The Alpha Who Couldn't Love Me

006

Ayla's POV.

I knew it was past 8PM, but I couldn’t stay in that house one second longer.

I didn’t even bother with a jacket. Just slipped on my sneakers, grabbed my phone, and bolted out the front door before I could hear the creak of her bed again. That creak always came before the laughter. The stupid giggles. The moaning. Then the music turned up too loud to cover the rest.

My mom had another man over. Again.

I didn’t wait to find out which one. I never cared to learn their names anymore. They all smelled like cigarettes, cheap cologne, and too much sweat. They talked too loud. Took up space that wasn’t even theirs. One of them had once tried to touch my hair in the hallway. I’d shoved him and locked myself in my room until he left. Mom never said a thing.

I walked. I didn’t know where I was going. My stomach growled, but I ignored it. My legs ached from walking all the way from school earlier, but that didn’t matter either. As long as I was out of that house.

The night air stung my cheeks, but I kept going. The streets were quieter now. Some stores were closing. Others still had their lights on. A few couples walked past me hand in hand. I looked down. I didn't want to see what I couldn't have.

Then I saw it.

A small restaurant. The lights were warm. Not yellow, not too white. Just warm. The kind that made you feel like maybe the people inside didn’t hate their lives. The sign above read: “Gloria’s Kitchen.”

I stood at the window for a few seconds. There weren’t many people inside. Just two tables occupied. A man in a hoodie scrolling on his phone and a mother with two little kids eating what looked like spaghetti.

Inside, a plump woman with short grey curls stood behind the counter. She had her arms folded, leaning slightly on the register, watching one of her waitresses pick up empty plates. There were only two of them working. One of the girls looked exhausted.

I didn’t even think. I pulled open the door and walked in.

A soft bell above the door jingled.

The woman behind the counter turned to me. Her eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise.

“Kitchen’s closing in twenty minutes, sweetheart,” she said, not unkindly.

“I’m not here to eat,” I blurted.

She raised a brow, waiting.

“I... I need a job.”

I could hear how desperate I sounded. I hated that my voice cracked a little.

She blinked at me, then gave me a once-over. Not in a judgy way. More like she was sizing me up like a mom would.

“Do your parents know you’re out this late?” she asked, narrowing her eyes a little.

I swallowed. “My mom’s busy. I’m not gonna cause any trouble, I swear. I can clean. I can take orders. I can do dishes.”

She stared at me for a long beat. Then, she motioned for me to come closer. I stepped forward.

“What’s your name?”

“Ayla.”

“I’m Gloria. That’s my name on the sign.” She motioned toward it with a nod of her head. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen.”

“You in school?”

“Yes, ma’am. I just need a part-time job. After school. I can work all day on Saturdays too.”

She sighed and rubbed her chin, looking toward the kitchen. “Well, I was gonna start looking for someone to help out. Business is picking up a little since we reopened after the fire last year. Still tight on budget though. You sure you can handle both school and work?”

“Yes.” I didn’t even hesitate. “Please.”

She studied me again. “You look tired, kid.”

I gave a half-smile. “I am.”

She nodded slowly. “You start tomorrow after school. Four o’clock. You clean up tables, mop after close, and help take orders when it gets busy. We don’t do apps or those fancy QR codes here, so it’s all written down. Can you write clear?”

I nodded quickly.

She held up one finger. “One week trial. You’re late, you’re out. You rude to customers, you’re out. You show up with an attitude, I send you home. Deal?”

“Deal,” I said, trying not to sound too excited.

“Alright then.” She reached under the counter and handed me a worn black apron. “You’ll need this. And tie your hair back. Don’t want strands in people’s food.”

I took the apron carefully, like it was made of gold. For a second, I forgot the ache in my legs and the stinging in my throat. I forgot the sound of the bed creaking and the laughter I had run from.

I had a job.

It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t perfect. But it was mine.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

Gloria gave me a nod and a small smile. “Don’t thank me yet. Come on time tomorrow. Let’s see if you’re worth your salt.”

I walked out of that restaurant with the apron tucked under my arm and a real smile on my face.

The night air was cool on my face. For the first time in a long while, I felt something I hadn’t dared feel in years; hope. My wolf stirred inside me, nudging at the edges of my mind, her familiar voice weaving through my thoughts.

‘This is good. You’re doing something. You’re not just running anymore.’

I swallowed the lump rising in my throat and let myself walk a little taller, feeling that quiet strength settle in.

I wasn’t paying attention.

I didn’t see the figure coming toward me until…

Crash.

I bumped into someone hard enough to stumble back a step. Hands caught me before I could fall.

“Whoa, are you okay?” a voice asked, calm and steady.

I looked up into the face of a boy I didn’t know. Dark hair, sharp eyes, not the usual sneer or smirk I was used to when people looked at me.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, cheeks burning. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

He shook his head, waving it off. “It’s fine. You good?”

I stared at him, dumbfounded. Someone actually caring? Someone who didn’t look like they wanted to push me down or laugh? My throat tightened and all I could do was nod.

Without another word, I turned and started to walk past him, my heart pounding.

“Hey…wait,” he called after me.

I kept walking, hoping to disappear into the night.

‘Hey, you’re the one not looking where you’re going. Pretty clumsy, huh?’ In my head, my voice teased me like always, making it seem as though it was something the boy would've said.

I took a hard, hurtful hull and glanced back. He was watching me, his gaze was steady and unreadable.

There was something different about him. He wasn’t an omega or anyone I’d seen around school. He looked... strong. Different.