Chapter 94: 94. Transitioning XI
Maisie
He took me out of the room. His fingers were entwined in mine. I loved his fingers. They were rough and warm and strong.
There were six people in the living room area. Three of my mates stood by the furniture, expressions tense. There was a smaller woman, a human.
Something about her and the little box in her grasp instantly made me feel uncomfortable. I stopped walking. Whatever this was, I didn’t want to go through with it.
Mercer looked back at where I’d hidden behind his back, my foot stepping over the other slightly. He cupped my jaw. "It’s okay. It’ll only be for a few minutes."
Something in the back of my mind wriggled at the promise. I should’ve remembered all they ever did was lie to me.
Instead, I nodded, taking the last few steps into the living room. I noticed there was another man standing beside her. He was dressed in a practical blacksuit and held a small black briefcase to his side. I thought he looked like an attorney.
He cleared his throat. "I’ll be... uh... outside."
Mercer had me sit against the couch. I didn’t know why, but I was trembling. I looked across to where Soren, Quinlan and Jericho stood.
Jericho looked pale and wouldn’t meet my gaze. Soren looked stoic. Quinlan looked irritated. Mercer, who stood behind me looked worried.
The woman set her box on the table and took out a pair of white gloves, stretching them over her fingers with a cold, mechanical expression. "You may lay back, princess. Examining your cervix won’t take long."
My body seized.
The heat in my blood ebbed and for all the raging lust I had in me, I knew I didn’t want this woman anywhere near me.
Jericho had moved at some point and he was peering down at the human woman with a very scary expression. "What did I say about making her feel uncomfortable?"
The woman, to her credit, only blinked. When she spoke, it was like listening to a robot drone on. "That you would cut me apart limb from limb, Prince Vane. And you would feed me your blood to ensure I stayed alive through the process of dismembering me." Another empty blink. "That was the threat, if I were to remember correctly. I am merely informing the princess about the process, to keep her prepared for it. This is completely normal in doctor to patient conversations."
"And our word is simply not enough?" Quinlan growled. "She is not some broodmare to be inspected."
The woman—doctor—gave them a blank stare. "This is royal protocol. Every princess before her has endured this exact examination. It is not optional. Especially not for her. Not after all the extreme physical and internal changes her body has gone through in such short time. We must verify that her breeding channel has fully formed and matured correctly."
I blinked slowly, trying to pierce through the fog in my mind to understand why, why I felt a new emotion other than lust and rage.
It felt like... humiliation. Another word popped into my mind. Degradation. I started to breathe harshly.
Not right. This wasn’t right.
Memah turned her cold eyes to me. "A proper Lycan breeding channel is not just for pleasure. It is designed to safely take and lock around a mate’s knot. More importantly, it creates the ideal environment for conception and carrying pups. The walls must be elastic enough, strong enough, and chemically balanced to hold and protect a litter. If the channel hasn’t developed properly, or if there is any malformation, the risk of complications during pregnancy becomes extremely high. Miscarriages, hemorrhage, or the inability to carry to term. Her Majesty merely wishes to avoid all of that."
When my trembling didn’t cease, Soren stepped forward. "No. This isn’t happening. Pack up and leave, Memah."
The violence in the air skyrocketed.
Memah sighed. "Her Majesty wishes for me to inform you that if you do not let me carry out the examination, she will ensure the next doctor between your mates thighs is a man. And she will ensure you will not be present in the room with her when it happens."
All four of them went rigid.
Conflict flickered across their face. And there was such silent rage, I felt it pulse down the bond like murder, but they stood still, knuckles white.
Memah turned to me. Her voice was a little softer and gentler as she said, "Your Highness, I need you to lie back and relax as much as you can. This will be uncomfortable, but it will not be painful. I’ll be quick."
I did it, only because my brain told me to.
I laid back slowly, legs parting slowly. I was still trembling. Someone took my right hand. It was Jericho. Quinlan took my left. Mercer’s fingers brushed through my hair, forcing me to glance up at their faces above mine.
Soren’s fingers curled at his sides, forming clenched tight fists. His violet blue eyes were dark with rage and hate as Memah settled between my legs.
I knew then when her fingers methodically parted pushed my shorts to the side that Mercer insisting on the shorts had been to keep me from being completely naked and spread open like some kind of experiment.
I bit my lower lip, tears strangely welling in my eyes when I felt the cold gloves sink past my gloves into me.
Memah’s fingers moved with clinical precision, pressing and probing deep inside me. I bit down hard on my lower lip, trying to stifle the humiliating sounds crawling up my throat. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes even as unwanted heat bloomed low in my belly.
It was too much. Too intimate. Too wrong.
But Mercer’s green eyes stayed locked on mine the entire time, dark and intense, like he was trying to anchor me. For one dizzying moment, it almost felt like he was the one touching me instead of the cold, gloved stranger between my legs. And Quinlan and Jericho weren’t merely holding my hands. They were holding me down.
It made it feel less intrusive and almost...goddess save my ruined soul, erotic.
A soft, mortifying moan slipped out of me and Mercer’s eyes widened.
I felt equal parts sick, disgusted, hateful, insulted, and aroused. His mark on my skin tingled.
Memah paused, then slowly withdrew her fingers with a quiet, wet sound. She peeled off her gloves and began cleaning her hands.
"Well?" Soren demanded, voice like ice.
Memah turned to face all of us, completely unfazed by the wall of lethal Lycan males surrounding her.
"The Princess is in exceptional condition," she announced. "Better than exceptional, actually. Her breeding channel has developed beautifully, far more responsive and elastic than is typical for any Lycan female I have examined."
She glanced at me, almost approvingly.
"In fact, I would say her body has adapted exceptionally well. She is primed for breeding. The Queen will be pleased."
