, both to our country and to our family name. If by studying you, he can determine how you do what you do, your name will go down in history.”
“Studying me?” she asked faintly.
“Yes. Dr. Streib has requested permission to do some tests, none of which, he’s assured me, are harmful to you in the slightest.”
“Tests?” Appalled and ashamed, she jumped to her feet. “I don’t believe this. Why would you even consider such a thing?”
“Because without tests, he can’t determine if his theory is correct.”
“These are non-invasive tests,” Dr. Streib hastened to reassure her, his voice still rolling over her like whiskey and honey. “I will not be cutting into you.”
“I should hope not.” Both furious and hurt, she shook her head at him before turning to glare at her parents. “Am I hearing this right? You want me to be this man’s guinea pig?”
“I wouldn’t put it quite like that,” Queen Ionna began.
“No? How would you put it, then? This is unbelievable. What’s next? Are we filming a reality show about life with the royals?” Snatching up her glass of wine, she took a long, deep drink.
“Now, Alisa. There’s no need to be ridiculous.”
Alisa nearly choked on her wine. “You find me ridiculous? Me? That’s rich. I refuse to let this man experiment on me. I want you to tell him to leave.”
Before either of her parents could speak, Dr. Streib pushed back his chair and stood, facing her. He was a very tall man, lean and lanky, wearing his rumpled clothing as though at home in his own body.
“Princess Alisa, I think you should reconsider. You could help lots of other shifters—hundreds of thousands of them, if not more—if you help us to find the secret to what you do.”
“Has it ever occurred to you that such a thing cannot be replicated?” she said. “You’re a doctor. More than a doctor. A neurosurgeon. Surely in your years of practice, you’ve come across things that cannot be explained. I believe my ability is like that. It just is. No amount of testing or studying is going to change that.”
“Stop being so selfish,” he said, his sensual mouth curling. He delivered this in such a smooth, even tone that it took her a second to realize she’d been insulted.
Then, while she was still gaping at his most recent rudeness, her father stood also, his expression thunderous.
“Enough. Alisa, you will be helping Dr. Streib.” King Leo sounded cool, since he knew full well if he ordered her to do something, it would be so.
“And, once he has formed a conclusion,” her father continued, “if he is able to make some sort of drug to enable others to do what you do so effortlessly, Dr. Streib has generously agreed to allow the manufacturing plant to be