Chapter 8 The Blood Pact

• Raven
• I tangled my fingers in his dark hair without even meaning to, aching to drag him closer and feel his tongue slip into my mouth.
• In those moments, I was driven only by my wolf and nothing else.
• His lips were so soft, so sweet. It was surprising, and felt so… right. So perfect. Like our mouths were two pieces of a puzzle that fit together just the way they were meant to.
• I could have stayed like that forever, with our lips locked together.
• “Mate,” I felt a wolf howl inside of me. “Need my—”
• Suddenly, Neil was shoving me back with an unexpected force. I instantly felt my wolf retreat, quickly followed by pure and unbridled embarrassment coursing through me.
• “Do not get ahead of yourself, Werewolf,” Neil snarled as he spat into the nearby brazier and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “We made a pact and nothing more.”
• I wiped my own lips with my fingers and turned away, a hot flush burning across my entire body. I shouldn’t have done that—never meant to do that. Goddess, what was wrong with me?
• “I’m sorry. My wolf got a little… overzealous when I tasted your blood.”
• Neil huffed behind me. I wondered if his own wolf had reacted like that, but if it did, he wasn’t about to reveal it to me. I had felt the way his arms had tightened around me, though; the way his fingers had dug into my skin and his hips had ground against my own.
• “The contract is sealed,” he said, regaining his composure. “I’ll come to prepare you in the morning.”
• I frowned. “Prepare me?”
• “You need to fit in,” he said, gesturing to me—particularly my hair and nails. “Right now, you look like a pampered Werewolf princess. Not a Lycan.” He turned on his heel and strode over to the door. “What color is your natural hair?”
• “Why does it matter?” I asked, to which the prince shot me a withering glare over his shoulder. I sighed and added, “Brown. But I’m not dyeing it, if that’s what you’re implying.”
• “We will see about that.”
• He reached for the doorknob, but I called out to him, “If you’re intending on making me change my appearance, then I want hot baths. And proper clothes.”
• “Fine.”
• And just like that, the Lycan prince was gone yet again.
• …
• “So… You’re ‘Serena’ now, hm?”
• The broad-shouldered bodyguard from yesterday leaned over me where I stood in the center of my room, both hands on his hips.
• There were other guards, too: a short, skinny one with red hair sitting on the end of my bed and a tall and slender one whose face I couldn’t make out from beneath their hood standing by the window.
• I recognized all of them from the beach. They had seemed like giants yesterday.
• But sitting here now, with the morning sunlight streaming in through my window and the sound of children laughing outside, they just seemed like… normal people. If you ignored the leather uniforms and fur cloaks and strange tattoos and the spears strapped to their backs.
• “Raven, this is Castor,” Neil said, gesturing to the big one, “Eric,” he gestured to the skinny one, “and Ember.” The hooded one. “They are my guards.”
• “And confidantes,” Castor said with a wink. I think I liked him already.
• Neil rolled his eyes and added, “They are aware of the situation and are going to be monitoring your progress. First order of business: dyeing your hair back to its natural color.” He tossed a small jar to Ember, which was filled with something that I only assumed was dye.
• “I never consented to dyeing my hair.”
• “Lycan girls do not bleach their hair,” Eric retorted, placing his hands on his hips. “You stand out like a sore thumb.”
• They couldn’t be serious. I looked at Neil for help, but he simply shrugged. “You can change the color again once you get home, can you not?”
• I grit my teeth and threw up the middle finger in his direction, eliciting a snort from Castor, but sat obediently on the chair that was waiting for me. “Fine,” I growled.
• As Ember got to work slathering the hair dye over my beautiful locks that I’d spent so long transitioning to a perfect white-blonde, Neil began to go through the trunk of clothes he’d brought for me: a few more of those awful brown dresses, some linen pants and skirts suited for a hot day in the sun, and several tops that appeared to wrap around the body.
• There was jewelry, too—gold arm bands and matching gold necklaces, large dangly earrings, a gold circlet to be worn around the head, beaded anklets.
• I supposed that Lycan women did adorn themselves after all. And the stuff was pretty, I had to admit.
• When he pulled out a large pile of panties next, however, I felt my face flush a deep shade of crimson. I quickly looked away and cleared my throat.
• “Thanks. But how did you know my bra size?”
• Neil, Castor, Eric, and Ember all froze and exchanged looks. “Bras?” Ember cocked their head.
• “Please tell me that women around here wear bras,” I said.
• “They don’t.” Neil glanced at my chest. “Not that you would need one even if they did.”
• I felt like I was going to pass out from embarrassment, especially when Ember sniggered behind me, but I kept my mouth shut. I mean, I always knew I wasn’t exactly blessed in the chest department, but… damn. That was brutal.
• “Anyway,” Neil continued, “my guards will be monitoring you during your stay. Do not go anywhere without one by your side. It’s imperative that you pass as a Lycan noble, which means that going unguarded is absolutely impermissible.”
• “We’ll also make sure you appear to fit in,” Castor said, his eyes crinkling at the corners a little as he offered me a sympathetic smile. “There are a lot of differences in Werewolf and Lycan culture, so there’s much you’ll have to learn.”
• I knew that, of course. But I didn’t know the specifics—not to the degree that was required here.
• “Can you give me some examples?” I asked.
• Eric rolled his eyes, but Ember began, “You will need to start by putting on some weight, since you’re so skinny.”
• My eyes widened at that. Gaining weight? As a model?
• Before I could refuse, Eric was adding, “Muscle, as well. You will be training with me.”
• “And I’ll be teaching you to dance,” Castor said with a grin, which was a surprising comment given his sheer size.
• “I already know how to dance,” I said. “I took ballet for years. And a ballroom dancing class for the Met Gala once.”
• Ember sniggered again, but Castor shook his head. “You will need to know some of our traditional dances. For the banquet.”
• I sighed, sinking down into the chair a little as Ember worked the dye into my hair. My hair, my weight…
• I wondered what other parts of myself would be changed while I was here.
• But it was better than being beheaded, I supposed.
• While the dye was setting in my hair, Ember, Eric, and Castor disappeared to fetch hot water. I rose and trailed my fingers across the clothes Neil had brought for me. Castor had laid one of the brown dresses, a pair of boots, and a cold armband on the bed for me to wear today.
• It was hard to imagine myself in these things. Aside from the jewelry, they were so… plain compared to the designer outfits I usually wore.
• “It’s what Lycan women wear,” Neil said from where he was leaning against the wall. “They look good in it, too. We’ll see if you can live up to that.”
• My face flushed, but before I could answer, the three guards returned carrying buckets.
• “If you really need hot baths, you’d better start fetching your own hot water,” Ember grunted as they poured the steaming water into the tub.
• “Otherwise get used to cold baths like everyone else,” Eric added. “It’s—”
• “I know, I know. ‘Good for the system’,” I said, quoting Neil. Eric, Ember, and Castor exchanged surprised glances at my quip.
• Once the tub was filled, the guards stepped back and Ember gestured for me to enter. I hesitated, my hands on the soft fabric of my robe, and joked, “What, are you going to watch me bathe, too?”
• “Yes,” Neil replied without missing a beat.
• I felt my face turn red as a tomato. He couldn’t be serious…?
• Suddenly, Ember tugged their hood back to reveal a long head of golden hair… and the features of a woman.