The Werewolf King's Bride

(From Blue's Perspective)

"Sleep, my love," Dem said groggily, running his fingers through my hair as I lay down beside him with my head on his chest.

"I can't."

"You cannot go to your workshop now," he said.

He had made me promise that I would not work tonight and sleep properly. How could I make him understand that it was making me restless and frustrated? He had no idea how I was feeling.

"A little bit won't hurt," I mumbled.

"No."

"Please."

"Blue, just sleep!" he said angrily this time.

"… Don't get angry at me…"

"I'm sorry," he said quickly and hugged me. "That wasn't my intention. I'm really sorry."

"Hm…"

I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. Within a few minutes, Dem's breathing steadied. He had fallen asleep. But I could not.

I tried to get up. Dem's hands grasped my waist tighter and pulled me down immediately.

"Dem…"

He flipped me over and I was on my back and he was on top of me.

"Stop it," he said threateningly.

"I can't… Dem… You don't understand!"

"Then make me understand, Blue! What is this? You need rest! All day, you were in your office working. You did not even let me take care of Dion. You did that too!"

"You had to go out. Dion is too little to go out, Dem!" I pointed out.

"Alright, let's say he should stay inside. But then, what about other things? You work all day and even at night, you don't sleep and go to your fucking workshop to work on the damn eye that I don't even need!"

My lips quivered and I tried to even my breathing. I could not stop. Why could he not understand it? It was not about resting. It was not about pushing myself. I just needed to do something.

In some way, I needed to use my power. I could not breathe when I did not use it.

I pushed him off by the chest and hastily got up. I had gotten sweaty and my hair was just all over my face, sticking to the sweat. I had never felt more annoyed.

"All this shit… Even my hair…"

I grabbed the dagger from the bedside table. There was never a shortage of weapons in our bedroom and my dagger was always there. Even though I was a dark mage, I still liked having the dagger. It was the dagger Dem had given me.

"Blue!"

Without listening to Dem, I held my hair with one hand and slashed the dagger through my hair. It fell with a sharp noise.

I had cut as much as my heart desired with one swift motion. Dem got up too and took the dagger from me and threw it on the floor.

"What's…?"

"It's too hot," I shrugged.

"That doesn't mean you would just cut your hair… that way…"

I touched my hair and measured it should be shoulder length now, or maybe a little shorter than that. I did not feel anything. I never liked my hair anyway.

"Why? Am I not beautiful anymore?" I asked.

"I never said that," he said. He was struggling to talk. Maybe he did not know what to say to his crazy wife. He hugged me instead. "You could have just gotten your hairstylist to do it for you."

"I couldn't wait until morning," I said. It was more like a sudden desire. Maybe because I was feeling restless, I had to do something, no matter how crazy or baseless it was.

"Oh, baby… What will I do with you?"

"Just listen to me," I said. "I am going crazy, Dem. I am losing my mind. Something is happening to me… I can feel it… You have to let me work. Or, I will lose it… I am losing my sanity… My power, it wants to break free. It wants to do something."

"Or, I fear it might explode someday," I added in a whisper.

Dem had hugged me the whole night. At some point, I fell asleep.

The next morning, the first thing I did was call my hairstylist to get a haircut. In the end, because I cut it in a weird way without following any rules, my hair had to be cut a lot. In the end, my hair was like a wavy bob haircut that barely covered my nape.

"Wow, I look different," I observed myself in the mirror. Because of my insanity, my visual had changed overnight. However, I looked more like a fighter this way, than a Queen. Who cared about that though? Surely, if I just put the tiara on, I was the Queen once more. A haircut could never change my title.

"I had to cut a lot," the hairstylist said.

"You did a good job. I think I look better," I said. Truly, I felt like I looked better this way.

She took her leave. The maids were trying to discuss what hairstyle would suit my new hair.

"Do you like it?" I asked my son who was just a little more than one month. He only groaned a little.

I picked him up from his crib and took him in front of the mirror, holding him with one arm, while supporting his head and neck properly.

"Good morning, Your Highness," the maids said almost at once.

Dem was standing in the doorway. He watched me for a few seconds without saying anything before walking in with slow, confident steps. I always wondered how he could do it. But now, I could almost do it as good as him. It was all about knowing your value.

The maids bowed and left as Dem waved them off without looking at them.

He touched my hair gently.

"Do I look good?" I asked. What if he did not like my haircut?

"You look… wild and sexy," he muttered. I almost thought he was lying, if I did not know how to read his eye. He kissed my hair and then stood behind me. He stared into the mirror as he hugged me and Dion with his huge arms. Dion and I could contain in his arms just fine.

"I thought you would not like it."

"Why won't I? You look beautiful," he said. "Actually, more than beautiful, sexy and hot should be the words to describe you now. In my eyes, you are always beautiful, hot, sexy, everything at once. In others' eyes, however, I think you will be hot and sexy more now."

"Must be because I am," I chuckled.

"You are," he agreed.

"… I have grown really confident, no?"

"With beauty like yours, anyone should be," he said and kissed the side of my neck.

But I knew it was not because of my beauty. Power made me confident. Power made me realize my value. Without my power, I was nothing. Even if it was hard to accept, I truly loved my power.

"Anyway, I am glad you like my new hair," I said. "If someone doesn't like it, their loss. I look really hot."

He laughed. "Yeah, you do. Way hotter than the sun."

"Too cheesy."

"That's why I prefer actions over words. Actions are never cheesy."