Lycan's Prey by Jessica Hall

Chapter 81

The beautician, a cheerful woman with bright pink nails and an even brighter smile, ushers me toward the door of a room out the back. I glance desperately towards the front, contemplating a swift escape, but Maribel has already settled comfortably in the waiting area with a magazine.

As she shuts the door, she tells me to sit down while she prepares the wax.

“Queen Maribel said you have an unusual hair situation, that werewolves have some strange anomaly us Lycans don’t?” she asks, perplexed. Great, just what I need. Thanks Soren!

“No, I shaved already,” I tell her lifting my pant leg, she looks confused when she glances at my legs.

“Oh, you’re already quite smooth, dear. No need for a leg wax then,” she remarks.

“But,” she continues, her smile unfaltering, “since the session. is already paid for, we can move on to the Brazilian instead.”

My heart drops. “Brazilian?” I echo, my voice rising in panic.

“Yes, dear. Queen Maribel insisted you should experience the full package,” the beautician explains as if a Brazilian wax is a leisurely stroll in the park.

“It’s all paid for, dear! Just relax and enjoy,” she calls out, giving me a thumbs up.

the beautician into the designated

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As I lie down on the waxing table, my mind races with apprehensions about the impending pain and the sheer awkwardness of the situation.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Think of it as… preparation for the wedding night!” she chirps, apparently trying to make light of

but internally, I’m screaming. As she prepares the wax, I close my eyes, trying to think of anything but what she is about to do.

Why didn’t I go bald eagle? Instead, I’m going to be spread eagle on her damn table. I step out of my underwear and slip onto the table. I twiddle my thumbs as she wanders over and assesses me. She purses her lips. “I was expecting

spreads the wax on my skin and then places the fabric strip, smoothing it down. She chatters away happily

eyes bulge, and I know she must have pulled skin off. I glance down, finding the skin raw and angry, but my vulva is

Chapter 81

she prepares. another dollop of wax. “Clean as a whistle,” she hums, spreading the wax liberally, tugging my thighs further apart like she’s opening the gates to some sort of torturous amusement park.

wave of panic setting in as I feel the wax smear in a dangerously low region. I slap

this is your first time,” the beautician teases, clearly enjoying this far too

from behind my hand barricade. I’m going to kill him. Soren

my hands gripping the table like it’s the only thing keeping me grounded in a world that has clearly lost

I can’t look. I’m pretty sure I’m one