Page 17 of Her Destined Alpha
Why? Just why did he have to come here to my workplace?
I hadn’t been able to sleep the night before. All I could do was replay everything he said and did… I hated how he confused me and the way my heart reacted to him.
I knew there were rare cases where witches and werewolves had been mated. Most ended in the witch being used and rejected. The very thought made me sick. I had actually thought he’d leave and not just come back to annoy me.
I think it’s time to leave.My heart clenched at the thought. Great… just great, one more person to run from. The way he had attacked the man next to him, the anger I had seen in his eyes… I shuddered. I hated werewolves. I had been a punching bag for them for long enough.
Even after I ran away from Lilly and Alfred’s cottage, I had run into more trouble. Werewolves. When they found out I was a witch… I pushed the memories away; the pain of those memories was crippling me. They had used me for entertainment, as their personal target practice. That month had been one of the darkest moments of my life. I often wondered which part of my life was the worst: the Warden, Endora, or the werewolves?
“Ana? All okay, love?” Gwen’s voice came from behind me. I looked up, realising I had spaced out.
“Yeah, of course.”
“Are you sure? You just stormed away from that group. Did they do something?”
“They aren’t ready to order yet,” I whispered quietly.Oh great, now I sound like a weak, scared girl. I forced a smile. “I’m okay, seriously. I just need to speak to Coleen.”
“Oh, are you sure you’re okay? If it’s those boys, do you want me to go speak to them? You’re a beautifulgirl, love, of course they’re all going to try to chat you up. Don’t take any notice of them.” There it was again, someone thinking I was pretty. That was a joke in itself. I shook my head.
“No need to speak to them, it’s not about them.”
I got back to work, attending to the other two regulars who had come in. I didn’t miss one of the shifter women walking over to the counter to place their orders. Did I feel a little bad about not serving them? Not really.
“Looking beautiful, Snow!” Old Jack said when I placed his hot, steaming mug of tea in front of him.
“Thank you, you look very handsome yourself,” I replied with a small smile.
Jack had lost his wife a few years ago, and since then, I heard from the others that he always came here, saying the tea and apple pie made by our cook Macy was the closest to his wife’s.
“Thank you, I do think so myself. It’s the shave,” he said, patting his cheek.
“Oh, I think so too. You suit it, I’m glad you got it trimmed. How are the aches and pains?” I asked as I sliced the apple pie for him.
Jack had a neurological disorder that made him shake excessively. Some days it wasn’t as bad, but on others, it was worse. When I first started working here, I saw him struggle to slice the pie. When I asked Axel why no one helped him, he said they didn’t want to offend him. So, I had taken it upon myself to help. I didn’t mind him getting angry at me as long as it helped him.
He had complained a little, but I had simply sliced it and walked away. It was now a silent agreement between us, he didn’t complain nor thank me, and it worked.
“Oh, you know, the same, although this weather isn’t helping!” he grumbled. I smiled as I placed the knife down and passed him his fork.
“Well, just make sure you’re bundled up when you step out,” I said.
“Oh, I always do, Snow. I always do.” He picked up his fork, and I realised it was probably the last time I’d see him… I was leaving...
I could feel the Alpha’s eyes on me. His piercing gaze fixed on me as I disappeared into the back. I looked at my arm. Although the sleeve was covering it, his number remained. I didn’t know why I hadn’t wiped it off, but neither had I written it down.
Bad mistake, Del. Do it now.
I walked to the sink, pulling my sleeve up and applying a bit of handwash as I rubbed the ink off, my stomach twisting with a sliver of guilt. I hated the feeling, but like every other mark on my body, the ghostly imprint wasn’t vanishing. I hated it; I hated the fact that I didn’t remove it last night. I examined the faint imprint of the words before grabbing the metal scrubber sponge and scrubbing at my arm more vigorously.
Just leave me alone. Walk out of my life. Why did you have to show up?
“Ana!” Donovan shouted, snapping me back to reality. “Whoa, girl.” He grabbed my arm. I looked at the scratches I had made with the wiry sponge; I had drawn blood. I yanked my arm free, pulling my sleeve down.
“Don’t. I just…”
“Girl… those metal sponges are for pots and pans! Are you crazy using that on yourself?” He looked aghast. He was another one of the workers here.
I shook my head and walked out; I didn’t want to talk to him. I almost bumped into Coleen, who had just been about to enter the back.
