You Shot Your Own Grandmother, Alpha Heir
My grandma and I were on a perfect beach in Golden Bay. The sun warmed my skin, the sand was soft beneath my feet, and she was resting peacefully nearby.
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my mind. A mind link.
It was Brenda. Assistant to my mate, Gideon, the Alpha Heir.
The image she sent was horrifying. An old woman in simple clothes, lying in a pool of her own blood. Deep gashes, down to the bone, from a silver-laced weapon.
Brenda's voice echoed in my head, dripping with arrogance.
“Cora, do you Omegas do anything but freeload?”
“Gideon just bought this estate, and you’re already letting your pack-leeching relatives squat here? As the Alpha’s assistant, it's my duty to protect his land
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