Chapter 73 Betrothed To The Alpha King

• It’s so late it’s beginning to qualify as early when we leave Wyrding House, and we sneak out like grounded teenagers. We’re definitely not dressed with a royal vibe; I’ve got on an impossibly short, super clingy long-sleeve mini-dress in an obnoxious lime and fluorescent yellow print, and Nathan is wearing gray track pants, a plain black tee shirt, and a black denim jacket with a gray hood.
• “You look like an undercover cop,” I whisper, leaning on him so I don’t fall off my ridiculous Lucite heels. My ponytail is so high and tight I feel like my scalp is going to pop off, and I’m fairly certain I can feel the night air on my butt cheeks.
• When I slide into the leather passenger seat of the waiting car, I whoop with shock at the cold.