Opal sank back into the soft mountain of pillows on her bed, her legs crossed under her, her shoulders finally relaxing. She was wrapped in her favorite pajama set—soft lavender shorts and an oversized silver t-shirt that hung loosely off one shoulder. Her silver hair was tied back in a messy bun, her violet eyes tired but still bright. I survived. I actually survived that party.
She sighed, leaning back, her head hitting the pillows as she let out a soft groan. "Why do parties have to be so exhausting?"
Before she could fully sink into the peace and quiet of her room, her door burst open, the hinges groaning as four figures tumbled inside.
Forrest was the first to flop onto her bed, his emerald eyes sparkling as he dramatically spread out like a starfish. "I think I aged ten years tonight."
Brooks followed, sliding in smoothly beside Forrest, his silver-gray eyes gleaming with mischief. "And I think I heard at least twenty Alphas say they were going to make Opal their Luna."
