The Broken Alpha
Some – like Rose, Nearyn, and Lily’s mother – would eat the fruit straight from the trees, smiling all the while.
It was too early for the trees to bear fruit, but they were dotted with blossom: pinks and whites and pale oranges, speckling the barren branches with colour. Lily skirted around the edge of the clearing, the tug still pulling her forwards.
She stilled. Alpha Atticus was set in the very centre, his eyes closed against the sun. A whisper of a smile lit his lips, and the tilt of his head enhanced the already hard line of his jaw. Lily’s heart clenched, and she took a timid step towards him. The tug rejoiced, pushing her onwards.