Alpha Roan.
I pull into the golf course, the tires crunching over the gravel, and the first thing I see is Landon half-dragging, half-guiding Meluna toward the carts. She’s laughing…no, she’s howling like something is absolutely hilarious. Her head is tipped back, her hair’s a mess, and when her eyes meet mine, she starts cackling even harder.
“What the hell—” I start, but Landon’s already lifting his hands like he’s got no idea what’s happening.
“I think she got locked in a restroom and, uh…” He looks at her like she’s an alien species, one that’s apparently contagious because he can’t even explain her.
“Oops,” Cynthia examines her nails. “Don’t tell me the little lamb got into the spiked refreshments. I did tell the golf assistant to spike all the drinks for us.” My sister looks at
