"You'll be marrying the Alpha in seven days under the full moon," the woman declared.
"Excuse me?" Alana's voice cracked with disbelief, her face a mix of shock and confusion.
The woman stood tall, dressed in regal attire with an ornate crown perched on her head, her presence exuding authority. She was flanked by several imposing guards, their sharp, otherworldly features confirming Alana's suspicion—they weren't human.
They had stormed into her parents' house on an eerily quiet Friday night, just as Alana returned from an exhausting shift at work. Her body ached, and her mind buzzed with irritation. The last thing she needed was strangers spouting nonsense about marriage.
Rubbing her temples, she adjusted her glasses and straightened her posture. "I'm sorry, but I will not be marrying anyone. I don't know who you are or what you're talking about. Please leave before I'm tempted to call the cops—especially at this ungodly hour."
Her parents stood behind her, pinching her arms nervously, as if urging her to reconsider her words. Alana noticed their wide eyes darting to the sharp, gleaming swords the guards held.
"Insolence!" the woman snarled, her voice a guttural growl that sent chills racing down Alana's spine. "You think you, a mere mortal, can question the Alpha?"
Swallowing her unease, Alana crossed her arms. "Look, I don't have time for this. Whoever sent you, or if this is some elaborate prank, it's not funny. Just leave."
The woman's gaze darkened with disdain. "Why the Alpha would choose someone as weak as you over a pure-blooded Lycan is beyond me," she sneered. Then, turning on her heel, she swept out of the house, the guards trailing behind her. Her parting words echoed in the stillness: "Seven days."
Alana slammed the door shut and bolted it.
"You're getting married!" her mother blurted, her voice brimming with excitement.
"To the Alpha!" her father exclaimed. "Oh my God, this is monumental! All these years your mother and I spent researching werewolves, and now we find out they're real! And the Alpha wants to marry you!"
"This is incredible—a dream come true!" they squealed in unison, their enthusiasm borderline manic.
Alana cleared her throat, her irritation bubbling over. "I'm not marrying anyone! I'm twenty-two years old, and I refuse to tie myself to some stranger—werewolf or not. Seriously, are you two even my parents?" She stomped upstairs, slamming her bedroom door behind her.
Sliding down to the floor, she let out a shaky breath. "It's a joke, right?" she muttered, forcing a laugh.
"It has to be a sick joke," she said, but the unease in her chest refused to fade.
Shaking her head, she climbed into bed, wrapping herself tightly in her blanket. "I'll wake up tomorrow, and none of this will have happened."
But as she drifted into a troubled sleep, a nagging voice in the back of her mind whispered otherwise.