The Alpha’s Surgeon

8

We hadn’t even made it three blocks toward the café before trouble found us again.

Because apparently, the universe loved testing my patience when I was low on caffeine.

Aspen trotted happily ahead, tail bouncing, while Del scrolled through her phone beside me. Behind us, I could hear Trey and Elijah’s low conversation—following at a comfortable distance like they were half-watching us, half-giving us space. Trey’s steps were steady and unhurried. Elijah’s quieter, but every bit as present.

“You think they’ll have beignets?” Del asked dreamily. “If they don’t, I’m gonna cry.”

“Coffee first,” I muttered. “Then pastry. In that order. Or someone’s going to get their feelings hurt.”

Del laughed under her breath—right before a familiar, grating voice cut through the morning air.

“Well, look who it is. The mouthy one and her friend.”

I froze mid-step and bit back a groan.

Of course.

The diner rejects from last night.

Two local wolves—still smelling like cheap aftershave and bruised egos—swaggered toward us again. Thick grins, oily confidence, and apparently zero survival instinct.

Del’s shoulders slumped. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

The taller one aimed a smirk at me. “Didn’t get to finish our talk last night. How about a do-over? Dinner, drinks—maybe a run under the moon?”

“Run?” I repeated flatly, blinking once. “Yeah, sure. How about you run far, far away, and I’ll time you?”

His grin faltered. “No need to be rude, sweetheart—”

That word—sweetheart—was the last straw.

Between the crash, the leash, and the lack of caffeine, my patience had officially evaporated.

I took one slow, deliberate step forward, planting my hands on my hips. “Okay, listen carefully, because I’m running on fumes and I don’t repeat myself before coffee. You see this leash?” I held it up. Aspen barked once like my hype man. “That’s my dog. He’s better company than you’ll ever be. You see that corner?” I pointed across the street. “That’s where you can go shove your pickup lines and whatever’s left of your dignity.”

Del snorted, failing miserably to hide her laugh.

But I wasn’t done. “And if either of you ever calls me sweetheart again, I will personally reprogram your phones so every time you open them, it says ‘Try Again, Loser.’ Got it?”

The shorter one blinked. “You’re kind of scary, you know that?”

“Good,” I snapped. “Now go away before I start testing my limits.”

They hesitated—because idiots never knew when to stop.

Then a low voice rolled in from behind us.

“Problem here?”

Trey.

That calm, steady tone wasn’t loud, but it hit like a warning bell. Elijah stood slightly behind him, arms crossed, expression carved from granite, eyes sharp and assessing.

Both radiated Alpha energy, the kind that made instincts kick hard.

The taller wolf swallowed. “Uh—no problem, man. Just talking.”

“Doesn’t look like she wants to talk,” Elijah replied evenly. Not raised. Not aggressive. Just… final.

Aspen barked once, stepping closer like he was officially part of Team Intimidation.

The two wolves wilted under the pressure, stepping back, then stumbling away like they suddenly realized they liked breathing.

Silence lingered until Del burst into laughter. “Okay, I’m not saying I enjoy watching men panic, but that was deeply satisfying.”

Trey’s mouth twitched—just slightly. “Guess we were already headed the right way.”

I huffed, dragging a hand through my hair. “I swear, I attract idiots like sugar attracts ants.”

Elijah gave a tiny, amused grunt. “From what we’ve seen, you repel them just fine.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, “I’m a delight before coffee.”

Trey’s eyes flicked to me, lingering, curious. “Guess we’ll have to test that theory.”

I raised a brow. “You volunteering as tribute?”

The smile he gave me was slow, dangerous, and far too handsome. “Maybe.”

Del groaned loudly, walking ahead toward the café. “God help us all. Rae does not need another reason to burn something down.”

“Only if someone deserves it!” I shot back, guiding Aspen forward.

Trey fell into step beside me this time, Elijah behind him. The air around us shifted—charged, warm, humming with something I didn’t have a name for.

I didn’t say it out loud, but I felt Trey’s eyes on me the whole walk.

And for once… I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to stop.