Early Morning Riser Novels & Stories

Lillium Roosevelt I woke up to the sharp, relentless buzz of my alarm clock drilling through the early morning stillness. Groaning, I fumbled blindly across the nightstand, my fingers knocking over a pen and a phone charger before finally landing on the clock’s snooze button. I pressed it harder than necessary, as if sheer force would make the noise stop faster.

Noah The alarm went off at 6:15, same as always, but for the first time in a long time, I didn’t hit snooze because I was tired — I hit it because I didn’t want to get up at all. Usually, Tuesday mornings were easy. Routine.

Pearl Gem I had set my alarm for seven a.m even though I was naturally an early riser. I just couldn’t take any chances, not when the enemies were waiting to say to His Majesty, “I told you so.” But it wasn’t the alarm that woke me. It was the knock on the door. The omegas from next door had come, each bringing advice or a gift. Some brought breakfast, others energy drinks so early in the morning.

Xander BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. I rose from my slumber, silencing the persistent alarm which indicated it was 5 am. Just another day. I roll out of bed, stretching my body with a satisfying pop of joints and a flex of muscles. The routine is familiar. Off to the bathroom to attend to nature’s call, then into my workout attire. A protein smoothie prepares me for the upcoming regimen. As I lace up my running shoes, the call of the pack territory beckons, and I run to make sure the patrol is in place.

TREASURE When morning comes, I'm the first one awake. Which is shocking because I'm not a morning person. I'm barely an afternoon person. I'm more of an "don't talk to me until I've had coffee and made three life-altering decisions" person. But today, my body apparently decided to wake up at the ungodly hour of... I check the clock... seven AM. Six. In the morning. This is a hate crime against sleep. I quietly slip out of bed, careful not to wake Winter, and tiptoe to the bathroom like a ninja. A very injured ninja who moves like she's eighty years old.

Ever since Ginni 's passing, I've grown accustomed to awakening early, whether through my own volition or by the gentle nudging of others. I started my day by waking up early to ensure I have enough time to prepare myself. This routine involved taking a refreshing bath and getting dressed. However, if I didn't have any important meetings scheduled, I often dedicated some time to working out. Engaging in physical activity served as a great stress reliever for me, allowing me to temporarily escape from the pressures of life.

Another groan left my lips out of anger. I was never a morning person, even though I am a nurse; it's always hard to wake up early. As I grumbled my way out of bed, I noticed the bright sun shining through my curtains, signaling that it was already late morning. I looked at the time on my phone and realized I had slept through my alarm and was now running late for my flight. Great start to the day.

“Tired?” "Yeah, I’m not a morning person…” I yawn. “How can you be up so early?” "It's eleven am." He deadpans. "My question remains," I smirk. “Well…let’s see… I get up early because I’m a responsible grownup with a job, unlike somebody else if she keeps waking up at eleven am.” I gasp in disbelief. “You wouldn’t fire me if I showed up late, right? I’m still getting used to waking up this early! Please, you can’t fire an old childhood friend!”

Exhausted 🔥🔥🔥 The next morning, I woke up very early to leave. Despite struggling to fall asleep and barely getting any rest, I managed to rouse myself and be ready by 5:30 a.m. The bed was empty beside me, which made me wonder where he had gone. Wait a minute—what was his name again? The realization struck me like a cold wave.

Ezekiel's POV I woke before the others. That wasn't unusual — I'd always been an early riser, the kind of person whose mind begins its work before the rest of the world has decided to participate. But this morning was different. This morning I lay still for longer than I normally would, looking at the ceiling, turning the decision over.