We stare in stunned silence—equal parts awe and alarm—as the mystery girl lands gracefully on the grass outside my office window, wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt.
“Did she just jump out of her bedroom window?” Oliver’s voice breaks the stillness, a note of disbelief lacing his words.
“What happened to her shorts?” Sam adds, brow arched, the bemusement in his tone barely masking his curiosity.
“Alpha?” Oliver turns to me, uncertain. “Shouldn’t we stop her before she gets hurt?”
The trance shatters.
Snapping out of whatever spell this wild, half-dressed rogue has cast over me, I bolt from the office, Sam and Oliver close at my heels. We crash through the back door and spill into the garden, just in time to see her sprinting barefoot toward the trees.
“STOP!” I roar, channeling
