The buzzing sound of Reagan's phone vibrating on the nightstand wakes us both up with sleepy, groggy eyes. I lay back on the bed with a groan while he reaches for the phone and picks it.
"What?" His cold voice demands, and I could hear the irritation in his tone from being interrupted in his sleep.
I look up at him to see his eyebrows suddenly furrow as he listens to whatever the person on the other line was saying. His eyes shift to me then, and I stare at him in question while standing up to lay on my elbows behind me.
"I'll be there." He only says before ending the call and standing up in his sweatpants.
"What's going on?" I ask, watching him put on his shirt as if he was ready to go out. And it was only five in the morning!
"A nearby pack, Lotus Pack, was ambushed by a group of ro
