"Miss, time to get up."
The next morning, while Marcus still had his arms around the beautiful woman sleeping beside him, Chloe pushed open the bedroom door and stepped inside, only to find that Anya had not gotten up yet.
"Ah!"
A startled gasp escaped her. Clothes were scattered across the carpet, and on the large white bed, her noble and breathtakingly beautiful mistress was sleeping peacefully in the arms of a strong, muscular man. Anya was nestled comfortably against Marcus's chest, one arm draped around his neck, a faint smile resting on her face as though she were having the sweetest dream.
For a brief moment, Chloe found herself staring at the scene. The two of them looked perfectly suited for one another, so natural together that it was hard not to feel a little envious. Then her expression changed.
'The Phoenix Cry.'
The thought struck her like a bolt of lightning.
"Miss!"
She hurried toward the bed, panic rising in her chest. How could this have happened?
