CHAPTER 55

Being in a female form wasn’t entirely what
Dorian had expected.
The way he walked, the way he moved his
hips and legs—strange. So disconcertingly
strange. If any of the Crochans had noticed a
young witch amongst them pacing in circles,
crouching and stretching her legs, they didn’t
halt their work as they readied the camp to
depart.
Then there was the matter of his breasts,
which he’d never imagined to be so ...
cumbersome. Not unpleasant, but the shock of
bumping his arms into them, the need to