Chapter Four

Of all the ridiculous shit he’d ever heard.

Get a haircut, Reg.

Like, seriously? What the actual fuck? It wasn’t like Reg worked as a fashion model. Was it his fault his hair grew like nobody’s business? Or that the only barber in town left unexpectedly?

He wasn’t some dandy-Lion Shifter going to pieces over his hair, like those ridiculous males did all the freaking time. Lion males were such babies about their manes.

Not Reg. He was a Tiger Shifter and held a coveted position in the Nari’s private guard. He didn’t have time for this crap. And yet, there he was. Outside of some loud orange and pink salon called Cut It Out.

At least the name was cute, he thought. Reg growled, annoyed that he was even there. He hopped out of his blood red Jeep Wrangler XE Rubicon, with special modifications he’d ordered that were put in at a specialty Shifter-run auto shop.