Chapter 9

Raven

Ember pulled back her hood, revealing that she was a woman—and a beautiful one at that, with caramel skin, golden hair, and striking blue eyes.

“I’ll be helping you wash,” she said, already ushering the men out of the bathroom.

I still felt my face heat, even with just the two of us in here. “Every day?” I asked, hating how small my voice sounded. It was a relief that she was a woman, but I’d never needed to bathe with anyone else back home.

“Well, since you insist on having hot baths, then you will need someone to help you carry the water,” she said, glancing at my skinny arms. “And I doubt you will be capable of doing it all on your own.”

I looked away, choosing not to comment on that.

Ember turned her back, and I slipped my robe off and stepped into the steaming bath. It was still not as hot as I usually would have liked it back home, but it was better than ice cold water, and soothed my tired muscles. I had more than a few bruises and scratches from the crash, and since my wolf was so exhausted, I hadn’t been able to heal yet.

Once I was submerged, Ember turned and kneeled beside the tub, helping me scrub the dye out of my hair.

I watched miserably as the water began to turn brown.

“It took a lot of time to get my hair so blonde, you know,” I said, pinching the chocolate strands between my fingers. “So much money… So many trips to the hair salon…”

Ember scoffed. “It did not look as good as you think.”

My cheeks flushed. “Gee. Thanks.” Everyone back home seemed to prefer the blonde. Especially the men.

“I mean it,” she said matter-of-factly. “Your natural hair color suits your complexion much better. You look less pale already.” She paused, glancing down at my white shoulders, then added with a tiny smirk, “Although you are still extremely pale.”

“Is that something else that’ll need to be ‘fixed’?” I retorted, not bothering to hide the annoyance in my voice.

Ember simply nodded and dunked my head under the water.

…

Blissfully, Neil and the other men were gone when I emerged from the bathroom. Ember helped me put on that awful brown dress, followed by the lace-up boots and jewelry Castor had laid out for me. She then pulled my hair into a long braid that trailed down the center of my back, with tiny braids around the crown of my head.

“There,” she said, stepping back to admire her work. “A little better.”

I wrinkled my nose, expecting the worst, but when I turned to face the mirror…

My eyes widened. The dress actually looked… stunning. It fell mid-thigh, hugging my hips and waist in all the right spots, with the neckline slightly plunging. This one had short sleeves, which accentuated my arms, even more so with the gold cuff around my upper arm.

And the boots fit perfectly, coming up just below my knees, the soft leather and flat soles far more comfortable than my usual designer heels.

Ember had been right, too; the brown hair did suit me better, especially in this style with intricate braids circling my head like a crown. Unbeknownst to me, she had even woven little golden rings into the braids, which jingled softly as I moved.

“Wow. I look…”

“The dress would fit much better if you were not so skinny,” Ember said, curling her lip. “But you do look a little more like a Lycan girl now.”

Her words hurt, but I chose not to comment. She had put a lot of work into making me look so nice, after all.

By that point, my stomach was growling, so Ember led me out of my room to get something to eat. The castle corridors were full of servants with baskets of fresh fruits and vegetables and piles of linens in their arms, many of whom did double-takes and dipped their heads politely as we passed.

“They think you’re a noble,” Ember whispered, nudging me forward. “Don’t look at them so much. It makes you stand out.”

Blushing, I quickly averted my gaze. I was no stranger to the hierarchical differences in the entertainment industry, of course; this was no different than the dynamic between the high-end models and the unpaid interns at one of the big fashion shows.

I had ever been the biggest fan of that dynamic, though. Nor was I about to become a fan of this one.

Finally, we arrived in what I only assumed was Neil’s private quarters. We found Neil, Eric, and Castor sitting at a small dining table by a large window overlooking the sunny courtyard, their heads bent around something in the center of the table. When we entered, they looked up.

Eric’s eyes widened. Castor nearly choked on his drink.

Neil’s face remained impassive. Almost. But I saw the way his nostrils flared when he took in my appearance.

“She almost looks like a Lycan girl,” Eric sneered, returning his attention to whatever it was the three of them had been puzzling over. “Nice work, Ember.”

Ember snorted. “It wasn’t easy.”

I was about to bite out a retort when I realized what they were toying with.

“Hey! That’s my phone!” I growled, storming up to the table. “Where did you get that?” I’d thought I had lost it during the crash, that it was now sitting at the bottom of the ocean.

Before I could grab it, Neil pulled it out of my reach and held it in the air. “We found it in the sand beside you yesterday,” he said. “And no, you’re not getting it back.”

“Not that it seems to work, anyway,” Castor mused, scratching his head.

I frowned and stomped around the table toward Neil, lunging for it again. “I don’t care. That’s mine. I want it back.”

“No.” Neil jumped to his feet, holding the phone above his head where it was far out of reach. “If this thing works, I don’t need you trying to make calls to the Werewolves. I am confiscating it until you leave.”

My face heated with fury. “I’m not planning on calling anybody,” I growled, hopping on my toes in an attempt to snatch it from him. “But I do own a business back home. I need to check in at least. Unless you want people to come looking for me.”

“There’s no signal here anyway,” Neil retorted, holding the phone even higher. “Besides, I know what you Werewolves are like, always staring at these things. People will see you playing with it and know for a fact that you’re not a Lycan.”

“I won’t let that happen. Just give. It. Back!”

With one last growl, I leaped forward in an attempt to grab the phone from Neil’s hand. But he caught me with his other, easily lifting me onto his shoulder. As if my face wasn’t red enough before, it turned a deep shade of crimson now, especially when I heard the three guards laughing from behind me.

“Urgh! Put me down!” I practically shrieked, struggling in Neil’s grip.

“Quiet.” I felt his hand slap my exposed ass—a warning.

I thought I might pass out from embarrassment.

“You… You male… chauvinist… dictator!” I howled.

Neil merely chuckled, a deep sound that rumbled against my belly. “Hm. I think I like that title,” he said, carrying me over to the table like I was nothing more than a sack of potatoes. He plopped me down on a chair and pointed at the bowl of stew in front of me. “Eat.”

“But—”

“We will find a way to handle your affairs back home for you,” Castor assured me with a tiny smile. “You don’t need to worry.”

It wasn’t really much of a relief, considering the fact that I doubted that any of them knew what they were doing.

But I was hungry, and my phone was probably dead anyway.

So with one last snarl in Neil’s direction—which elicited surprised chuckles from the guards—I grabbed my stew and shoveled a big spoonful into my mouth.