The kiss started out damn near perfect, a sensual merging of lips that felt as natural as shifting to wolf had earlier.

It felt … right. More than that. Perfect. Braden had dreamed of this, ached for this, in truth ever since he’d first heard the sexy sound of her throaty voice.

Crazy. Foolish. And not at all like him.

Despite this, he craved more, much more. He wanted to do things with her that someone like him had no business wanting to do with a royal princess.

And that was enough reason to make him realize he needed to stop. Right this instant.

He broke off the kiss and moved away, feeling oddly bereft. “My apologies,” he told her, stiffly formal. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I didn’t mind.” Rather than furious, she sounded strangely elated. “Why apologize for something we both clearly enjoyed?”

Enjoyed?

Dear Reader,

Nearly every little girl dreams of being a princess, which made me wonder if princesses dreamed of being … ordinary. Not boring ordinary, but a regular person who could go to college, hit the mall for sales and stroll the beach without notice. And a shape-shifter princess would have it far worse—the only time she could be like everyone else would be when she became a wolf.

The Wolf Princess is about such a woman.

The youngest daughter in the royal family of the fictional country of Teslinko, she is sought after, stared at and talked about. And when a blind doctor travels from America to study her, that seems to be the last straw.

Instead, she learns her new life has just begun.

The sequel to this title, The Wolf Prince, will be out next year. Both brother and sister have their own journey and, though they might seem diametrically opposed, they are actually pretty similar—both headed toward love. After all, that’s what life is really all about.

Sincerely,

Karen Whiddon

About the Author

KAREN WHIDDON started weaving fanciful tales for her younger brothers at the age of eleven. Amidst the Catskill Mountains of New York, then the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, she fueled her imagination with the natural beauty that surrounded her. Karen now lives in north Texas, where she shares her life with her very own hero of a husband and three doting dogs. Also an entrepreneur, she divides her time between the business she started and writing. You can e-mail Karen at KWhiddon1@aol.com or write to her at PO Box 820807, Fort Worth, TX 76182, USA. Fans of her writing can also check out her website, www.karenwhiddon.com.

The Wolf
Princess
Karen Whiddon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To all the readers who write to me, whether by e-mail or paper and pen, thank you for your notes. They mean the world to this busy writer. Again, thank you.

Chapter 1

Princess Alisa of Teslinko’s first hint that the man waiting for her at her family’s table was trouble was the fact that he wore dark glasses—even inside the palace dining room, where the candle-illuminated table made the light relatively dim.

Her second hint, his unabashedly scruffy appearance—from his rumpled black hair to his disheveled, too-casual clothes. Usually when suitors—even those from other countries—visited royalty, they made sure to look their best, even for her. The fact that he hadn’t bothered told her he either honestly didn’t care, or worse, didn’t know any better.

Either way, as she made her way toward him, she grudgingly admired him for his boldness in daring to be different. She had to admit, it pricked her interest, especially since she was different herself. Someone like him was a welcome change from the usual ass-kissers who came seeking her hand. Though she knew she’d eventually have to choose one of them, so far she hadn’t been able to get past the fact that every single one of them felt more infatuated with her money and status than her.

And now this man, apparently the latest in a long queue of minor Pack royalty.

Head up, dark glasses obscuring his face, he ignored her as she drew closer. This gave her pause. He didn’t turn toward her and flash his teeth in a patently false smile or dip his perfectly cleft chin in acknowledgment or even give any outward sign that he noticed her approach. Except for the slight flaring of his nostrils, he might have been completely oblivious.

Barely stopping herself from rolling her eyes, she made her way to the table, affecting a pleasant smile that she hoped hid her frustration. Lately her parents had been focused obsessively on marrying her off, as though they had some sort of checklist of their children’s names and hers was the next one on it. It didn’t help that she was not as beautiful as her two older sisters or that she was known around Teslinko as a bit of a brainiac.

And here sat yet another one of her parents’ finds.

There was a second or two of extreme awkwardness when she reached them. Her father gallantly stood, while her mother and the stranger remained seated. Alisa couldn’t believe it. She’d never had a visitor—suitor or otherwise—act in such a deliberately boorish manner.

Finally, as though by second thought, he pushed back his chair and stood, tilting his head as her father performed the introductions. His title and name—Doctor Something—barely registered as she studied him, wondering why he looked so familiar, when in fact she knew they’d never met.

“Princess Alisa, I’m honored to meet you.”

About to make some pithy comment, Alisa froze. Stunned, she couldn’t at first form a reply. The richness of his sensual voice rolled over her like molten caramel. Her reaction shocked her. Quite frankly, she hadn’t been expecting this at all.

Despite herself, she shivered. Hellhounds.

Gathering her shredded composure, she inclined her head. She could do this. After all, she was a princess, well schooled in affecting grace in all sorts of unique situations. One rude stranger with a voice as rich as sin couldn’t even put a dent in her composure.

Regally, she held out her hand, absently wondering if he’d kiss it or simply take it in a weak clasp before releasing it. When he did neither, her heart rate increased and her face heated. Swallowing hard as this next bit of discourtesy forced her to slowly lower her arm, she glanced at her father to see how he was taking all this. Such impossible behavior should not be tolerated. At the very least, this man should be given a severe dressing down. Or, even better, sent packing.

But instead of wearing a thunderous frown, King Leo simply pulled out her chair for Alisa, indicating with a dip of his chin that she should sit.

Really? Biting back a retort, she did. Once she’d gotten seated, Dr. Rude-with-sunglasses-still-on did the same.

Great. Her parents weren’t going to let her off the hook so easily. She’d have no choice but to smile and somehow get through what promised to be the dreariest hour she’d spent in weeks. Months, even. Which just went to show exactly how far her parents were willing to go to procure a husband for their plain and brainy daughter. They refused to accept the fact that Alisa did not want to get married. Not yet, maybe not ever.

Barely curbing her impatience, she schooled her face into a bland sort of pleasantness. Though she realized how excruciatingly long this luncheon just might be, part of her job as princess was making sure her visitor had no idea that she wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere else.

But still … glancing at the man wearing his dark sunglasses, she sighed. Discourteousness had a way of begetting impoliteness. Maybe she could help move things along if she simply cut to the chase.

Leaning across the table, she flashed him her most brilliant smile, even though she knew smiling only detracted slightly from her plainness. “Doctor, I’m afraid I missed your name. But since you’re here, why don’t you tell me why you think I should consider marrying you rather than someone else? We can save a lot of time that way.”

To her astonishment, the doctor nearly choked on the wine he’d been about to drink. Carefully setting the glass down, he blotted his mouth with the napkin before he cocked his head toward her. “I think you misunderstand,” he began. “Actually, I believe you’re a bit confused as to the purpose of my visit.”

Again she had that odd reaction to his voice, which both infuriated and inexplicably energized her. And for him to say she was confused? Now that was fresh. Most of her prior suitors had carefully avoided commenting on her intelligence, even though that was the one thing she truly liked about herself. Brains over beauty, this had been the hand she’d been dealt. She’d long ago stopped longing to be more like her glamorous older sisters.

“Misunderstand what?” Her tone came out a bit sharper than she’d intended, causing her father to reach over and cover her hand with his in a gentle warning.

Taking a deep breath, she continued in a much softer voice. “Are you or are you not here because you want to apply for my hand in marriage?”

King Leo cleared his throat and started to speak. To her shock, the doctor held up a hand to silence him. The king. He dared to silence the king. Hiding her glee, she waited for the eruption. Any moment now, all hell would break loose.

To her surprise, nothing happened. Her father’s always-mercurial temper appeared to be on hiatus. Instead of acting infuriated as he should be, her father appeared to find this man hugely amusing. What she didn’t understand was why. Had her parents truly given up all hope for her?

Apparently completely unaware, the doctor leaned forward. “About your assumption that I’m here as your … what, suitor? I’m not. Not at all.”

“Really?” she repeated. “But—”

He continued on as if she hadn’t spoken. “That’s a bit arrogant of you, isn’t it? Do you automatically believe that any man who visits has some sort of over-reaching desire for you?”

Arrogant? He really didn’t know her at all, did he? She would have thought the man would have at least bothered to do some research on her before his arrival.

Opening her mouth, she eyed his blasted dark glasses. Her father’s glare and her mother’s slow shake of the head made her close it without giving any sort of rebuttal.

“I can assure you,” he said, his low, impossibly rich voice vibrating with certainty, “I have absolutely zero interest in marrying you, or anyone else for that matter.”

Stunned, she sat back in her chair. To further the surreal aspect of it all, neither of her parents commented. At all. Even if he wasn’t here to court her, even though it was the twenty-first century, who talked to a princess like that? Who talked to anyone like that? Honestly.

As she pondered how to respond, her mother leaned forward and took Alisa’s hand, gently squeezing. “Honey, Dr. Streib is here because we asked him to come for medical reasons. You know we’ve been concerned about your health. And even in America, Dr. Streib learned of your situation. He’s traveled all this way because of that.”

Mortified and horrified, Alisa finally realized what Doctor what’s-his-name was doing here. “They called you because they think I’m sick.” Saying this, she felt queasy.

Expressionless, sunglasses still hiding his eyes, he nodded. “I am a doctor, yes. But—”

This time she interrupted him. “Honestly, I’m sorry they wasted your time. Which they have.” Turning her attention to her most likely ally, her father, she tried to keep her voice level. “Dad. There is nothing wrong with me. Just because I haven’t shifted into wolf lately …”

“Six months is not ‘lately.’” Despite the steely look in his eyes, like her he kept his tone mild. “You know as well as I do that you need to change more often. Everyone does.”

“I don’t. I’ve told you—”

“Yes, you have. And your story has become well known in not only our country, but all around the world. So much so that Dr. Streib contacted us from the United States and expressed a wish to examine you. Your mother—and I,” he added pointedly, “are both very concerned over your mental well-being.”

“I’m fine.” She’d grown weary of the old argument. Ever since she’d first shape-shifted, with no inclination or yearning to do so again on any regular basis, her parents had worried. Until she’d become a teenager, her mother had made shifting to wolf a family event, something that they did every weekend, as regularly as other families went to church or to the mall. This had been their way to ensure Alisa changed regularly. She’d actually come to enjoy these little outings, the royal pack of wolves running and hunting and playing together in the rugged mountains near the palace.

But once she and her siblings had grown older, her sisters had gotten married, and her mother had weddings to plan and grandchildren to dote over. The family get-togethers had stopped and Alisa had changed less and less frequently.

Unlike apparently everyone else in the Pack, she didn’t feel a craving or compulsion to become wolf. In truth, she hadn’t cared if she remained human forever. Actually, she hadn’t even been aware six months had passed since the last time she shape-shifted. And she certainly hadn’t realized her parents were still keeping track.

Now, they were so concerned about her mental health that they’d invited this man into their home. Was he a psychologist? Because according to conventional wisdom, her ability to remain in her human form for a longer period of time than most meant that she should be stark raving mad.

The fact that she wasn’t continued to astound everyone.

“Then you are here to psychoanalyze me?” she asked, hurt despite herself. “You are going to make sure I’m not crazy, is that it?”

“No. I’m not that kind of doctor,” he began.

“Doctor Streib is a top neurosurgeon,” her mother said, still holding Alisa’s hand. “He has also made a career out of studying the brain. He is here because he believes that your ability could have great benefits for our kind if it can be replicated.”

Replicated? Eyeing her parents, who until now had seemed remarkably indulgent of her many imperfections, she began to wonder if they were only making up this nonsense to soothe her wounded pride over the fact that they believed she needed a psychiatrist.

“Do you think I’ve gone mad?” she asked bluntly, holding her father’s gaze.

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 based in Teslinko.”

His stern gaze pinned her. “I know I don’t need to tell you what a boon this will be for both our economy and our people.”

And there he had her. If she refused—which, as the youngest female child and the second most spoiled after her younger brother Ruben, she still could, even though it’d mean a lengthy fight—she’d come out the bad guy.

And even then, there was a definite chance she’d probably still lose, as strange as they were acting. It didn’t help that her parents knew she was just as passionate about their people and their country as they were.

Defeated, she swallowed, forcing herself to think rationally. An opportunity such as this was too good to pass up, no matter the personal cost.

Besides, running a few tests shouldn’t take too awfully long. Dr. Streib would be merely a momentary annoyance, that’s all. But still …

“Let me see if I have this right,” she said slowly, eyeing her father. “You want me to be this man’s experimental lab rat in exchange for a possible promised factory? Even though there’s a distinct possibility that he may never find the secret and even be able to make the medicine he’s aiming for?”

Both King Leo and Queen Ionna looked at the doctor.

Instead of responding, Dr. Streib continued to watch her, the blasted dark glasses still hiding his eyes.

“Fine.” Alisa exhaled when it seemed no one else would comment. “How long is this going to take?”

“Not forever,” her father hastened to reassure her. “I’ve put a time limitation on this.”

“How long?”

“He has one month, no more. If after two fortnights he doesn’t have his answer, he will have to go back to the United States empty-handed.”

Now would have been the time to chime in, but still Dr. Streib remained silent, his sunglasses hiding his eyes. Her resentment toward those soulless dark glasses of his increased by the minute.

“If he fails and, as I’ve said all along, discovers that I am perfectly normal in every way, what then?” she asked. “How will we be compensated for my time?”

Now Dr. Streib chose to interject. Now, when she’d been talking to her parents rather than him. “What will you get out of it? You’ll have been given a chance to help your people. You’ll know you gave it your best shot.”

Again, one corner of his well-shaped mouth twisted in what could have been either the beginnings of a smile or of a sneer. “What more can a royal princess ask for?”

Biting back her immediate surge of anger at his sarcasm, she made her tone icy. “Actually, I wasn’t asking you. I was speaking to my father.”

If she’d expected him to feel intimidated, she was wrong. Instead, he tilted his head and eyed her the way he might have studied a small, poisonous insect before crushing it under the heel of his boot.

“Are you really going to continue these objections?” he asked. “While you are a princess, you aren’t even the next in line for the throne. Your time isn’t all that valuable.”

Stifling a gasp, she eyed her mother and father, noted that they were watching with amusement plain on their aristocratic faces, and felt a flush of shame.

Shame? Really? Swallowing, she lifted her chin. She, who prided herself on her sharp intellect and emotionless demeanor, would not lose her cool. She hadn’t since she’d been thirteen. Now twenty-four, she took a sort of grim pleasure in her reputation as the princess who got the brains rather than the beauty.

“For the last time, this is a private matter between my family and me,” she said evenly. “Please, stay out of it. And,” she added for good measure, “why don’t you take those sunglasses off? There’s no need to wear them inside the palace. The light is not even all that bright, especially in this room.”

Staring hard at him, daring him, she ignored her mother’s wordless sound of dismay and her father’s muffled protest. Instead, she continued to watch the doctor, curious as to how he would react.

“Take the sunglasses off,” she repeated, waiting, watching as his hand came up and he slowly, finally removed the dark glasses.

The instant he did, her world shifted on its axis as she realized she’d been more than insensitive.

First, the sunglasses weren’t a fashion statement or an attempt to be cool or rude or any of the things she’d initially suspected.

Dr. Streib was blind. He’d been covering up his beautiful, sightless eyes.

Yet he was Pack. She could see his aura. How could he be blind? This wouldn’t be possible if he was a full-blooded shifter. Full shifters healed rapidly from any injury except fire and iron.

Which meant he had to be Halfling, part human. They did not always heal from their injuries so easily.

Still, with all his resources, why hadn’t he sought the help of a healer? She’d heard one existed in the United States, living in Texas. The woman, Samantha something-or-other, had been hailed as a miracle when her remarkable abilities to heal Halflings had been discovered.

But his blindness and his Halfling status weren’t the only things she recognized now that she could get a good look at his face. Oh, no. The man standing before her with barely curbed impatience twisting the corner of his sensual mouth was someone she’d been waiting to meet most of her life.

Her mate. The One.

That is, she reined her thoughts in, if she actually believed in such things. Which she didn’t. The concept of true mates was nothing but romantic nonsense.

Still, a part of her couldn’t help but wonder.

When she’d been a teenager with raging hormones, devouring two or three romance novels a week, she’d often imagined her type. She’d firmly believed he was out there somewhere, waiting for her. Waiting to complete her.

This man, this Dr. Streib, with his dark, craggy features and ancient, sightless eyes, wasn’t remotely what she’d pictured or even what she found herself attracted to. Yet, as improbable as it might be, she felt an instant, senseless certainty that he was The One. The only One.

Of course, she immediately discounted that, preferring to consider those few seconds as a bit of romantic foolishness left over from her teenage years. One last shred of the silly adolescent she’d been, rising from the depths one last time, only to be ruthlessly quashed, never to appear again.

Dr. Streib, she told herself, was nothing to her. Nor would he ever be. She’d suffer through his ridiculous tests, let him pretend he had the slightest chance of learning the answer, and then send him home with his metaphorical tail tucked between his legs.

As far as she was concerned, the day couldn’t come fast enough.

The sooner she got rid of him the better.

Chapter 2

As soon as Her Royal Highness Princess Alisa of Teslinko opened her mouth, Dr. Braden Streib knew he was in Trouble with a capital T. Because his wolf reacted strongly to her voice.

Strongly being the understatement of the year. Throughout his thirty-eight years, he’d periodically fought with his lupine half. Everyone did. When the wolf wanted out, he wanted out. The place or time didn’t matter to the beast. Most times, subduing the urge to change was a simple matter, using a light touch and a firm resolve.

Not so, this time. This time, his wolf fought like a caged, wild thing driven mad by a long captivity.

At first stunned, Braden successfully battled the beast back into submission, trying to understand what had just happened.

For some reason, whether from the sound of her voice or her intriguing, feminine scent, Princess Alisa affected his wolf, intensifying his urge to shape-shift.

This made absolutely no sense. Braden had no scientific rationale on which to base this supposition. Yet simply being in the same room with her resulted in an epic battle between his human and wolf natures.

Something about her mere presence in his proximity spoke to him on a subconscious level. Something primal, compelling. And completely without reason. The scientific part of him abhorred such illogic.

But the part of him that was wolf didn’t care about reason, or logic, or even common sense. The wolf inside him reacted simply to external stimuli, which in this case was her. Princess Alisa was, for some unknown reason, the catalyst. His wolf reacted to her with a violent certainty.

Making him at war with himself.

Not good, especially since his first impression of her wasn’t a good one. The woman was stubborn and arrogant. He could hear it in the impatient, irritated tone she used.

Of course, he supposed that was to be expected. She was royalty, after all, not used to mingling with common mortals like himself. Presented with an opportunity to do something that might help not only her own country but shifters around the world, she’d balked. No doubt she planned on sulking like a spoiled child and making things as difficult as possible when they worked together, hoping to shorten the amount of time he would require her.

Her ploy wouldn’t work. He’d tough it out. He might not like her, but he had no choice. If he could have chosen another subject to use in his research, he definitely would have.

But her kind was rare. In fact, she was the only one he’d heard of who could go so long without changing and continue to exhibit no outward signs of madness. So he would have to use her, whether he or she liked it or not. Life wasn’t always a bowl of cherries, something that had been proven to him over and over.

She’d imperiously demanded he remove his dark glasses. He’d complied. After he’d done so, he waited for whatever pithy comment she’d come up with.

He heard the sharp intake of breath that indicated she’d only just realized the extent of her rudeness. Waiting for the inevitable apology felt a bit anticlimactic, so he decided to head her off at the pass.

“Now, about the experiments … I was thinking four hours in the morning before lunch, then if you can spare the time, another two hours in the afternoon. Will that work for you?”

His rapid change of subject worked as a distraction. She sputtered, whatever half-hearted apology she’d been about to utter forgotten. “Six hours a day? That’s impossible. I have way too much to do to be able to agree to that large a block of time. I was thinking more along the line of an hour a day.” Her tone made it clear she thought she was being generous.

Braden bit back a retort. He couldn’t help but wonder if the king and queen enjoyed watching them spar the way spectators did at a tennis match. Whatever they were doing, they were awfully quiet. He didn’t like quiet people—silence made it difficult for him to visualize them.

“Dr. Streib?” The princess touched his hand, sending an odd frisson of electricity through him. “Are you listening to me? I cannot possibly work with you for more than an hour—or two at most—a day.”

“Ah, so we’re going to barter for time?” Facing in her direction, eyebrows raised, he gave her a look plainly meant to tell her what he thought of her. To strengthen the effect, he left his sunglasses lying on the table in front of him, right next to the bowl of what smelled like fresh salad that the servers had just placed in front of him.

When she didn’t immediately respond, King Leo cleared his throat. “I think we’ve had enough discussion for now. Let’s enjoy our lunch, shall we? And then surely you two can work something out afterward.”

The reply Princess Alisa made to her father’s barely veiled command was unintelligible. Braden hid a smile as he fumbled for his fork, glad he finally would get to eat something more substantial than the dry breakfast bar he’d taken from the meager supply of snacks he’d packed for the trip. Across from him and next to him, he heard the clink of silverware on china as everyone began to eat.

Funny, how he pictured this place and these people. Judging from his booming voice and jovial tone, King Leo would be a robust man, with a full head of wavy hair and maybe even a short beard. Queen Ionna would be blonde and tiny and petite, with the kind of regal beauty found only in the movies.

While Princess Alisa … He puzzled briefly over her. No doubt she resembled a Barbie doll, all curves and plastic perfection.

Still pondering the images, he turned his attention to the meal. The salad was fresh and crisp, the dressing delicious, melting on his tongue. He barely got to enjoy the amazing explosion of subtle flavors before he finished the last bit of watercress and the servers began whisking away the bowls. Hurriedly, he put his fork down and instantly, someone removed his empty bowl. A second later, someone else placed another plate in front of him.

The next course, some kind of baked fish and evidently the main luncheon, smelled so good his mouth watered. He didn’t want to continue stuffing his face like a cretin, so he let himself savor the smell. “What kind of fish is this?” he asked politely.

“This is nase, one of our native fish and our chef’s specialty,” Queen Ionna said softly. “It’s a particular favorite in our country. I hope you like it.”

Her lightly accented English was pleasing to the ear. Thanking her, he nodded, well aware that even if the nase tasted like baked sawdust, he’d have to choke it down with a complimentary smile on his face.

Luckily for him, the first bite proved as wonderful as it smelled, which was no small feat. These days, since losing his vision, he was all about the scent, even as human. This had the added benefit of making him feel much closer to his lupine nature.

A companionable silence fell while they all dug in. Though ravenous, Braden couldn’t help but be über-conscious of the princess, or as he preferred to think of her, his subject, seated directly across from him. Even though he couldn’t actually see her, the odd pull he felt toward her was quite strong. He listened for some sort of signal that she’d finished her meal so he could once again bring up the subject of their schedule.

One of his flaws—and to be honest, he was aware he had many—was his absolute devotion to routine, especially these days. After all, maintaining a sort of precise order was the only way he could keep control of his now dark and sightless world. If he was to have a prayer of completing his research in the time the king had allotted, he had to make certain Princess Alisa would consent to more than a mere hour or two a day. Perhaps if she understood that at that rate, the testing would take months rather than weeks, she’d be a little more generous with her precious time.

As if his was worthless.

A light touch on the back of his hand made him start. “Did you enjoy the fish?” the princess asked, her dulcet tone sweet enough to constitute a warning that she was up to something. He didn’t know her well enough to know what, exactly.

Instantly alert, he murmured a polite response. Carefully keeping his posture relaxed, he waited for her to drop the bomb.

“If I am to spend copious amounts of time in your laboratory, then it’s only fair that you return the favor,” she told him. “I have need of an escort to attend several formal affairs with me.”

Sensing her parents listening with interest, he pretended to give her words serious thought. “While I would be honored, of course, are you sure you’ve carefully thought this out? I am unable to see, after all. As such, my usefulness would be quite limited.”

There. Sitting back and folding his arms, he waited for her response. No one, especially not a beautiful princess, wanted to walk around with a blind man on her arm. Now let her try to back out of that one gracefully.

“Don’t worry. I’ll help you,” she said, barely missing a beat. “As long as you know how to dance, I can keep us pointed in the right direction. Other than that, your main duty will be holding my arm and trying to look interested while other people babble inanely to us.”

Surprised, he barely suppressed a snort of laughter. “Sounds like one of a hundred faculty gatherings I have to attend at CU, the university where I occasionally teach.”

“Then you agree to do this?”

Against his better judgment, he found himself nodding. “I’ll be your escort. That is, if you can agree to spend at least four hours in the mornings at my lab.”

Her affirmative reply, edged with amusement, made him duck his head so she wouldn’t see his smile turn into a grin.

Interesting. Something about this princess intrigued him, something beyond the fact that she was an anomaly. Being around her made his wolf restless and made him … what? Curious to know more? Of course. That was why he’d come here, after all.

Yet, in his analytical way, he knew it was more. He liked that she could keep him off balance, something few had ever been able to do despite his recent loss of sight.

Oddly enough, for reasons he’d yet to fathom, the princess was dangerous to his equilibrium. He’d have to try to keep his mouth shut and work as fast as he could. Because of what she was, who she was, he couldn’t risk offending her too badly. The quicker he could conduct his experiments and analyze the data, the better.

The reason why she wanted him to act as his escort escaped him. But he’d do it, if doing so meant she’d consent to spend more time in his research lab. But even there, he had to be careful. Too much time alone with her and he just might pop off and say the wrong thing. Or worse, grab her and plant a hard kiss on that smart-ass mouth of hers.

Shocked at the thought, he shook his head at his own foolishness. That wouldn’t be good on so many levels it boggled his mind.

Still, something about her …

“Penny for them?” the princess asked, startling him out of his thoughts.

While he searched his brain for something safe to say, his wolf half began to stir, inexplicably restless.

“Dr. Streib?” Her voice again, slicing through his thoughts. “Are you all right?”

“Call me Braden.” His response was automatic as he prepared to lie. “I’m just mentally reviewing some of the tests I need to run on you in the morning.”

“I see. Have you finished with your fish?”

It dawned on him that one of the serving staff stood at his elbow, ready to remove his plate. “Yes,” he answered. “It was very good.”

Immediately, someone whisked his plate away.

“I’m particularly looking forward to today’s dessert,” King Leo pronounced.

“Dessert?” Startled, Braden rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m stuffed. I couldn’t possibly eat another—”

A light touch on his hand shocked him into silence.

“It’s his favorite.” The soft warning in Princess Alisa’s voice made his wolf even more restless. “You can at least have a taste, can’t you?”

His mouth had gone dry, so he nodded, hoping he successfully masked his expression. Unfortunately, as though sensing weakness, his internal wolf chose that moment to go on the offensive, fighting to be allowed to surface, to break free.

Damn. Braden did a quick mental calculation. How long had it been exactly since he’d last changed?

After a quick internal struggle, he wrestled his beast back under control, all the while keeping his head down so the Teslinko royal family wouldn’t know.

He usually was more careful. Changing often enough to keep his wolf satisfied. This level of discord had never happened to him before. His wolf felt nearly out of control. Why this furious need? Why now? Was it them? Or her? He suspected the latter, though it made no sense. Why would being around this woman affect his beast in such a visceral and urgent way?

As scientist, he desperately deduced that one reason had to be simply because being blind, he experienced everything more sharply in his lupine form. He didn’t miss his vision nearly as much as he did while human. With wolves, scent was the dominant sense. Scent told him almost everything, as much as vision did for humans.

And Princess Alisa smelled perfect. Feminine and flowers and vanilla, all in one.

Hellhounds, this wasn’t good. Counting back, he tried to calculate how long it had been since he’d changed. Ruefully, he acknowledged that too much time had passed. He’d been so occupied with his research and securing the permission of King Leo and Queen Ionna, and then traveling here and getting settled in, that he’d managed to completely ignore his own needs. His own wolf’s needs.

He needed to change. As soon as humanly possible. Perhaps, since he wasn’t going to work with the princess today, this afternoon would be a good time to find a secluded, wooded place to shape-shift and let his caged wolf run free.

Even thinking about this brought his wolf back, roaring to life. The beast inside him rushed the invisible barrier, testing the mental bounds Braden had imposed.

Finishing the fight, he raised his head, suddenly aware of the yawning silence. No doubt they were all staring at him, wondering if he’d completely lost his mind.

“Dr. Streib?” Queen Ionna asked gently. “Are you all right? You haven’t even touched your dessert.”

Forcing a shaky smile, he turned in the direction of her voice. “Yes, I am. My apologies. I was thinking of all that must be done. I am very eager to begin.”

On his other side, Princess Alisa made an odd noise in the back of her throat. “Try your cake,” she said, her tone perfectly level. “You do not wish to disrespect the king, now, do you?”

Put that way, what could he do? Fumbling for his fork, he finally located it and managed to scoop up some of the king’s favorite dessert. Not sure what to expect, he was surprised to find it melted on his tongue. In addition to chocolate, he tasted peanut butter and a hint of something else. Cinnamon. And a lot of sugar. A whole lot of sugar. So much that he felt vaguely queasy.

“Excellent,” he lied, taking a second bite and manfully choking it down.

“I told you.” King Leo sounded pleased. “There is a reason this is my number one sweet.”

Nodding, Braden continued to eat, shoveling the cake into his mouth as quickly as he could while still having some sort of table manners.

“Take it easy, dear,” Queen Ionna admonished. “You’ll choke if you continue to eat so fast.”

Polishing off what felt like the last bite, he swallowed, before taking a large gulp of his now lukewarm coffee. “Very good. I’m sorry if I seem to be rushing, but I have much to do to get ready to begin testing the princess tomorrow. If you’ll—”

“Our daughter is eager to begin as well,” King Leo interrupted before Braden could get out the words excuse me. “Isn’t that right, Alisa?”

“Of course,” she said, sounding about as sincere as he felt when forcing down the sickeningly sweet cake. “Where is your laboratory? I will meet you there in the morning.”

Braden took his time answering, figuring King Leo would interrupt and tell her the rest of it. Not only had the royal family allowed him the rare privilege of analyzing their youngest daughter, but they had set up a fully functional laboratory down the hall from his bedroom. This was on the same floor as hers, though in a completely different wing.

But neither the king nor the queen spoke. Apparently, they were leaving it to him to relay the news.

“Well?” she repeated, her rich voice curious and mildly exasperated, all at once. Once again, just the sound of her had the same effect on him, like a jolt of raw energy sending his wolf into a frenzy.

Again, damn it. Gritting his teeth, he battled back his other half. This had not happened since he’d been a teenager, full of raging hormones. It took him a moment to get his beast under control, luckily. Though this time, he lost more ground more quickly. If the beast kept fighting him, he’d have to do something quickly or there’d be a major embarrassing incident. He could only imagine that it’d be in extremely poor form to shape-shift in the palace while lunching with Pack royalty.

He had to get a grip on this thing, whatever it was. Taking a deep breath, he wondered how much longer he’d have to wait to manage to politely excuse himself.

“Your laboratory, Dr. Streib?” Princess Alisa repeated, speaking slowly as though she now thought him a simpleton. “I asked you where I might find it.”

Lifting his chin, Braden explained the situation in a few short sentences. “My understanding is that I am actually working on the same floor where you also reside.”

“At the opposite end,” King Leo put in. “This is a very large palace, Dr. Streib. Your living quarters and your laboratory are in the west wing. Princess Alisa occupies most of the east.”

Thankfully, the princess didn’t comment. Braden wasn’t sure he could take another assault of her voice on his wolf self. Now if he could just get out of there until he got his beast under control.

“I’m glad we got that settled,” King Leo said, amusement warring with preoccupation in his voice. “We have also provided you with an assistant, Dr. Streib. Katya will be there to help you first thing in the morning.”

“Thank you,” Braden said, pleasantly surprised.

“You are most welcome.” The king heaved a satisfied sigh. “Now, if you two will excuse us, the queen and I will leave you to finish your discussion. Come, my dear.”

Braden pushed to his feet as well, standing politely as the King and Queen of Teslinko exited the room. When he finally took his seat again, he sensed the princess studying him. He wanted nothing more than to bolt, but knew he had to do something to satisfy his wolf.

He had no choice but to enlist her help. He needed to change badly and he had no idea where to go.

The servers offered more coffee. They both accepted, waiting while the beverage was poured.

She sighed. “You are different than I would have expected.”

If she wanted to make polite small talk, he thought he could manage, as long as he kept a death grip on his wolf. “How so?”

“Well,” she mused, “despite your generally ruffled and disheveled appearance, you are actually a very attractive man.”

Heat suffused him, which both infuriated and intrigued him. “Though a bit backhanded, I’ll accept the compliment.”

She laughed, a low and musical sound that sent a heated shiver through him. He felt his grip on his wolf slipping and frowned, concentrating on regaining control. “Now it’s your turn,” she said, a smile making her voice light.

“My turn?”

“To compliment me.”

Was she flirting with him? He could think of no reason why someone like her would do so other than to mock him. But why? They were alone. Did she mock him for her own amusement? Considering he knew absolutely nothing about her personally, such a thing was entirely possible.

Taking a deep breath, he considered his options. Even when he’d been able to see, flirting had not been his strong suit. Fleeing would not only be cowardly, but slow and ungainly since he was unfamiliar with the path he’d need to take. In reality, he knew he could withstand much from her, considering how badly he needed her for his research.

Rapidly searching for a vapid, non-offensive bit of frippery, he settled on the first thing that came to mind. “You have a sensuous voice and a beautiful laugh.”

The instant the words left his mouth, he knew he’d made a huge mistake. Too personal and too true. Not at all the purpose of light, playful flirtation. He should know this—intellectually, he did. But because he sucked at flirting, abhorred it in fact, he’d given her truth when she wanted falsehood.

As if she knew this—of course she did—she inhaled sharply. Any moment now, he suspected she’d let fly with a bit of scathing commentary, merely to point out what kind of social pariah he was. And if she did, he knew he wouldn’t be able to rein himself in. He’d respond in kind. While he wasn’t good at flirting, he was excellent with cutting retorts.

Which would only make things worse between them. He needed to get along with her if he wanted her cooperation for his experiments.

His tenuous grip on his wolf slipped. Out of his depth, he took the only option that made sense. Leaving before he either said something truly awful or worse, before his wolf broke free and he shape-shifted right there in the dining room of the royal palace.

Pushing to his feet, he murmured a quick excuse and headed out. She made no move to help him, despite the fact that he’d forgotten his cane.

Halfway in his struggle toward the door, he turned in her general direction. “Please come see me in the morning in my laboratory. I’m eager to begin my work.”

Without waiting for her to answer, he left the room, cursing his social ineptitude and cursing the fact that he hadn’t managed to ask her to assist him in finding a place to change.

Once again, it appeared he was on his own. He and his wolf, both blind, sharing the same, desperate need.

Chapter 3

Strange man. Watching as he struggled to get to his feet and leave as quickly as he could with his head up and his dignity intact, Alisa wondered why the doctor had so much difficulty engaging in what she considered normal small talk between a man and a woman.

He’d been affronted and offended, acting as if she’d insulted him when in fact she’d meant no harm. Honestly, she didn’t know any other way to converse with a man who wasn’t either family or in her employ. Truth be told, she’d always hated it. Growing up watching her older sisters, Alisa had known she wasn’t beautiful or sensual or even very interesting. Still, she’d known what had been expected of her and so she behaved accordingly. Young or old, married or single, they flirted and she flirted back. It meant absolutely nothing. It was all a game and everyone did it.

Everyone, that is, except Dr. Braden Streib.

When he almost walked into the doorframe instead of through the door, she rose from her seat to go to him and offer her assistance, but he corrected himself at the last moment. Which was good, because she knew he probably wouldn’t welcome her help in any way.

Strike the probably. He would not want her assistance at anything other than his research tests.

Noted. Not only was he arrogant, but stubborn and rude to boot. One of those intellectual types who looked down on people who weren’t.

Which stung, because he apparently hadn’t bothered to learn anything about her other than her ability to go a long time without shifting. She wasn’t the stereotypical fairy tale type of princess, spending her days shopping and partying. Instead, she’d taken stock of her assets and realized early on that her intelligence would get her much farther than her looks. So she’d gone to university, earning both her bachelor’s and her master’s in short time. She was currently on track to work on her doctorate.

Few people knew that about her as it was something she took care to keep hidden from the world. The last thing she wanted was paparazzi following her around campus with cameras. She enjoyed blending in, loving a place where she wasn’t judged in the shadows of her two sisters’ amazing looks.

Once again, someone wanted to put her in the spotlight and highlight her differences.

Dr. Streib claimed to have researched her. Evidently, he’d only checked into her medical history, which seemed oddly shortsighted. For all he knew, her mental ability could have something to do with the way she needed to change less often than others. If anything, she would have expected a researcher of his caliber to be more thorough.

So he thought her a dim-witted party girl. Fine. Lots of people—those that didn’t really know her—did. One more shouldn’t have bothered her, but it did, oddly enough.

She’d long ago stopped wishing she was prettier. With a blind man, looks wouldn’t matter. If he’d been different, more approachable, they could have conversed in a purely intellectual manner. She would have enjoyed that.

Obviously, that wasn’t meant to be.

She’d have to figure out another way to deal with him. Too bad. This had been the first time in a long time that she’d actually been more than mildly interested in a man.

As for his research, she knew beyond a doubt that her blood, body or cells didn’t contain some magical, mystical difference that would give him the secret to her ability to remain human for long periods of time. It was just who she was, a little bit of extra she’d gotten since she’d clearly been passed over in the beauty department.

With a small shrug, she rose and smoothed down her dress. They’d have to figure out a way to get along. After all, they’d be spending a lot of time together in his laboratory—more than she’d intended or imagined, if he had his way. Of course, she didn’t plan on working with him for six hours a day, every single day. She had her volunteer work and her education, as well as her horses and her painting.

Out in the hallway, she took a leisurely stroll to the staircase, wincing as she imagined him trying to navigate the labyrinth that was the palace. She should have helped him, regardless of his antagonism, as she would have assisted any guest. In the future, she resolved that she would. No matter what he said, she wouldn’t let him get to her.

She would help him do his experiments and tests and hopefully, when he found nothing, he’d accept that with good grace and go back to America where he belonged.

There. Problem solved. She’d do her duty, her father would be happy, and Dr. Streib would go away knowing he’d tried. Now she could relax and try to go about completing her duties for the afternoon.

Though she bustled around the palace on various errands, Dr. Streib was conspicuously absent the rest of the day. He didn’t attend the evening meal and when she inquired, she learned he’d chosen to eat alone in his room.

Since her parents were entertaining friends with an elaborate formal dinner and her brother had gone out on one of his numerous dates, Alisa also ate alone. This happened more frequently than not, as she preferred quiet evenings at home with a good book to going out on the town partying with a group of people she had to pretend were her friends.

As usual, that night she took her meal in a small table in the kitchen. The ginger chicken with black beans was tasty and she ate slowly while she read.

Oddly enough, though normally she relished the peace and quiet, this night she found she would have welcomed company. Not just any company, but Dr. Streib’s. For some unfathomable reason, she realized she found their verbal sparring invigorating.

After she’d finished her meal, she grabbed a pot of fresh tea and headed up to her room to read. Aware she had to be at the laboratory early, she got ready for bed, crawling beneath the covers right as her clock chimed midnight. She had a touch of a headache, though she felt too tired to get back out of her bed and search for a pain reliever.

If she had any dreams, she didn’t remember them.

The next morning she woke to bright sunshine and birdsong. Testing her head, she found the headache had retreated. Good. Stretching, she tried to decide what she’d do that afternoon. Normally on a day like this, she’d go for a horseback ride or a long walk with her dogs. Since she knew she’d be confined to the house helping Dr. Streib with his pointless research in the morning, maybe she’d do some of her favorite activities that afternoon.

Stretching, she reluctantly climbed from her supersoft bed and padded across the room to the shower. She elected not to call in any of her numerous assistants, preferring to perform her late morning preparations in privacy. She’d long ago learned that her day went better if she kept the fussing and pampering to a minimum. Of course, if there was a special event, she used all the help at her disposal. But for day-to-day, routine life, she preferred to do as much as possible on her own.

Ninety minutes later, hair scooped back in a jaunty ponytail and minimal makeup skillfully applied, she wandered out into the hallway dressed in jeans and boots and a soft cashmere sweater. Despite the bright sunshine, the weather forecasters had predicted a cold front coming in from the mountains later that day and she wanted to be ready.

A quick glance at her watch showed it was nearly noon. She’d overslept. Next time, she’d be sure and set an alarm. After having an egg-white omelet for a late breakfast, she took her second cup of coffee with her as she made her way to Dr. Streib’s laboratory. She wasn’t sure what exactly to expect, but she doubted any of it would be fun.

Focusing intently on listening to any sound from the hall outside the room he’d been given to use as a laboratory, Braden tamped down his rising irritation and impatience. Where was the princess? He’d asked her to be here at eight and he’d of course arrived early, grabbing some kind of pastry from the kitchen and asking for a pot of coffee to be sent to his room.

He tapped his wrist, grimacing as his audible watch stated the time. Princess Alisa was nearly four hours late. At this rate, it would be lunchtime and the entire castle would come to a grinding halt so everyone could eat some sort of huge meal.

Had she meant to stand him up? Was the no-show her way of quietly rebelling against her father’s dictate that she submit to testing?

Cursing under his breath, he went over placement of his equipment for the six or seventh time. The first things he’d planned to do would all be routine medical tests. An EKG, some blood work and a urinalysis. The king had even, at no doubt great expense, brought in an MRI machine and a CT scanner and set them up in separate rooms.

He planned to do everything both to her and to himself, so he could use his results as baseline.

When he’d finished, all of the data would be analyzed and digitally encrypted in his computer. Voice recognition software would enable him to dictate and he had an audio program in place to keep him informed of the results.

He’d already run his own panel of tests. The only thing missing was his subject. Princess Alisa herself.

He cursed again. Virulently. If he’d been able to see, he would stride down the hall and locate her himself, bringing her back to the lab posthaste. As it was, without sight he couldn’t actually stride, though he could do some damage with his cane if he felt so inclined.

His watch again announced the hour. Straight up and down noon. They should have gotten started hours ago. Hours. If his subject wasn’t royalty, she’d be in for a tongue-lashing when she finally showed up. Assuming she did show up.

He began to pace the length of the small room, having predetermined there were no obstacles to trip over. Despite what pre-conceived notions he might have had of spoiled, selfish princesses, he truly hadn’t expected this.

To her, this might be all fun and games. Something she had to do to keep her father happy so he wouldn’t cut her off. But to Braden, this was more. This was his life’s work, something that could make a difference as much as his work in surgery had. Discovering a cure for the madness that plagued those who didn’t change often enough would be epic. Legendary.

The implication was unfathomable. He could only imagine how such knowledge would broaden the horizons for so many. Pack members would be able to serve in the navy, travel on submarines and ships. They could work on oil rigs and drilling platforms, and other places where it was impossible to change.

If he could discover the secret. He was so close. And if he actually believed in anything as esoteric as gut feelings, he’d say that he could feel it.

Princess Alisa held the key. He knew this with unshakable certainty. For this reason he had jumped through diplomatic hoops, secured the necessary permissions and gathered supplies.

Now he’d cleared all the hurdles and made the journey to Teslinko. The ordeal had taken far too long to come to fruition. Now, the time had finally come to begin.

Then this. His subject hadn’t shown up. She knew the key lay with her and didn’t much care. A pampered princess from some obscure European country. No doubt she’d like nothing better than to dismiss him and stroll away, laughing all the while.

Which she couldn’t do. He wouldn’t let her. He’d go back to King Leo if necessary. Princess Alisa was vital to his research, the sole living shifter who could go six months to a year without changing shape and—most importantly—without going mad. Such a thing was virtually unheard of, except in the dusty old legends of their kind.

Consumed by his thoughts and his pacing, he almost missed the sound. There. High heels tapping on marble. Princess Alisa had finally deigned to grace him with her presence.

Braden clenched his jaw, steeling himself for her arrival. When she entered the room, his wolf sat up and took notice. He could have sworn the atmospheric pressure changed, or something else completely unscientific. Either way, it made him uncomfortable and he didn’t like it one bit.

He busied himself with pretending not to notice her arrival and rechecking his equipment.

“Hello? Earth to Doctor.” A trace of amusement colored her husky voice.

He started, still playing her game, all the while suppressing the urge to lash out with some comment about the time. “Ah, Princess Alisa. I didn’t hear you arrive.”

“Obviously,” she drawled. “Well, I’m here. I’d like to get this over with as quickly as possible. Shall we get started?”

He couldn’t help it—he saw red. Over with as quickly as possible? They could have been halfway done with that morning’s tests if she’d actually showed up when she’d agreed to. This—and more, in fact all the remonstrations he wanted to say—simmered right at the tip of his tongue.

Rather then spewing them, he swallowed hard, taking a deep breath, trying to compose himself. If he gave in to his temper, he’d make things even more difficult.

He wasn’t used to exercising such restraint.

His watch chose that time to speak the hour. Twelve-fifteen. More time wasted. Perfect.

And then his stomach growled. Loudly.

“Have you had your lunch?” he managed, hoping there was the smallest semblance of civility in his voice.

“Lunch?” Again she laughed. “I’m not hungry. Since I overslept, I barely just finished my breakfast.”

Which would explain why she was only now showing up. She must have slept in. Of course she’d slept in.

If she’d been a graduate student at CU, he would have given her a severe tongue-lashing. Instead, he fiddled with the EKG machine, aware she’d have no idea that he wasn’t resetting it or something.

Restraint, he told himself. Restraint. Difficult to maintain when his agitation had stirred up his wolf even more, making the beast restless and angry.

“I ate breakfast hours ago,” he said, wondering if she’d take the hint.

“Yes, you mentioned you were an early riser.”

When her cheerful comment got no response, she moved closer, bringing with her that fresh fragrance of peaches and vanilla. “Are you all right, Dr. Streib? You sound sort of … strangled.”

Perceptive, wasn’t she? To a point, that is.

“I’m fine.” He ground out the words. “Let’s get you hooked up to this machine.” Pointing to a curtained-off area in the corner, he worked hard at keeping his voice level and emotionless. “You can change there. Put on the robe, making sure it opens to the back. My assistant will hook you up to the electrodes.”

“Your assistant?” She sounded skeptical. “We’re alone in this room. I see no helper.”

Jaw aching from clenching it, he counted to three for patience. “That’s because I sent her to have lunch. She was hungry.” After they’d waited nearly four hours for the princess to put in an appearance.

“I see.” She was on the move, her voice drifting to him from around the room. “What did my mother say her name was?”

“Katya.” He hoped she wasn’t messing with any of his equipment. “Your parents were kind to offer her. I believe her normal duties are as personal assistant to the queen.”

“Ah, okay.” Now she spoke from his left. “I know her. And how long do you think it will be until she returns?”

“Not long. She should be back any minute now.” He hoped. “She’ll need a urine sample and then will draw some blood.”

She made a sound, no doubt meant to convey distaste, but since he couldn’t see her expression, he couldn’t be positive.

“What about you? What will you do while I have this test?”

“I’ll be eating.” Using his cane to guide him, he stomped toward the door, needing to escape her before his anger boiled over. “I’m hungry. As I said, some of us ate breakfast hours ago. In the morning, when most people do.”

Unable to resist that parting shot, he shook his head. Hopefully he could get his temper under control so that when he returned, he could participate in the experiments himself without thoroughly pissing her off.

He could always hope. Maybe food would do much to calm him down.

He passed Katya the personal-assistant-turned-research-assistant as he rounded the first corner. “The princess is waiting for you,” he told her. “I’ll be back after I grab some lunch.”

“Are you sure I should do this on my own?” Katya asked, a hint of desperation in her heavily accented voice. “I’ve never done this before and I’m afraid I’ll do something wrong.”

Good Lord, even she didn’t want to be alone with Princess Prima Donna. “You’ll be fine,” he said.

“Before I go to the lab, I think you will need my help?” Katya persisted. “I can show you the way to the dining room. It is a very long walk, though it is on the same floor.”

“I’ll be all right.” He shook his head. “Don’t keep your princess waiting. Please do the EKG like I showed you. Also, see if she will give you a sample for the urinalysis, would you?”

Without waiting for her answer, he moved off in the right direction, at least judging by the scent of food. He’d gotten quite good at following his nose.

After he’d eaten, he got to his feet and made his way slowly back to the lab, dreading the next confrontation.

At least Katya should have finished the preliminary tests by now and hopefully she’d managed to coax the princess into cooperating. Since they needed to make up for the time lost that morning, if he had anything to say about it, the princess would be spending the entire afternoon in his lab. Luckily for him, his wolf appeared to be sleeping.

“Here he is,” Katya said immediately when he entered the room.

“Did you enjoy the meal?” the princess asked, without inflection.

“Very much.” He wondered if Alisa was smiling or frowning, then decided he didn’t really care. Instead, he directed his next question at his assistant. “Katya, have you run all the tests?”

“Yes, Doctor. The computer has done all the analysis and the report is ready for you to hear.”

“Hear?” Princess Alisa chimed in. She actually sounded interested, which surprised him.

“I have a computer program that reads to me, since I obviously can’t read myself. It assimilates all the data, computes a result and then relays that result to me.” He inclined his head, dismissing his assistant. “Katya, thanks for your help. I won’t need anything else from you today. You can leave now.”

He got a sense of the other woman curtsying to him, which almost made him smile. His imagination apparently had become particularly vivid since arriving here in Teslinko. He’d actually started seeing things despite having no way of knowing if they were actually happening. This blindness thing was messing with his mind. Not good for a scientist. Not good at all.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Katya said, moving past him so quickly he felt the disturbance in the air.

Leaving him alone with the high and mighty one. Who was no doubt glaring at him this very instant. A second later, he scoffed at himself. He usually went with facts, not suppositions.

“I’m glad she’s gone,” Alisa finally said, surprising him. “I don’t like her.”

“Why not?” he asked, curious despite himself.

“Good question.” Silence while she appeared to be musing over her answer. “I don’t know. I don’t like her energy. She doesn’t give me a good feeling.”

Energy. Feeling. Next she’d be talking about vibes. Par for the course. He wouldn’t be surprised if she mentioned she studied astrology or the healing powers of crystals. After all, how else could a bored and rich princess amuse herself?

Rather than comment, Braden concentrated on his equipment. Fumbling on the tabletop—he hated fumbling—until he located his headphones, he flashed an utterly fake smile in her general direction before he slipped them on and pressed the play button.

Listening while the mechanical voice relayed data, he frowned. Nothing out of the ordinary. The complete blood panel and the urinalysis contained nothing different or abnormal, nothing that wasn’t common to every other shifter on the planet. Not one single blasted thing. Except for blood type, his results and hers were exactly alike.

How could this be? Though he certainly hadn’t expected this to be easy, there had to be at least one thing out of place, one anomaly. Something. Anything.

The machine finished spitting out data and went silent. Had he missed something? He punched the replay button, and the audio stream started again, repeating the same test results.

A moment later, her arm brushed his as she reached around him and clicked the machine off, cutting the mechanical voice off mid-syllable.

His wolf came instantly awake.

Slowly, he removed his headphones, pushing back a surge of justifiable anger. “Why did you do that?”

“Surely you don’t expect me to sit here and twiddle my thumbs while you listen to music or whatever,” she drawled. “A little conversation would help pass the time.”

Calling on his rapidly dissipating patience, he shook his head. “Princess, we aren’t here for social hour. This is work, plain and simple. Tests were run, and I need to listen to the results.”

“But I’d like to hear them, too,” she protested. “Play them out loud. You don’t have to wear the headphones.”

For the love of … He cleared his throat. “You wouldn’t understand them if you heard them. Next time, why don’t you bring a book or something to amuse yourself.”

Her sharp intake of breath told him she hadn’t taken his comment favorably. “How do you know I won’t understand? You might be surprised.”

“I doubt it.” Again the sharp hiss of breath. His wolf had begun pacing, telling him he faced another epic battle if he didn’t wrap this up and find a place to change.

“I’m not going to argue with you,” she began.

“Good. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to review the data one more time.” He reached for the audio button and listened again as the robotic voice replayed the numbers. This time, she did not interrupt.

Chapter 4

Finally, after listening for the third time, he clicked it off and removed his headphones. “No answers,” he said with a sigh, wondering if she was still there. “Not a single, solitary clue.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “But do not ever do that to me again.”

Honestly surprised, he cocked his head. “Do what to you again?”

“Shut me out.” A thin thread of anger made her melodic voice vibrate. “I’ll let you have a pass this one time, but if you want me to be part of this, you’ve got to make me a full part. I need to listen in. I’m not just a lab rat.”

With his wolf on full alert, he considered her words. For the first time he wondered if he might have a completely wrong picture of her. Maybe there was more to this princess than met the eye. Why else would she even care what he found out?

“My apologies.” Executing a half bow, hoping that such an old-fashioned gesture would please her, he managed a smile, even as he struggled to keep his wolf subdued. “You’re right, of course. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

“Thank you.” Rather than gloat, she sounded relieved. “I’ve been tested before, you know. There’s nothing abnormal about me. My parents have already consulted the foremost medical authorities in Teslinko and also in Rome.”

“So I’ve been told.” If she wanted to participate, then she needed to know the truth. “But those other doctors were looking for an illness, some hint of madness. I’m looking for something else entirely.”

“Like what?”

How could he explain, when he could hardly articulate what he knew even inside his own head? “As unscientific as it sounds, I’m trying to find the unthinkable. Magic that actually can be explained by science.”

“Very poetic,” she commented, pleasure thrumming in her tone. “I like that.”

His wolf stirred again, restless, eager to run. Slamming the lid back down on the place in his mind where his wolf-self resided, he took a moment to compose himself before answering. “Thank you, I guess.”

“You’re welcome.”

He cleared his throat, uncertain how to respond. “Let me check my notes one last time,” he said evenly, putting the discussion back where it belonged. Business. “Give me a moment, then we’ll start the next round of tests.”

To his surprise, she left him alone while he recalibrated his machines and readied his slides. This lasted all of five minutes.

“How did you lose your vision?” she asked, her voice an interesting combination of determined and hesitant. “I heard that you were involved in an accident. Is that true?”

Braden set down a slide and considered. Though normally he disliked talking about what had happened, he figured he owed her an explanation. After all, he’d already given one to the king.

“Yes, though I suspect it was no accident. I’d completed my surgery for the day and stopped by my lab at the university to retrieve some materials before giving a lecture.”

He took a deep breath, seeing it all again inside his head. “A few minutes after I arrived, there was an explosion in my lab. A fire. I was injured, badly burned but not incinerated since the explosion knocked me out of the lab itself. They found me unconscious in the parking lot.”

“You’re lucky you weren’t killed.”

With a nod, he acknowledged the truth of her words. “So they said. I had burns, a concussion and a few broken bones as well. They healed, but my vision did not come back.”

When she spoke again, her voice was low and serious. “Since you are Halfling, I know you don’t heal as quickly as a full shifter, but why have you not visited the Healer? I looked on a map and Texas is not all that far from Colorado.”

“I did visit her,” he said reluctantly. “Her name is Samantha. She’s a very nice woman and really tried to help.”

“And?”

“She put her hands on me, did whatever foolishness she apparently does. It didn’t work.”

She gasped. “I’ve never heard of a Healer failing.”

“Neither had she.” He shrugged. “She was shocked. She said there was no reason for me not to see.”

She’d also told him his blindness was all in his head and that she thought he felt he needed to make retribution for something. More bullcrap. Of course Samantha hadn’t been able to heal him, despite her much-touted successes with other Halflings.

But he was no ordinary Halfling. He was a doctor, a scientist. And, in the history of both mankind and Pack, snake charmers were never successful around those that really questioned.

He didn’t say those thoughts out loud. In the past, whenever he’d dared to voice them, the reactions had ranged from anger to derision. At him, rather than the Healer.

A brief, uncomfortable silence fell, during which he refused to fidget or otherwise reveal how uneasy this line of conversation made him feel. Instead, he went back to reviewing his notes, listening as the mechanical voice replayed them for the fourth time. This time, he eschewed the headphones and played them out loud so that she could hear, too.

Listening with him, she waited only a few moments before interrupting. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

With a sigh, he pushed Pause, then clicked the machine off. Why not? He wasn’t getting anywhere with these test results. “Another one?”

“Yes.” She must have leaned closer, because he caught a whisper of her unique scent. She smelled feminine and delicious, making his head spin and sending his wolf into bouts of pacing again.

“How did you manage to talk my parents into agreeing with this nonsense?”

He lifted his chin, wishing he could see her expression. “Your parents are honestly worried about you,” he told her. “After all, your ability to remain in the human form for so long is abnormal. Since this usually brings about madness, they didn’t want you to go insane.”

“Always? You said usually. Does it always bring about madness? Surely someone, somewhere has done this without going crazy?”

Aware that she—unless she’d been living under a rock—already knew the answer, he nodded. “Without exception, not changing often enough has always meant madness. Until now, until you. That’s why you’re such a puzzle.”

“In that case, let me give you another aspect to look at.” She sounded triumphant, as though he’d played right into her no doubt elegant and perfectly manicured hands. “How do you know I’m not already mad?”

After a second of startled silence, during which he imagined the horrified faces of her worried parents, he couldn’t help it, he threw back his head and laughed. Long and robustly and full of genuine amusement. Part of him was amazed. He hadn’t laughed like that since the explosion.

“I’m glad you find me humorous,” she finally said, her voice an interesting combination of frosty and hurt. “It was a serious question.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Crossing his arms, he tilted his head in her direction. She intrigued him, with all her apparent contradictions.

“What do you mean?”

“You know you’re not crazy. Therefore, your question was completely rhetorical. Though I do promise if you have real questions, ones that actually pertain to my work, I’ll do my best to answer them.”

She muttered something that sounded like a curse, and then he heard the scraping sound of her pushing back her chair. Murmuring her apologies in a falsely sincere voice, she hurried off without another word to him, her high heels clicking on the floors.

Rubbing his chin, he listened to her go. Damn. Despite his best efforts—and what he considered success in keeping himself reined in—he’d still managed to anger Princess Alisa, cutting short his already inadequate time to work with her.

For maybe the fifteenth time, he wished he’d been able to locate another subject. He’d certainly searched hard enough. But every single time he’d thought he actually might have found someone, when he’d checked them out he’d found their story to be false.

In that regard, he’d spoken the truth to the princess. Not changing often enough meant madness for shifters, whether full or Halfling. Every single time.

Until now. He had verification from her parents, her teachers, her friends and her doctors. Princess Alisa was the lone exception known in the entire world. And for that reason alone, she was vital to his research.

But working with her wasn’t going to be easy. Not with the way his wolf reacted to her. If not for the possible magnitude of the reward to his kind once he was proven right, he knew damn good and well that he’d already have decided this was too much trouble and hightailed it out of this tiny European country and back home to Boulder, Colorado, to work on something else. Hounds knew he had plenty of interesting projects on the back burner.

Yet none of them were vital. Not like this. Why, if he were to discover a way for any shifter to maintain their human form longer than a few weeks, then a Pack astronaut could actually go to the space station. Or on a ship out to sea without having to be confined to a tiny cabin to shift in misery and unhappiness. A wolf that couldn’t hunt and roam wasn’t pleasant to deal with. To say the least.

Rolling his shoulders, he smiled ruefully. No matter how unpleasant the chore might be, he must figure out a way to work with Princess Alisa and to make it as painless as possible. For both of them.

The doctor was a bore. Eyeing him, shaggy black head bent over his machine, she couldn’t figure out what it was about him that was different. But he was. He infuriated her, enraged her, and made her wolf restless and uneasy.

He also made her feel alive.

Which made no sense. Alisa had always had an analytical mind. Though she’d had her share of crushes when she was younger and affairs through college, without exception she’d been able to dispassionately examine every single one. She’d known why she’d been attracted to Damian (sex appeal), or Theo (rakish charm), or Ian (blond good looks combined with a brilliant, acerbic mind). In the past, she’d chosen male companions for their ability to make her laugh, or because they had an interesting hobby (like Christoff with his hang gliding). She’d had no delusions at all why they wanted to be with her—she was the proverbial brass ring, bringing with her a title and riches, despite her dismaying lack of beauty.

Dr. Streib cared little for either the money or the title.

So despite being aware of her attraction to Dr. Braden Streib, she was fully cognizant of the exact reasons why she shouldn’t be even remotely interested in the man.

One, he was not the usual type of man she attracted. He was rough-hewn rather than polished, disheveled rather than neat, his craggy features were compelling enough to warrant a second look, but no more than that.

Second, his personality left much to be desired. He was rude, not charming or deliberately sexy, and apparently the man had absolutely no sense of humor.

He was brilliant, true. But intelligence by itself made a cold bedfellow.

The only good thing she could say—if one were to consider this good—was that her wolf had the hots for his wolf. It was true. Her beast wanted to do the nasty with his.

This alone was reason enough for her to sit up and take notice. In all her relationships, her wolf side had affected bored disinterest at best.

Now, though, for the first time since childhood, her wolf refused to be contained, pacing and whining and snarling. Wanting out.

It grew worse every time she was around him. This afternoon in his laboratory, while verbally taunting him, keeping her wolf contained had required so much effort that she’d finally had to leave the room. Which she’d hated, since doing so felt so much like retreating and Alisa never retreated.

Perhaps she should give in, let her wolf win just once, and suggest that the good doctor and she find a place and shape-shift together. Later, in the normal rush of arousal that always accompanied the change back to human, they could make love with abandon. No strings, no messy emotions, no ties.

Even as the thought flashed into her mind, her long-suffering beast went wild with joy. Definitely something to consider. Taking a deep breath, she did an abrupt about-face and headed back to the lab. Because, after all, Alisa never retreated from a challenge.

Even with the sound of her high heels announcing her return, Braden sensed her presence the instant she stepped into the room, though he didn’t acknowledge her.

“I’m back,” she finally said loudly, as though he’d lost his hearing as well as his sight. Of course, to be fair, he was wearing headphones.

Still, he didn’t immediately answer, grateful for the distraction of his computer program that relayed information from the sensitive sensors on his fingertips to the auditory program playing in his headset.

Though she had no way of knowing, he hadn’t yet turned the audio portion on yet. In fact, he’d been debating the wisdom of even bothering to do so. After all, how many times could he listen to the same information?

“Hello?” Again the heels clicking on the hard floor. Tap, tap, tap as she crossed the room to stand near him. Though he couldn’t see her, even with his limited human olfactory senses he could smell her. Absently he made a mental note to find out what brand of perfume she wore and have it analyzed—the stuff smelled absolutely wonderful. From this day forward, he’d be unable to smell vanilla and peaches without thinking of her.

“Good afternoon,” he said, removing the headphones and forcing a smile all at the same time. “I’m glad you decided to come back. How are you feeling now?”

“Better,” she answered, then took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I left earlier. Nature called.”

Accepting her obvious lie without comment, he gestured toward the area where she could take a seat. “Please, sit. We’ll get started in a moment.”

She didn’t move. Naturally. If he wanted her to sit, he should have insisted she stand.

“Get started on what?” she asked.

“Tests. Nothing you need to concern yourself with. I won’t bore you with the details.”

Again he heard her sharp intake of breath, telling him that once more, albeit unintentionally, he’d offended her.

“I’ll pretend you didn’t say that,” she said.

“Okay.” And he waited, knowing there would be more.

He wasn’t wrong. “How about this?” she asked. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re working on today and what you need from me? I’d like to know the schedule in advance, before we get started.”

“The schedule?” He caught himself wishing he could read her expression, because her voice gave nothing away. If she was taunting him, he couldn’t tell.

“Yes,” she drawled, making him imagine her studying her no doubt perfectly manicured nails. “Surely you’ve planned out the rest of the afternoon’s tests, have you not?”

“Yes.” Sort of. “It’s actually not a strict kind of plan. We’re simply going to run as many tests as we can fit in.”

“How long will each one take?”

“I don’t know. I don’t work that way.”

Still, she persisted. “What kind of tests?”

Focusing on her amazing voice instead of his irritation, he debated how much to tell her. As a socialite whose main concern was no doubt the latest fashion or which party to attend, he didn’t expect her to know much about science. Much? Ha. Change that to anything.

So how many details should he reveal? His research, though complicated, could be simplified, put into layman’s terms that would be easy enough for an average high school student to understand.

But would she even care? Judging from the bored impatience with which she greeted his every statement, he doubted she would. Which meant she only asked in order to annoy him. Fair enough. He refused to give her that much satisfaction.

Instead, he’d give her information.

“We’ll start with your voice. I want to run some sound tests, to check out your pattern of speech. Then I’ll do more blood work and take tissue samples, especially of your hair, skin and even your nails, if you can spare one.”

“My nails?” She sounded surprised rather than offended, interested instead of bored. “I don’t know about that. If I cut one, I have to trim all the others so they’re all the same length. Why do you need them?”

“I’m going to run several tests on your DNA and I want to run the same test on different bodily sources. I’d like to try to isolate the areas where you are different.”

“Different?” She sounded both haughty and … hurt? “There is only one way I’m different. I’m descended from centuries of royalty. My Pack lineage can be traced back to those who made up the first Pack. Beyond that—I’m the same as everyone else.”

Though his research had already turned this information up, hearing the words said out loud made him realize what an incredible opportunity this was. There were very few shifters anymore who could trace their heritage back to the first Pack.

Of course he couldn’t help but wonder if this rare pure blood contributed to her amazing abilities.

And then there was the single anomaly. Both her parents had blond hair and blue eyes, as did her two sisters and one brother. From what he’d read, Alisa was a brunette, with green eyes. Though not common, this was not impossible. Still he had to wonder how her genetic makeup differed from the rest of her family.

“None of your siblings can do what you can do.” He spoke his thoughts out loud.

“No. But still—”

“Then your lineage is irrelevant.”

Her audible gasp made him smile.

“Insulting me isn’t going to help,” she said.

“I wasn’t insulting you. I said irrelevant, not unremarkable. Don’t confuse the two terms.”

After a second, she laughed. “Thank you for clearing that up. By the way, you should do that more often.”

Confused, he cocked his head. “Do what more often? Clear things up for you?”

“No.” She laughed again, the husky sound sending a second shiver through him. “Smile. It becomes you.”

“Oh.” Unsure how to take her words, he returned his attention to fiddling with the microphone, even though his wolf had gone completely and utterly still at the compliment.

Compliment. Hmmph. Pushing away the rush of warmth, he willed himself to concentrate. Nothing but the science and his work mattered. Nothing. Least of all his insane and inappropriate attraction to a spoiled princess.

“Excuse me, Dr. Streib?” Her voice brought him right back to where he didn’t want to be—the present. “You keep zoning out on me while I’m talking. Are you all right?”

“Zoning?” He raised a brow. Sometimes he thought she sounded more like she was from Boulder than he did. “That’s a very American term.”

“True. But then, I went to school with a bunch of American kids.”

“School? You went to an international high school?”

This time her laugh sounded a bit forced. “Not high school. College.”

“You went to college?” He didn’t know why he was so surprised. “Where?”

“California,” she shot back. “And you don’t have to sound so surprised. Many royal families send their children abroad to universities.”

“True, but I thought most of them went to Cambridge or Princeton or Yale.”

“Harvard, MIT, Stanford and John Hopkins were all good schools, but University of California at Berkeley was fifth ranked.”

“In what?”

“Initially, I went for molecular biology.”

“What?” He dropped the microphone. Facing her, he realized his mouth hung open and closed it. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“No.” The smile in her voice spoke volumes. “I’m not kidding. And yes, I graduated. I received both my bachelor’s and my master’s degrees. I have to decide whether to go back in the fall to finish working on my doctorate.”

“In molecular biology?”

She sighed. Loudly. “Yes. Now you see why I wanted explanations about the tests.”

Dumbfounded, he tried to process this information. Obviously, the brief bit of research he’d been given was inadequate. Seriously lacking. He made a mental note to fire that particular research assistant when he got back in the States.

“No offense, Dr. Streib,” she continued, “but time is wasting. We need to move things along here. I do have other duties besides working with you.”

“Call me Braden,” he said without thinking, still feeling a bit foolish.

“Then you can call me Alisa,” she graciously granted. “Now, let’s get started.”

“All right.” He forced himself to focus as she took a seat in his chair. Readying the needle to prick her finger, he considered. Doing such things was difficult while blind, but not completely impossible, as long as he wore gloves and took care not to contaminate the sample. Still, this was too important to take the risk.

“One moment,” he told Alisa, then pressed the button on his console that would summon his assistant.

A moment later, Katya arrived. “Yes, Doctor?”

Explaining what he wanted, he waited while she took the blood samples. When she’d finished, he directed her to place the slides under the multi-faceted microscope for his machine to view and analyze. Though Katya didn’t know, along with Alisa’s were the samples he’d taken of his own blood earlier, for comparison purposes.

Katya did as he directed and pushed the button for the machine to begin to analyze. This process would take several minutes.

“Will there be anything else?” Katya asked.

“That will be it for now,” he told her.

Murmuring something about calling her if he needed her again, Katya left the room, leaving him alone again with Alisa.

As he turned to face her, he braced himself for more questions. He wasn’t wrong.

“Tell me about your work. I’m very curious how you are a neurosurgeon when you cannot see,” she mused. “Or, was that something you only did before the explosion?”

No tiptoeing around for her. This time, her bluntness didn’t surprise him. In fact, after months of colleagues avoiding the issue, he actually welcomed talking about it. And of course, he’d lost the capacity to be wounded shortly after he woke up in a Denver burn unit with his head wrapped in bandages, unable to see.

“I was a surgeon,” he said, careful to keep all traces of bitterness from his voice. “Past tense. Before the explosion, I was an excellent neurosurgeon, working in Denver. One of the top ones, at least among the Pack. Three days a week, I’d operate on someone’s brain, or spine, or peripheral nerves. I also taught medical students and gave some lectures to residents. In my spare time, I did research for the Pack.”

“Spare time? That sounds like you didn’t have much.”

He shrugged. “I did what I could when I could. I was happy. I made good money, so my wife was happy as well.”

“Wife?” A certain watchful stillness came over her voice. “I didn’t know you were married.”

Chapter 5

He forced a smile, trying to swallow. Again he had that awful taste in his mouth, like copper. This happened more and more frequently whenever he tried to relive the past. “Again, past tense. I was married. I’m not now. She left me immediately after the accident, and filed for divorce before the week was over.”

If she had comments on what kind of woman would do such a thing, she didn’t voice them. He supposed he shouldn’t be disappointed.

“I’m sorry,” she said instead, the warmth in her voice making his wolf nudge him playfully.

A simple, heartfelt response. He welcomed it, glad she didn’t ask him a thousand follow-up questions that he had no desire to answer.

Yet. He waited, and still she said nothing else.

Despite that, or maybe because of it, he found himself continuing. “I met Camille—my ex-wife—when I was in residency. She was a nurse, a newly minted RN. Looking back, I think she loved the idea of being married to a doctor. I’m not sure she ever entirely loved me for who I am rather than what I was.”

And when he’d been unable to be her status symbol, when his hope of resuming his career as a top neurosurgeon had disappeared, so had Camille. In reflection, he hadn’t even really been surprised.

When Alisa squeezed his shoulder, he realized how tense he’d gotten and tried to force himself to relax.

“Was your ex Pack, too? Or human?”

“Oh, she was Pack. She was a full-blooded shifter, not a Halfling like me.” And later, when the divorce was under way and he’d dared disagree with something she’d wanted, she’d thrown that up against him, as if his bloodline was something to be ashamed of.

For all he knew, most full-blooded shifters secretly looked down on Halflings. He had no way of knowing.

Raising his head, he debated asking. But Alisa was not only a full-blood, but a princess. Definitely not the right person to answer. And really, what did it matter now? He was what he was. That part of himself he couldn’t change. He had much more pressing issues to worry about.

While lost in his thoughts, to his shock, Alisa got out of her chair and hugged him, letting him know without words that her spirit was nothing like Camille’s. Either that, he thought wryly, or he really was a sap.

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