Big Bad Wolfie

After the dress, it was hair and makeup and this and that and all this stuff that actually did end up taking most of the day.

I didn't get to look in the mirror much this whole time, but I caught a glimpse of myself in a window on our way to my aunt and uncle's office — which Jason has taken over — and I don't look terrible.

It's not what I would have done for myself — the makeup's a little heavy — but it could have been worse.

I will be wiping some of it off, though. They made my freckles disappear under all this concealer! That was probably the point, but I look weird without them. Like I'm my evil twin with really clear skin or something. Not to mention the blush. They went crazy with it. I look like a clown that just got complemented on my shoes, but they said, and I quote, "we've got to add some color to those lifeless cheeks."

Well I'm sorry, not enough blood flows through my veins for that.

The eyes are pretty loud too. Although, I'm afraid if I try to wipe off the blue-purple hombre thing going on, it will ruin everything and make me look even more like a clown. And that's not the look I'm going for either.

The hair's fine. It's just two simple french braids running down over my shoulder and stopping near the middle of my back. It really makes all the different colors I have running through my hair look beautiful. The style's nothing too extreme. What they wanted to do at first though, was. They were so adamant about wanting to dye my crazy colored dark brown, nearly black hair, BLONDE. Blonde! Out of all shades! They ranted about how great it would be for the look and how it would make my green eyes pop and blah blah blah. First of all, my eyes aren't always green. Second of all. . .

. . . Well, I just have no desire to be a blonde.

And I'm afraid of commitment and change so I keep my hair the same forever, but that has very little to do with it.

I literally had to pin the hair stylist's wrists behind her back to keep her from doing it. The warriors and Blondie tried to stop me(this also took up quite a bit of time) but I was not letting go until I knew for sure my hair wasn't getting dyed.

And now, here we are. Walking down the hall to meet Wolfie. Hair still perfectly brown and rainbow.

I wonder what he'll think.

No I don't. I don't care.

. . . Yes I do.

But he will never EVER know that.

Blondie knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" Wolfie called from inside.

"It's Emily."

So Blondie's name is Emily.

"Come in," he responded.

We did as he said and opened the door. I looked around and noticed he hasn't done much to the office. He's sitting at the larger of the two desks — my aunt's — and he's moved it to the center of the room. There's also a bunch of papers — probably her stuff — that fill the trash can next to him.

Well, at least now my aunt's desk is finally getting cleaned out.

That's pretty much it of what he changed. My uncle's things haven't even been touched.

We stepped into the room and found him looking down at a couple of documents. I recognize a few of them as my aunt's, and others I don't recognize at all.

Blondie — or, Emily placed her hand at the small of my back and ushered me forward until I was in front of his desk. My eyes wonder down to some of his papers while he's busy.

"I'll be done in just a second." He glanced up at us, then went back to his work. "I just need to —" he stopped and looked up again, seeming a little star struck. ". . . Finish this."

Ha.

staring at me for a bit. Eyes unblinking

people seemed to know what to

don't believe in being fashionably late," I exclaimed with

it was giving

He checked his watch. "Four thirty two! We won't have any time for traffic.

"Yes, alpha."

whipped around, and there stood

When did

could even think twice about it,

his papers, and I'm just now noticing that he's not wearing what he

Yum.

at that one. The way that

I watched the muscles flex in his back and arms as he slipped

YUM!!

that one made me feel a little like a

and grabbed my arm on the way, dragging

Stupid sparks erupted.

so fast?" I questioned, annoyed with

over his shoulder instead of answering

can get back to me on that

"You'll be waiting a while from that. Might as well just speed up now," he

Oh

yanked me forward, cutting off my mental

started heading down them. Very quickly. I stepped down the first step and my ankle immediately twisted painfully

waited a

Nothing.

What

I peaked an eye

what

With me hanging relatively helpless in his

like something a frail person would

I hate it.

exploded in my

is

They're beautiful.

I

Is this all because of the stupid mate bond? That's how it works?

And. . . Alluring.

And beautiful.

And amazing smelling.

And — AH!

I hate it. Just like I hate the undeniable beauty in his eyes and ability to make my knees wobble out of. . . What?!

fit in. You've seen nothing amazingly special about him he's courageous enough to act on. My reasoning: he took over a house to please

other side of me is saying, mate mate mate! you NEED this being in your life FOREVER! He is the most bestest, perfectest, amazingest thing