LYRA
I woke up to Willow throwing a pillow at my face.
"Ow!" I sat up, glaring at her. "What was that for?"
"You were smiling in your sleep," she said, perched on the edge of her bed with her arms crossed. "Which means you were dreaming about him."
Heat crept up my neck. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Uh-huh." She grinned. "So which one was it? The cold, brooding Alpha King? Or the hot, dangerous rogue?"
"Willow—"
"I'm betting on the rogue," she continued, clearly enjoying this. "You have that look."
"What look?"
"The 'I got swept off my feet by a bad boy' look."
I grabbed the pillow and threw it back at her. She dodged, laughing.
"I hate you," I muttered.
"No you don't."
She wasn't wrong.
"She's perceptive," Sky said, amused.
“Stay out of this.” I said, replying
