Alpha Logan
It smelled delicious, but everything she cooks smells fantastic.
“Thank you, Mrs. Carmichael,” I nodded to her as she filled the glasses with water. “You are most welcome, Alpha,” she smiled softly. Mrs. Carmichael was a grandmother-like figure around the pack, especially here in the packhouse. When he was a boy, she was my father’s nanny, helping his mother, Luna Jessica, keep him out of trouble.