Escaping with the Alpha
Bella Hamiltonmated to my alpha adoptive brotherclaimed by my bestie's alpha daddybullied by my alpha stepbrothermy alpha step-brother is my bully
she said, placing her palms against the tree trunk.
Before I had time to ponder what that meant, the tree began to creak, its branches and leaves rustling and shaking. Josh leapt backwards and pulled me away from the tree with him. It couldn’t be. It was. The tree’s large, heavy branches were moving in front of us, bending and twisting as they lowered to the ground.
“Climb aboard, my darlings,” said Olive.
Josh and I shared a look - neither of us had any idea what had just happened. Were we safe, or was this some kind of new trap? Nothing I’d read about dryads had mentioned they could command their trees as though they were made of rubber instead of solid wood.
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