They didn't believe me when I told them I definitely didn't look like those she-wolves from their disgusting magazine. They kept pushing, their curiosity turning into something darker—more dangerous.
"How do you expect us to believe you?" Travis said, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. His eyes gleamed with a mixture of excitement and challenge. "Prove it."
They wanted me to prove it. Prove I wasn't what they thought I was. And how exactly did they want me to prove it?
Undress.
I'd been here before—back to square one. When Desmond had commanded me to strip, I had almost run. This time, it wasn't Desmond, but the three of them. The wolves, the so-called "alpha kings," who were so damn obsessed with figuring out what I was.
"Show us then—your breasts," Travis added, like it was the most casual thing in the world, his voice low and filled with a sickening curiosity. "If they're as small as ours, we'll believe you're just a wolf, not a she-wolf."
