Raisel’s POV

“Wakey… wakey, my Raisins,” came a teasing voice that dragged me unwillingly out of sleep. I groaned and yanked the covers over my head, shielding myself from the light.

“Shh…” I mumbled groggily.

“Raisins, you’ll be late for the office.” The nickname grated on my nerves, but before I could retaliate, the sheets were ripped off me. I groaned again, reluctantly meeting his hazel eyes. A sharp headache made me wince, and I squinted in pain.

“What ...