Prologue

Emma

"Ugh!" I groan, sleep still heavily pulling me under as the alarm goes off. I feel like I'd just gotten to sleep and my discontent is muffled into the pillow. My bed is snug and warm, and the air is so cold that I really, really don't want to get out of my comfy cocoon.

Beep, beep, beep.

I lazily pick up the handheld device so hell-bent on yelling at me and hit snooze by accident. Gritting my teeth, I toss it on the nightstand. My head hits the pillow and I almost let sleep pull me back under, but then I remember what day it is. Instantly, my mind wakes with excitement.

I've waited years for a lead and I finally got one. Wasting no time on the wish for sleep, I race to my closet and grab the first pair of jeans and tank top I can get my hands on. There are at least two werewolves hunting on land only an hour away from here according to a reputable source. I squeal internally as I dig in the pile of shoes for the only pair of sneakers I own. I'm going to need them so I can hunt down these shifters.

The alarm goes off again while I'm grabbing my toothbrush and I don't mind the relentless beeping in the least. I smile as I turn it off and slip my phone into my back pocket. The only other object on my nightstand is an empty picture frame and looking at it makes my smile slip. My boss and the head of The Daily Tribune gave it to me for Christmas. I was going to put a picture of my parents in it, but that's too damn depressing to have to look at first thing in the morning. I cringe and lay the frame flat. I'll get back to that later. I have other things to focus on today. Hopefully much happier things that require my attention.

I've been working on this petition for nearly a year. It's something my parents felt strongly about as well, and that alarming offering at Shadow Falls screwed everything up for me. I know there's far more to the werewolves than the Authority lets on. And now everyone's convinced that shifters are nothing but vicious beasts who take whatever and whoever they want and do God knows what with them. The rebellion is growing, and my petition has lost its following. No one wants to combine our worlds. They want the shifters and other paranormal beings to have even less access. Ideally none at all.

It's a shame that a single incident could cause such an uproar and put all of my work into question. But I'm going to prove that werewolves are just like us. Well more like us than we're led to believe.

It's not hard to imagine the beasts with their broad shoulders and towering frames. They're the epitome of lust and power. Forbidden and dangerous and therefore the most delightful temptation. Their dark eyes haunt me in the most delicious way. I've seen the way they touch the women and imagined myself on the stage. Being chosen. Offered, taken, and claimed. My core heats as the fantasy plays in my head. I snap my eyes open and cringe. I really need to get more AA batteries. My poor BOB (battery operated boyfriend) must be missing me. Silently laughing and then cringing at my joke, I have to admit how depressing my social life has become. Besides, I have been offered before and I wasn't chosen. It's a sad truth, but I'm not meant to belong to them. It doesn't mean we can't share the same world though.

I grab my keys and my backpack. Taking one last look at my nearly empty loft, I close the door and pray I can catch up to the werewolves. I need to record something, anything, to convince the world that the division we've created is causing more harm than good.