HAZEL
The knocking started softly.
Then it got louder and even sharper. Each rap against the door felt like it was trying to drill through my skull.
I peeled my eyes open and immediately regretted it. The ceiling swam above me, unfocused and too bright, even with the curtains drawn. My sheets clung to my skin, soaked with sweat, and pooled in every crease and hollow.
Another knock came, and it was even more insistent than the last.
"Miss Hazel?"
Laslo's voice filtered through the wood. I tried to sit up, and the room tilted to the side. My nightgown stuck to my back and thighs, damp and uncomfortable in ways that made my skin crawl.
"Miss Hazel, I hope you can hear me. Alpha Lysander requests your presence in thirty minutes."
I pushed myself upright. The movement sent a wave of heat rolling through my chest. It settled low in my stomach. No. That's not right. Why did it feel so wrong? My skin prickled. I pressed my palm to my forehead and found it burning.
