Reject My Alpha President (Iris and Arthur) novel Chapter 156

Iris

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The next morning, the testing center is even more crowded than I expected it to be 1 clutch Miles‘ hand tightly as we navigate through the throng of people, all women, all waiting to see if they’re the missing heir.

The line stretches out the door and around the block, but it moves quickly. Efficient attendants in white lab coats usher people through the process, swabbing the insides of their cheeks and then sending them away.

As we get in line, I glance around at the other women who have come. They’re all strikingly beautiful, with the unmistakable

presence that werewolves naturally exude–tall, graceful, with perfect skin and glossy hair.

Next to them, I feel distinctly ordinary in my jeans and simple blouse, my Flora disguise left at home today because I figured no

one would recognize me anyway. I haven’t been recognized in public for a while.

When we finally reach the front of the line, a perky attendant with a clipboard greets us.

“Welcome to the Willford Family Search Initiative,” she chirps. “Are you here to be tested?”

“Yes,” I say, trying to ignore the curious glances from the women behind me. “Just me, not my son.”

“Perfect! I’ll just need you to fill out this form with your basic information.” She hands me a clipboard. “Do you have any known werewolf lineage? We’re primarily looking for Alpha werewolf genetics, of course.”

“No,” I admit, taking the clipboard. “None that I know of. I’m human, as far as I’m aware.”

The attendant blinks, her smile faltering slightly. “Oh. Well, anyone is welcome to test, of course! The donation to the orphanage

is made regardless of eligibility.”

I nod, trying not to feel self–conscious as I fill out the form. Name, date of birth, contact information… There’s a space for “known genealogy” that I leave blank, and another for “reason for testing” where I simply write “orphan.”

From behind me, I hear

hushed giggles. Turning slightly, I catch two gorgeous werewolf women whispering to each other.

“A human?” one murmurs, not bothering to lower her voice. “What’s the point?”

“The Willfords have been purebred Alphas for twelve generations,” the other replies, shaking her head. “As it a human could possibly be related.”

My cheeks burn, but I keep my expression neutral as I hand the form back to the attendant. She glances it over, then leads me to a

I comply, trying to ignore the continued stares and whispers from the waiting room. The swab scrapes the inside of my cheek for a moment before the technician places it in a sealed tube with a label. They tell me I’ll hear back about the results within a week.

“Is it really worth running the test?” I hear someone mutter as we exit the booth. “What a waste of resources.”