All Chapters of Rise of the Switched Alpha Queen: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

"If you keep pacing like a caged rogue, Lorelei, you are going to wear a hole right through the timber floorboards," Sterling Whitlock says, his massive hands gripping the edge of the dining table while he stares at the stack of leather-bound pack ledgers. "Joxie is not stupid. She born human, but she has the sharp instincts of a border hunter. The second she saw those Hawkridge Enforcers standing outside the Whitlock Cottage with their spell-locked cases, she knew we were hiding something."Lorelei Whitlock stops dead in her tracks, her chest heaving under her linen tunic as her fingernails dig into her palms. "She thinks we are drowning in debt to the Hawkridge Council, Sterling! She asked me straight to my face if loan sharks were coming to seize our land. My blood went completely cold. I spent seventeen years away from my child while Maureen Gilbert raised Tuesday in luxury, and now Joxie comes back to this pack house thinking her biological parents are destitute outcasts.""She w

Grandmother Pearl Whitlock sits frozen on her worn leather sofa, her pale eyes fixed on Celt Hawkridge as he stands tall in the center of the quiet living room. She grips his dark leather sleeve with trembling, calloused fingers, her voice barely a whisper against the heavy air."Joxie brought over a heavy sack of fresh game meat and mountain herbs to see me first thing this morning," Grandmother Pearl says, tears welling in her eyes and trailing down her wrinkled cheeks. "Only, she didn’t expect to run into her foster mother... Maureen has always been harsh, never having an ounce of warmth for my poor girl because Joxie was born without a wolf scent. She said such bitter, cruel things about Joxie being a scentless bloodline disappointment, so the child didn’t even stay twenty minutes before Maureen drove her out the iron gate."Grandmother Pearl’s grip tightens on Celt’s arm, her breathing shallow and ragged. "She was deeply wounded, Celt. That is the only reason she didn't bring thi

"Is this complete joke of a document all you brought me, Headmistress Birdsong?" Vice Principal Mr. Booker snarls, his claws scraping against his heavy oak desk in the Academy Administration House.He tosses the parchment signup roster for the Northern Territory Trial directly into my face, his yellow wolf eyes flashing with bitter disdain."Out of forty elite purebloods in the Wolf Biology Wing, only three signed up? And why in the Goddess's name is Joxie Whitlock's name on this paper? She is a scentless human from Whitlock Hollow! She has no wolf, no pack standing, and no right to represent Mooncrest Academy!"I stand straight in front of his massive desk, my broad shoulders squared beneath my simple tunic, my face an unreadable mask of stone. I do not flinch under his heavy pressure."The Northern Territory Trial is open to every registered student at Mooncrest Academy, Mr. Booker," Headmistress Birdsong replies smoothly, stepping up beside me, though her hand twitches near her bel

"Why bring up Tuesday Gilbert again?" Briggs Whitlock snaps, his jaw clenching as he stares across the wooden dining table in Whitlock Cottage. "Are you two even on the same rank, Joxie?"I tap my thick, calloused fingers against the oak table, my broad shoulders rolling in a slow, indifferent shrug. "Are you sure you weren't the one who dragged her name into my breakfast first, Briggs?"Briggs chokes on his breath, his eyes flaring with pure, golden wolf-frustration. He rubs the back of his thick neck, trying to rein in his Alpha temper. "Tuesday is shooting for an elite officer rank inside the Davis Alpha Residence. And you? Entering the Northern Territory Trial with your non-existent wolf grades is completely pointless."He pauses, dropping his voice into a stern, gravelly hum. "With the time you're wasting pushing iron, you should enroll in a basic pack-tactics class. It would save you from getting your bones broken."Despite his constant disappointment in having an unshifted, plu

"If you slip that iron pen into your sleeve again, Joxie, I will personally drag you out of the Mooncrest Wolf Halls by your throat," Mr. Booker grunts, his heavy timber desk creaking under his broad elbows as his wolf-scent fills the examination room with bitter cedar.I do not bother looking up from the rough parchment resting on my wooden desk. My thick, calloused fingers flick the tip of the graphite nib, tracing the complex alchemical formulas for suppression draughts without taking a breath. "Save your breath, proctor. You have fifty-nine minutes left to watch me fail, and I would hate for your inner beast to drop dead of exhaustion before the sand runs out."A quiet gasp ripples through the rows of desks behind me. Out of forty candidates taking the Northern Territory Trial prelims inside Silverpine City, I am the only unshifted human sitting among a room full of young, razor-clawed shifters.My broad, heavy frame stretches the seams of my linen tunic, my shoulders thick and un