INDY
I was in the hallway, right where a large window was placed. A book about werewolves was perched on my lap as I sat on the thick edge of the pane. It was a book about werewolf heats, and it was making my head ache.
Fortunately, heats only affected Alphas and Omegas. Betas were still fertile, but they didn’t go through the usual cycle. They also smelled their mate’s scent but were not keen on anyone else’s.
It was clear that the Moon Goddess wrote Alphas and Omegas to become destined for one another. Why did I have to get stuck with an Alpha? My wolf grumbled inside me, and I pursed my lips. Right—I was the one who wrote this story.
I closed the book and was about to head down to the kitchen to grab a snack when I saw Rome’s car pulling up to the driveway. For some reason, I
