Jax’s grimace deepened as he shed the garish women’s dress, its silken folds pooling at his feet like a mocking shadow. His bared teeth and snarled threats finally quelled the stifled laughter of his guards, who swore, hands raised in solemn vows, to bury the secret of his cross-dressing. Only then did Jax wave them off, their retreat leaving him to stew in humiliated silence, the weight of his sacrifice burning.
No one grasped the ordeal of shielding the Wolf King’s clandestine romance like Jax. When I’d slipped into the fitting room, Nate had summoned him with a crooked finger, decreeing he play the elusive Wolf Queen. Jax’s heart had plummeted, his world teetering. He cursed his earlier defiance, blocking Nate’s threat to summon Cole. Had he yielded, Cole would be the one in skirts, no
