It was Saturday—the long-awaited day… and everything already felt wrong.
Soft music filled the chamber as Emma opened her eyes, only to wish she hadn't. She pulled the duvet higher, letting the sound wrap around her like a lullaby instead of a wake-up call.
"Moonrise, Alpha's mate," Mrs. Thompson said softly. She had overslept again… and the thought unsettled her more than it should have.
She turned slightly, sinking deeper into the bed.
Lately, getting up felt like a battle she kept losing, and it frustrated her more than she wanted to admit.
Mrs. Thompson walked to the other side of the bed and pointed at the wall clock.
She looked up—and in an instant, the sleep vanished from her eyes. Panic surged through her veins. She tossed the duvet aside and sprang out of bed, her heart racing. She didn't want to be late again. Not today. Not when everything already felt slightly out of control.
She tossed the duvet aside and sprang out of bed, her heart racing.
