Chapter 1: The four, bad wolves.
The heavens are furious today–at least, that's what I think as I watch the rain slick the streets of Seattle down from the windows of Hot Brew, the little coffee shop that had been signing my paychecks for the past two years.
I wipe down the table with an exhausted sigh, more than ready to call it a day. My plans for the rest of the evening involve going back to my cramped apartment and curling up with a book and a hot drink. Nights in Seattle are charged, brimming with were tension. Humans like me learn to keep our heads down and stay out of their way. Slinging lattes isn't my dream job–far from it–but Hot Brew is neutral ground. The werewolves rarely come around and the ones that do, do not pay any attention to me.
Invisibility is a cloak I have to wear for my safety.
Sometimes, however, that cloak gets peeled back and I'm left exposed. Vulnerable. Prey.
Just like tonight.
The hairs on the back of my neck tingles with anxiety when raucous laughter rents the air. I scrub at the table harder, eyes unseeing, muttering any and every prayer I can't think of.
I want them to leave. Sadly, they don't seem like they're going anywhere.
Four wolves from one of the numerous packs in downtown Seattle have been occupying the corner booth for hours now. From the moment they had walked in, I'd felt their eyes on me like an unwanted touch–it made me feel dirty.
The looks had transformed into comments; teasing, the kind people like me had to grin and bear.
And grin and bear, I did. When they had called me "Sweet, little thing," I'd smiled and offered to take their orders. When they had wondered "how my human mouth" would taste, I'd quietly refilled their mugs. When they had conversed loudly about how my uniform sat just right on me, I'd pretended not to hear them.
I can't pretend anymore. After hours is here, the shop emptied and their ability to keep their hands to themselves goes right out the window.
"Come top me off, Sweetheart." A voice calls over to me and I wince, gaze still on the table I'd been rigorously cleaning for the past twenty minutes.
"I'm sorry," I respond in a demure voice, still not looking up. "But we're about to close."
"Just one more, then we'll go, I promise." They all snicker at that, the sound heightening my nerves.
Bracing myself, I grab a half-full jar of coffee and finally, finally turn to them.
And I'm still not prepared for just how big and loud they really are.
They watch me as I approach their booth on shaky legs, their gazes leering.
Just as I reach over to fill a mug, the bearded behemoth who appears to be their leader, brushes an open hand over my waist. I jerk at the unexpected touch, almost spilling hot coffee, and that is when his large paw closes over my wrist.
"Let me go, please." My heart thuds as I struggle to get the words out my mouth.
"Oh come on, Sweetheart," he growls as his grip further tightens. "We just wanna play. Don't you wanna play with us?"
It hits me then, just how much trouble I'm in.
His hungry gaze sweeps over my face as his tongue darts out to wet his lower lip.
My heart free falls into my stomach.
"Leave me alone!" My voice trembles and I internally curse myself for showing weakness. Weres like him get off on the smell of fear.
All that meets my request is cruel laughter. Beard yanks me closer, pressing his nose against the side of my face and inhaling deeply. I squeeze my eyes shut to stem the flow of tears threatening to run down my cheeks.
"No can do, baby. Now, shut up and bend over for me like a good girl, will you?" He growls, expecting me to fold over and do just that.
But I refuse to. Rage simmers low in my belly until it becomes a consuming fire, burning down any trace of fear or common sense in its path. Hot Brew is my turf, where I feel the most safe. I'm not about to let these overgrown bullies take it away from me.
"I said let. Me. Go!" I cry before bringing my knee up and ramming it into his groin with all the strength I can muster.
He grunts in pained surprise and immediately releases me to cup his injured groin. His minions all gape at me and a rush of satisfaction floods my veins.
However, it doesn't last. He forcefully stands, sending his chair careening backwards.
"You little b***h!" He looms over me, face twisted in a brutal frown, a hand raised and ready to slap me. "You're going to regret doing that!"
