Jayla White didn't believe in early mornings, especially not after a night spent fueled by spite and the ink-stained fantasies of dark romance novels. She had stayed up until 2:00 AM, the glow of her e-reader the only light in her apartment as she devoured a story about a woman who burned a kingdom down to find her own throne. By the time her eyes finally fluttered shut, she wasn't just tired; she was inspired.
When she finally drifted awake at 11:00 AM, the sun was aggressively poking through the slats of her blinds. She didn't rush. A hunter doesn't rush the morning of the kill.
