Angela's eyes flew open. Her head spun so badly she wished she could close her eyes and sleep again. The memory of that strange dream rushed back—the one where she was a werewolf with a wolf side called Mighty Storm. It had felt so real that for a second, she truly believed it. She had been scared of what she saw, scared of what she had become. But thank the moon it was just a dream.
Wait. Why was she thanking the moon? She had never said anything like that before. That wasn't something normal for her.
She shifted, trying to sit up. But the surface under her back felt hard, not like the soft couch she remembered falling asleep on. She looked around and realized she had been lying on the floor the whole time. Her heart skipped. How did she get here?
