The royals are all insane. They want to be humans more than wolves. Hazel has spent the past few hours scrubbing my skin and plucking out hairs. It’s like everyone in this place forgets that when we shift, we grow hairs. If my wolf was bald, I’m sure the queen would have an issue.
Hazel does my makeup first as I sit on the bench in my towel. I have to admit that she does it very well. It’s not something I ever learned to do as we didn’t have money for such things.
“The prince has requested that I leave your hair down,” Hazel tells me timidly. “I fear the queen may have an issue with it.”
Hazel is not wrong. Queen Judith will be furious, and she will not care that it was Joseph’s decision.
“What if you pull part of it back?” I ask.
“You like it down,” my mate says as he enters
