The cold wind that blows across the curtains, into the room, and on the smooth skin of Zadok and Zyla, who are apart but not asleep, makes their blood freeze because of the coldness.
"Get on the bed, Zyla. Forget about me"
"That isn't right"
"It isn't if you don't have permission..."
"I insist, Prince"
Zyla stands up from the bed and turns to face Zadok.
The Prince of the mystic wolves stares at her, his undesirable expression making her tremble within.
"You have to have a stretch on your Royal Bed"
{Did I just say that? Since when do I respect wolves this much?}
Zadok sighs and that was when Zyla, noticed a change.
"P-Zadok? Your hair? It's-"
"I cut it"
Zyla's eyes glued to the short hair of Zadok with her mind and eyes spinning. Why would he do that? Has he developed such a hatred for his hair now? If he has, he should know that they are many people, especially women, that need that type of hair!
Growing that long hair is work you know! He should know that!
