The Broken Alpha
She reached for it, skin prickling, when it struck her.
“Say his name,” she said suddenly, holding her palm inches above his.
His face distorted into a grin. “What?”
“Say it. Who’s our – your – Alpha, dad?”
He froze, and then, a second too late, raised a collected eyebrow. “Alpha Att.”
“That’s not his whole name.” Drawing her hand away, realisation snapped into place. Bowstrings were not the only creatures Rose had warned her about, and many of them were far smarter than that which she’d already faced.