<h4>Chapter 672: A NEW LOOK!</h4>
"I think it’s time I get a new look, don’t you think?" Otto winked at me.
I stared at him nkly.
Then at the absurd sketch of him on the poster.
Then back at him again.
Despite the tension sitting heavy in my chest, a small, unwillingugh escaped me.
Otto frowned at me. "What is so funny."
But I went onughing.
He grumbled to himself something inaudibly until I wiped the tears off my eyes.
And the he smiled as though delighted I was happy and I could now forget my ordeal
It didn’t.
But still...
for a moment, it felt good to breathe.
He crumpled the posters and shoved them deep into his bag, ncing around the busy square with narrowed eyes.
"Jasmine," he murmured under his breath, "we shouldn’t linger here. Not with these posters out in the open."
I nodded, clutching my cloak tighter around myself.
We pushed back into the crowd, letting the press of people swallow us.
Merchants shouted prices. Wolves argued. Children darted between legs. Smoke curled from a nearby food stall, smelling of roasted herbs.
It felt chaotic.
Messy.
Alive.
Dangerous.
And yet I was drawn to it.
This was the very time had been allowed to such a market square.
Usually I was stuck in the moonlight pack or crescent pack and even in the royal pack.
But here I felt like I could live like anyone else.
Despite my excitement of a new ce, my gaze kept drifting to faces in the crowd, searching, paranoid, bracing for someone to recognize me.
Every wolf that looked at me made my stomach clench, even if they turned away.
"Take it easy Jasmine." Otto whispered. "If you look too worried it mighte off as suspicious."
I swallowed and tried my best to blend in
We walked for a few minutes before Otto suddenly stopped in front of a worn-out shack wedged between tworger buildings.
Above the entrance was a crooked sign that read:
"Thorn’s Alterations & Illusions — Quick Changes, No Questions."
He gave a smug smirk.
"Perfect."
I raised a brow.
"Are you seriously trying to get a makeover right now?"
He shrugged.
"You got one. It’s only fair."
"Mine wasn’t a makeover. Mine was a life-saving disguise."
"And mine will be too," he argued, tapping the sketch of himself for emphasis. "Jasmine, look at this. If someone thinks I look like this horse-faced criminal, I’m dead."
I tried my best to hold down a giggle.
He wasn’t wrong.
But I still hesitated, scanning the busy street behind us.
"Do you trust this ce?" I asked.
Otto nced at me, then at the crooked sign, then back at me.
"No," he said honestly. "But I trust us."
Before I could protest, he gently nudged me inside.
?
INSIDE THE SHOP
The interior smelled like dust, old leather, and some kind of metallic magic that made my skin tingle.
Clothes hung from every corner
travel cloaks, masks, scarves, enchanted trinkets, things I couldn’t name.
A short man with white eyebrows and no hair at all shuffled out from behind a beaded curtain.
He squinted at us suspiciously.
"What do you want?" he grumbled.
"A change," Otto said, crossing his arms. "Something quick. Something no one will recognize."
The man studied Otto’s face.
The man ignored himpletely and flicked his fingers.
A chest opened behind him, glowing faintly as strands of magic swirled around.
"What’ll it be?" the man asked. "Hair color? Scars? Change of scent? Different jawline? I can transform your whole face if you’ve got the coin."
Otto grinned over his shoulder at me.
"Well, Jasmine? Since we’re wanted ouws now... should I go blonde too?"
I sighed but couldn’t stop a small smile.
"You wouldn’t look good blonde."
He clutched his chest dramatically. "Ouch."
"What about brte?" I teased.
He gasped. "Even worse!"
The shopkeeper smiled. "Just give me the idea and then I’ll make wonders for you!"
Otto turned decisive.
"Cut my hair shorter, darken it, roughen up my jawline, and... maybe make me look a bit older?"
The man snapped his fingers.
"Done."
A golden shimmer passed over Otto’s body brief, warm, and blinding.
When it faded, i stared and blinked.
And stared again.
"Otto..." I whispered.
He looked nothing like himself.
His hair was now dark and slightly wavy, cut just above his shoulders.
His jaw looked sharper, his cheekbones more pronounced, and a faint scar ran across one eyebrow.
He looked like a rogue.
A wanderer.
Someone the old Otto could never pretend to be.
"Well?" he asked, spinning around. "Do I look dangerous?"
I shrugged, trying to hide my smile.
"You look like you get into bar fights often."
He smirked proudly. "Good."
And then he looked at a mirror before he nodded in confirmation.
~~~~~~
We paid the man, stepped back onto the street, and immediately felt the difference.
No one looked at us twice.
We were simply two more strangers in a town full of them.
But just as I let myself breathe, a gust of wind blew one of the wanted posters across our path.
My face.
My red hair.
My eyes.
I was truly wanted
Otto noticed my silence and nudged me gently.
"You okay?"
"No," I whispered honestly. "But I’m learning to live with it."
He exhaled slowly, then said, "Come on. Let’s find a ce to rest before we continue. We still have a long journey."
"How long?" I asked again.
"Two months," he repeated.
My heart dropped all over again.
Two months of running.
Two months of hiding.
Two months of searching for a family I wasn’t even sure existed.
Two months while carrying a child I hadn’t even processed yet.
But as terrifying as it was, For the first time in my life, the path ahead belonged to me.
"I can do it," I whispered, mostly to myself.
Otto gave a small smile.
"Yes. You can."
And we continued deeper into Sira’s Oak
two fugitives, a growing secret, and a future waiting to unfold.
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