As the sun moved overhead in the sky, I raced after Xavier, slowed for him even. His speed and stamina were worse than mine, but still nothing to sneer at.

The bond that I'd felt earlier was still there, but it wasn't pulling me to him like it had earlier. I had the unnerving feeling that it had been there all along, and had only flared to life when I'd met Xavier.

I let him lead the way, taking note of the distance we covered and landmarks that I saw along the way, just in case I needed to retrace my steps. This proved difficult because of our speed, and the fact that we were in a forest with countless trees that all looked pretty much the same.

He was quiet, not saying a word, his posture rigid and features guarded. Reserved and tense, as if a dark past had molded him into who he was today. I was thankful he hadn't tied me up and abducted me, but I still didn't trust him. At all.

A few hours later, we arrived in the outskirts of a small village. The land was speckled with wooden structures surrounded by the remains of plants, the fields barren in the midst of winter. The air smelled faintly of manure, an odor I knew would grow stronger the closer we got. The town wasn't large; it looked like it might have at most 500 people.

We continued toward the city, both of us unconsciously slowed to human speeds, and I halted as a realization hit me: I couldn't walk around looking like myself. Xavier noticed, and stilled, not bothering to turn around.

Without looking back, he tossed his dark cloak to me, and continued on. I caught it and hastily put it on before pulling the dark hood over my face.

I followed Xavier warily as we neared the small village. He was silent, and I held my breath as we entered the town, as if that would do something to keep me hidden. Peaking up from beneath the shadows of my hood, I studied the quaint little town.

The sand-and-rock road beneath me stretched in a long, straight strip, wide enough for many people to pass and go- perfect for the occasional market or town gathering. Lining the main road were buildings of various shapes and sizes, though they all had one thing in common: they were old, run-down, and much different from the upscale venues I was used to back in my hometown. This town was poor; structures made of old, rotting wood, doors that squeaked on hinges that were barely fastened to the walls. People milled the streets, parents smiling and laughing as children played with toys. They gave us a wide berth as we passed, something akin to fear filling their eyes as they beheld Xavier.

I heard only hushed voices as I peered out from under my hood, taking in the buildings and sparse signage. A hotel was nestled in between houses, clearly marked by the word "INN," and a mouth-watering aroma told me of a nearby bakery. We stopped at the door of an unmarked building, and Xavier walked inside.

I hesitated for a moment, all my instincts telling me to proceed, while my rational mind screamed that this was obviously a trap and that I should turn and run while I still could. My curiosity, aided by my instincts, took over and I strolled inside the ramshackle building.

A frowning old man and a smiling young woman introduced themselves as Rux and Callista. One whiff of their scent eased my nerves; they were undoubtedly human.

Callista nodded her head toward Xavier, as if in respect, and turned her attention to me. Rux sat behind his wooden desk, his expression cold.

"How may I help you two today?" she asked, entirely the friendly saleswoman.

"Change the girl," he ordered, gesturing to me.

So this was what Xavier had in mind. I had to admit, it was a good idea, and one that I hadn't bothered to think of myself. The Queen's soldiers would never find someone matching my description. And, despite my desire to protest from the fact that I liked my current hairstyle, I did no such thing.

She nodded curtly. "Certainly. Please come with me."

She strolled a few paces over to a door, which she unlocked and motioned for us to enter. We did so, and I was greeted by a dark room. Callista lit a candle, which helped illuminate the room a bit, but not much. The room had a cushy chair with a mirror in front of it. There was a small table stand consisting of hair dyes of various shades, brushes of various sizes, and scissors. She turned to me. "If you may, please take off your hood, milady."

Milady? Who did this woman think I was? I'd never met her before, and I certainly wasn't royalty. Xavier obviously trusted her enough to see my true face, though some strange part of me knew that she wouldn't turn us in. Maybe she was just being polite. Or maybe... maybe this had to do with Xavier, and his different scent... I once again cut off my train of thought, not daring to go there... yet. My life was in enough chaos as it was without my entertaining the possibility of Xavier being what I thought he might be.

After receiving a nod of confirmation from Xavier, I pulled off my hood and took a seat in the chair, crossing my legs in front of me.

I heard a sharp intake of breath emitted from the woman, which earned her a glare from my werewolf friend. She bowed he head once more and began to work on my hair.

After what felt like hours of washing, snipping, combing, more snipping, dying, and then finally drying, Callista finally let me look in the mirror. I gaped at my reflection. I'd been worried about letting someone else mess with my hair, but even I had to admit she'd done a good job. She'd kept my hair relatively long, it now reached just past my chest, and was dyed a lighter shade of blonde that made it look natural and not like I was actually trying to hide my real hair color.

I nodded my head in thanks to the beautician, and, much to my surprise, she gave me a genuine-looking smile and said, "I'm glad you like it." She then walked over to a rack of clothes that I somehow hadn't managed to see sitting in one of the dark corners.

"Dress or pants?" she asked as she rummaged through the rack of clothes, trying to find something appropriate for me to wear.

Then, seeing as I couldn't speak, she brought out a dress and a pair of pants and a tunic, and I pointed to the dress. I thought it rather funny, the idea that I had a choice of what to wear. In this day and age, a proper woman was required to wear dresses; pants and a tunic simply weren't proper for a lady. And, while lower classes tended to wear ensembles of cotton and wool, the dresses of the higher court members were expected to be made of finer materials such as silk and velvet. Some of the older ladies wore corsets and hoop skirts, although it was awfully hard to maneuver in them, and I certainly wasn't having Xavier tie my corset every day.

Callista walked back over to the racks for a moment before returning, carrying a wide array of different colored dresses. A bit overwhelmed, I ran my fingers over the different fabrics, surprised to find them of seemingly good quality. I looked them over and stopped on one that was a deep purple. Noticing my attention, the woman pulled out the dress from the heap of other fabrics she carried and held it out in front of me.

The skirt of the dress was covered in layers of violet gossamer, which was overlaid by a deep purple velvet. The top was in the same pattern, with sleeves that lay in a boat neck across the shoulders. It looked warm, and I knew it was a good choice for the chilly winter outside. Smiling, I pointed to the dress.

"That's a pretty one, madam. One of my favorites," said Callista, before she wandered off to yet another rack, hung up the other dresses, and grabbed a heavy black cloak from a hanger, and some matching black laced boots with short heels.

"Would you like to change into them now, miss?"

I nodded, and she escorted me to a small changing room where I discarded my tunic and pants and put on the more proper dress.

I hadn't come from a dreadfully rich family, although I certainly hadn't been poor. My father earned a hefty salary working for the Queen, though he was also gone a lot of the time. He used his salary to pay for nannies and maids, who cared for me through much of my childhood after my mom's passing.

My thoughts turned sober at the thought of my mother, and I quickly shook my head before guilt and terror flashed through me like a wave in a dreadful storm at sea.

I took the clothes and changed in her small changing room, giving my reflection a nod of approval before exiting. I was pleasantly surprised that the dress fit well; I wouldn't have to try on other sizes. The woman looked me over once more before grabbing a dark, black cloak from yet another rack and handing it to me. I put it on, grateful to be in clean clothes once more.

After purchasing a few extra pairs of clothes and a satchel to carry them, we went back out into the main room of the building, and I noticed the old man was still sitting in that rickety old chair of his, staring off into the distance as if he was acknowledging someone that we couldn't see.

----

Xavier didn't speak to anyone as he led me to what I presumed to be an inn. As we walked through its shabby front door, I smelled the stale stench of cheap beer and the slight tang of something foul. I didn't even want to think about what that odor might belong to.

Upon entering, I found a dimly lit tavern that was empty save for a lone bartender snoozing in a chair behind the serving counter, which was bordered by a dank stairwell with ascending steps. Wooden benches and tables were scattered about, but remained unoccupied. Business would probably pick up later at night, when people were done with the day's work.

Xavier approached the barkeep without falter, and cleared his throat to awaken the snoring staff. The man jerked upright instantly, his eyes portraying what seemed to be alarm as he beheld Xavier. His eyes didn't once flicker to me, which made sense. After all, I was only a girl, and in our society, it was likely he thought I was just one of Xavier's playthings, not worthy of dignifying with a second glance. He just better hope he never got on my bad side.

"Room for two," said Xavier, pulling some money from his pocket and placing it on the counter before him.

Not bothering to count the amount he'd received, the bartender pocketed the coins and handed Xavier a room key in one swift motion.

Xavier's words clicked then, and tons of protesting thoughts ran through my mind as I stood, frozen in place, watching the silhouette of my mysterious companion confer with the lanky man. Much to my demise, I couldn't make my muscles move forward to protest and Xavier picked up the keys, not even bothering to grace the barkeep with a nod of thanks. The staff didn't look surprised though; I supposed you took what you could get in a small town like this.

My intense objection was, of course, the fact that there was no way in hell that I was sharing a room with that man, or beast, or... well, whatever it was that he may be. But I stood there, terrified and rooted in place, not daring to make a move as he strolled over to the stairs and began the ascent upwards to what was no doubt our hotel room.

When he seemed to realize that I wasn't following, he cut me a glance over his shoulder. "Come on." That sheer, commanding tone had me flinching back. It was the kind of voice possessed only by those in great power. The kind that demanded respect and strict obedience.

Those dark eyes of his bore into mine, and for a moment I forgot where I was, and I only had one instinct: run. The thought was so strong that it hit me like a brick and pulled me back into reality, to his words. My body moved involuntarily, ebbing closer to him in a terrified gait. Xavier's face remained stone cold as he turned on continued up the stairs. I guess my complaints about sharing a room would have to wait until later.

I was barely aware of my surroundings as we moved through the cramped wooden hall. The stairway led into a small common area, which parted into a few rooms, and amount that seemed to fit perfectly considering the size of the town.

Xavier unlocked one of the doors and didn't look back as he barged into the room with me following a safe distance behind.

Stepping through the doorway was like entering into another dimension. While the rest of the hotel had been stuffy, cramped, and foul smelling, the room, though small, was well-lit and rather comfy. The walls were a pretty beige color and the floor was made of polished cedar. There was another door that I assumed led to a bathroom. A few windows with curtains drawn were embedded in the walls, and a twin-sized bed clad in white sheets and a comforter sat in one corner of the room. Yep, there was absolutely no way I was sharing that bed with him.

I stood silently in the entrance as Xavier kicked off his boots and reclined on the bed, crossing his arms and glaring at me. I could feel my knees trembling under his heavy stare, all the while having no real clue what to do with myself. Did he want me to go fetch some water or food? Was I to be his servant of some sort? I still knew almost nothing about this man, and for some stupid reason I'd followed him this far. He could have been one of the Queen's guards for all I knew.

My thoughts were interrupted by a large huff followed by, "You may be mute, but I don't take you for a moron. Close the door."

Once again struggling for control of my body, I reached behind me and shut the door, not daring to turn my back to him. Why in the god damned world wasn't I running right now? That would be the smart thing to do. But no, I just had to remain rooted in place, not daring to meet his gaze.

He rose from the bed in one fluid motion, and my heartbeat picked up as he neared me and began to slowly circle me. Finally, he stopped in front of me once more, and my breathing increased tenfold as he gave a low, humorless chuckle.

"So... this is what the werewolf Alpha gets for a mate. A sniveling, powerless Fae. The Goddess really does have a sick sense of humor sometimes."