Fiona
Alpha.
I’ve heard that word before, but the time and place escape me.
“A poor human like you doesn’t deserve to know an Alpha. Actually,” she sneers, “You don’t deserve to breathe the same air as him.”
“What are you on about?” Isla asks, her anger growing.
“You have no right to tell me who I am allowed to know,” I tell the rich girl. She just stares like I’ve grown another head. Maybe I have, since I’m talking about something I don’t understand.
I glare at the woman, waiting for an explanation.
“Do you know who I am?”
“A spoiled brat who thinks throwing daddy’s money around will get her whatever she wants?” Isla asks, and I snicker.
The rich girl spins and snarls, “I’m better than dirty humans who don’t know their place.”
Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. This girl is
