Serayah Morgan.
Seven hours. Seven hours of rules and regulations. Seven hours of being told what it means to be a Royal Luna like I’m some child who doesn’t know how to sit up straight.
For more than half of those torturous hours, my mind drifts back to him. Roar. He hates me I know that. But why does a wolf who hates me react with such possessiveness? If all he wants to do is shame me, what happened earlier in the counselling room is enough to do that but for some reason, he became a gentleman and removed his shirt to cover me. To cover what he had already bestowed his eyes upon.
I’ve replayed it over and over, trying to make sense of it. And every time, my cheeks burn hotter.
The instructors noticed my daydreaming—of course, they did.
“Straighten your shoulders, Luna!” The cane-wi
