Love is a very slow process. You have to shape yourself to fit someone else's ideal of you in order to achieve that. "Your hair is gorgeous but if you go into that pack looking exactly like the newspaper print then at some point, someone is bound to recognize you, Ava, and once your cover is blown then that's it," I mull it over for a while as I stare at the clumps of my hair that were gathered like a rug on my thighs. Furthermore, hair grows back, and yours grows quickly," Mesa adds, to my agreement but still disapproval. She again grabs for my hair, the scissors, and the comb. The sheer volume of hair that piled at my feet as I stared surprised even me in its size. I fingered the strands that accumulated above my shoulders as she cut me bangs since she wouldn't allow me look in the mirror once she was done. I pretended not to notice as more hair dropped. I'm eager to finish this, seduce this Alpha Storm, take that stone, and then depart on vacation. Just a necessary sacrifice, really. "Done," said Mesa. She refused to let me see it despite my requests. "No. If you see it and don't like it, you'll probably decide differently, and I'll have to spend hours persuading you. Yes, I can essentially just pick up all the strands on the ground and re-attach them to my head if I don't want that. I scoff and wonder why we didn't simply use a wig. However, I am aware from personal experience that my hair would not have fit in one. Mesa yells, "Give me your ring," pointing to the assassins' ring on my left second finger. "Why?" I inquire, bringing my hand up to my heart. I never remove it. Never taking off the mate bond ring is against one of our Assassins' vows. Finding our soul partner cannot ever be at danger. I gaze at her with anger in my eyes as she continues, "don't worry, Ava, your mate isn't anywhere around us so it's safe," as if she could read my mind. How are you doing? "I am aware that assassins wear the ring to avoid meeting their partners. All mate bond rings are produced by witches, and your pack uses them frequently, therefore no one ever suspects an assassin when they see the ring, which is how I know this. Give it now. She offers her hand in a gesture. "How do you know that my mate isn't anywhere near us?" I wanted to ask. I ask her a question while my eyes are closed. "Gift," she says. "I see things. I was endowed with the capacity to recognize each person's gifted partner. "So, who is-" I pause before asking the full question and decide I don't want to know. Its better that I remain ignorant. So I shift the subject instead. I asked, "Why do you need my ring?" I must cast a number of spells on it. Your look will alter after the first spell. Actually, not quite. I cast a wary glance her way, "It'll just change the color of your eyes and hair." The others, too? The Alpha won't be able to smell the dozens or even hundreds of wolves you've likely mated with thanks to another who will mask your scent. I give her a snide glare. Yeah, actually being skilled at sex is such a turn off. "One of the last crucial spells will enable me to appear to you at any time if you ever need me or are just in distress, all you have to do is delicately scratch your ring three times. So to speak, it's a personal link for us." She beams confidently, as if praising herself for coming up with these ideas that she believes to be somewhat infallible. I object to her plans to alter the way I look. Without her sleek, long black hair, piercing blue eyes, and perfect, radiant complexion, who is Ava? But I realize that she's taking this action to lessen the likelihood that I'll be discovered. This gives me even more cause to despise Alpha Max. He has made sure that everyone now knows how I look! She stretches out her hands once more, motioning with her fingers for me to hand her the ring. I do so reluctantly. My finger immediately feels exposed. I haven't taken off that ring since I acquired it six years ago, and I miss having it. I abruptly stop feeling like Ava as I stare at the ring-related dent on my finger. I feel different, at least physically. Mesa remains silent while gazing down at the ring. Her silver eyes start to sparkle. "Tell me about Storm," I begin. "You want me to seduce him, but neither you nor Aiden have given me any information about his character or what makes him desire to be with me. You know it doesn't work like that. But with this Storm guy, all I know is that he's the Alpha of the most boring pack in existence. For us, anytime we get a target, we also get information on that target — their personality type, favorite food, allergies, sexual preferences, and anything. And that is all you require to know. She says she's going to sit down as I stand there and look at her while she continues to have a radiant look in her eyes as she examines my ring. "Mesa, that isn't enough to accomplish anything. You seem to be setting me up for failure in this situation. You first want to steal my appearance, and now you're not even providing me adequate information about the location or the target of my seduction. Has he found a partner? Is he vicious? "Tell me!" Mesa sighs and wraps my ring in her palm while staring up at me and crosses her arms. Storm is quite good at interpreting nonverbal cues, Rose. You need to be your most innocent, impartial self to approach him. Because of your past experiences, you might respond too quickly if I told you what he's like, and Storm would grab you. Everything ends the second he gets you. You must act as though you weren't trying to trick him and that everything was truly sincere if you want him to fall for you. To make him aware of that, you must get to know him personally. If you already know your target, he will not view your interest in mapping him as real interest in getting to know him. What in the name of God is this discourse for? These guys want me to have a sexual encounter with a stranger. Are they insane? Ava, I'm serious. Storm will be aware if you even go so far as to stare at him incorrectly. The only thing I'll say about Storm is that you have to be pure to approach him. I guffaw. Was she referring to virginity? When I was fourteen, I lost that s—. This is seriously so funny. I chuckle out loud, finding it odd that my hair doesn't fall over my shoulders and back. "Stupid, I don't mean your body. I refer to your emotions and thought processes. Consider this to be your toughest acting challenge. And no, he still hasn't found his soul mate, I exhaled a hot breath. There is no progress here. What even does this Storm resemble? When I first see him, how will I recognize him? The only thing I took away from this pointless conversation is that if Mesa had been in charge of the Assassins, we would all already be on the streets. She has no knowledge of the actual mechanics of this seduction game. In order to shape myself into the seduction archetype that my target is most likely to be drawn to, seduced by, and fall for, I must first determine his personality type. It's a fucking mental work. You see, some men prefer assertive women. Others are adorable, reserved, excessively sexual, pretentious, promiscuous, and my least favorite, genuinely naïve individuals. I would have already lost the war if I adopted the incorrect seducer archetype for my target. I need to understand Storm's characteristics so that I can predict the kind of female who will persuade him to compromise his principles. I only infer from Mesa that he might enjoy the innocent stereotype. Or perhaps I should work together till I figure him out? Okay, I'll go with innocent to be on the safe side. The holiest ones are typically the freakiest; they just manage to conceal it better than anybody else, so I really don't know. He is after all meant to be the Alpha of the "holier than thou" wolf. Mesa chuckles, cutting me off, "Another thing, Ava." "Be careful with his pack," I advise. "Why?" She claims that "they speak a different language in their minds." "You mean, the mind link?" Each member of a pack has the ability to communicate with the others in their heads, or they can choose to block it out. Particularly in smaller groups, it happens. We simply have too many members in my pack, and we've never had it, so we don't have it. Even still, I believe the Assassins would have benefited greatly from having this. That is true, yet it is different. When they communicate verbally, they do so in a different language or manner than when they do so mentally. Only those who have been connected to them since childhood may master it because it is extremely specialized and extremely old. As a result, most of them rarely speak aloud since they find verbal communication to be unusual and occasionally difficult. Mouth wide open, I say. I'm now certain that I'm being taken to a mental institution. A group in which nobody speaks? I must be dreaming, Moon; please devour me completely. I am Ava. Everything about this is a terrible nightmare. My point is that most of the time in that pack, you don't know what anyone is thinking because they won't say anything to you. I should have stayed in my pack, wooing rich mofos instead of trying to do some unique mission with the moon's pack. So take care. She looks me straight in the eyes when she says, "Just watch their eyes very intently. You're entering into terrain where if someone snuffs you out, everyone would probably know before you even think anything. I don't know what she's talking about since I can lie with my eyes really effectively; very few people can. When they made us Assassin trainees, they taught us how to do it as the very first thing. The advice to "don't let your eyes betray you" was shouted at me so frequently that it simply became a part of me. Mesa extended her hand to give me my ring. Never remove it. As soon as you do, your appearance will return to normal and they will recognize you. Therefore, keep this ring safe at all costs. I gave a head nod before putting the ring on. I stumbled to the floor as I did.