The Alpha’s Surgeon

9

The bell above the café door jingled softly as we stepped inside, the scent of fresh espresso and baked sugar washing over us like a promise.

“Finally,” I breathed, dragging a hand over my face. “Caffeine, come to mama.”

Del laughed, shaking her head. “You sound like an addict.”

“Correction,” I said, already scanning the pastry case like it held the secrets of the universe. “I’m a survivor.”

Behind us, Trey and Elijah followed, drawing a few curious looks from nearby customers. Both of them had that kind of quiet, commanding presence that made people take notice—broad shoulders, unbothered confidence, and enough energy to make the air feel heavier.

The barista gave us a bright smile. “What can I get you all?”

Before I could even open my mouth, Trey’s voice came from just behind my shoulder. “She’ll take the largest coffee you’ve got. Black. And one of those chocolate croissants.”

I blinked up at him, halfway between surprise and suspicion. “How do you know my order?”

He gave a small shrug, that almost-smile ghosting across his lips. “Lucky guess. You look like you don’t do cream or patience.”

Del snorted so loudly the barista had to stifle a laugh. “Oh my god, that’s accurate.”

I narrowed my eyes at him but didn’t argue as Trey handed his card to the barista before I could protest.

“Hey!” I said, elbowing him lightly. “You don’t have to pay for my caffeine addiction.”

“Too late,” he said easily, sliding his card back into his wallet. “Consider it hazard pay—for almost getting into another fight before breakfast.”

“Almost?” I muttered. “If they hadn’t backed off, it would’ve been an incident.”

“Yeah,” he said, tone low and amused. “That’s what I figured.”

Next to us, Elijah leaned over the counter slightly, nodding toward Del. “She’ll take a caramel latte and… one of those raspberry tarts, right?”

Del blinked. “How do you—”

He smirked, cutting her off. “Lucky guess.”

Rae shot her a grin. “You attract the smug ones, huh?”

Del rolled her eyes but her cheeks flushed faintly pink. “Don’t start, Rae.”

We found a corner table, the light filtering soft and golden through the front window. I wasted no time unwrapping my croissant and inhaling deeply. “Oh, this is going to fix everything wrong with the world.”

Del sat across from me, sipping her latte with a grin. “You know, most people eat their pastries. You’re inhaling it like it owes you rent.”

I scowled mid-bite. “Don’t judge me. I’ve had a morning.”

“She’s not wrong,” Trey said, leaning back in his chair, coffee in hand, eyes amused. “I’ve seen wolves less aggressive during a hunt.”

Elijah smirked. “I was about to say the same thing.”

I swallowed and glared at them both. “Keep it up, and I’ll start throwing crumbs. You two look like you’d fold fast under pastry-based warfare.”

Del giggled so hard she nearly spilled her latte. “Pastry warfare—oh my god, I can’t—”

“Don’t encourage her,” Trey said, but there was warmth under the warning.

Aspen, settled under the table, gave a low huff, tail flicking lazily.

“See? Even Aspen knows I’m right,” I said smugly.

Elijah raised a brow. “He’s probably hoping you’ll drop food.”

I froze mid-bite. “…That’s fair.”

Del leaned back, eyes twinkling. “You realize we’re all watching you like you’re some kind of breakfast spectacle, right?”

“Let them,” I said, licking a trace of chocolate from my thumb. “At least I’m the only one who’s actually enjoying herself.”

Trey’s gaze lingered a second too long, amusement melting into something quieter, more curious. “Yeah,” he said finally, his voice low enough that it barely reached across the table. “I can see that.”

Del kicked me lightly under the table, mouthing wow.

I ignored her, pretending to focus on my coffee even as my pulse betrayed me, steady but fast.

For once, I didn’t have a comeback.