Anna POV:
The rage hadn't faded.
It was a hot, buzzing thing under my skin. I channeled it into my work, scrubbing the stainless steel steam wand of my espresso machine with a fury that made the metal gleam.
Scrub, scrub, scrub.
Each motion was a mental jab at Hayes's smug face. Close my shop? Serve your parents? Wolfless?
I was so lost in my anger that I didn't hear the bell on the door jingle. I only registered someone was there when a large shadow fell over me, blocking the afternoon light.
A deep, calm voice spoke my name. "Anna."
I looked up, startled, my hand freezing on the machine.
A man stood on the other side of the counter. He was tall, with broad shoulders that strained the fabric of a simple flannel shirt. He had dark, thick hair, a clean-shaven jaw, and eyes so deep and brown they seemed to pull you in. There was something familiar about his face, a ghost of a memory from a long time ago.
"I'm sorry, do I know you?" I asked, wiping my hands on my apron.
A slow, easy smile touched his lips, and recognition clicked into place. Derrick Farrell. He'd been a few years ahead of me in the pack's designated high school. He was quiet back then, always in the background. A nobody, really. Just another wolf from a lower-ranking family. My elder brother Michael knew him well, but I'd barely exchanged a dozen words with him.
"Derrick," I said, a genuine smile replacing my scowl. It was nice to see a friendly, or at least neutral, face. "Wow. It's been years. What are you doing in this part of town?"
"Working a construction gig down the street," he said, his voice a low rumble that was surprisingly pleasant. "Saw the sign. Figured I'd see if the coffee was as good as the name."
His smile was warm, and his eyes held a friendly light. He felt... safe. Normal.
"Well, you came to the right place," I said, my professional persona kicking in. "What can I get for you?"
"How about a pour-over? Whatever you recommend."
"Coming right up."
I moved with practiced ease, grinding the beans, the whir of the machine a familiar comfort. The rich, nutty aroma of the coffee filled the air, and I felt some of the tension in my shoulders begin to unwind.
As I prepared the filter, Derrick leaned against the counter, his posture relaxed. "I think I saw you earlier," he said casually. "Leaving the cafe down the street. You seemed to be in a hurry."
I sighed, the anger from my disastrous date bubbling up again. I stopped what I was doing and leaned my own hands on the counter. "You have no idea."
And then, it all came spilling out. The thirty-minute wait, the condescending attitude, the demand that I close my shop, the wolfless comment. I told this man who was almost a stranger to me, this ghost from my past, everything. He was just so easy to talk to. He listened, his dark eyes fixed on my face, his expression unreadable but intent. He didn't interrupt. He just let me vent.
When I got to the part about him calling me wolfless, a flicker of something cold and hard passed through his eyes. It was there and gone so fast I thought I might have imagined it.
"And then there was Cody," I found myself saying, the name leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. "My ex. He cheated on me six months ago. Told me I was lucky he'd even dated a wolfless human in the first place. I swear, I think all the men in this pack are programmed with the same arrogant, misogynistic software."
At the mention of Cody's name, I saw Derrick's hand, which was resting on the counter, clench into a fist. The knuckles went white. Again, the reaction was so swift, so quickly controlled, that I dismissed it. He was probably just a decent guy who hated hearing about cheaters.
"He sounds like an idiot," Derrick said, his voice still calm, but with an underlying edge of steel. He reached over and gently took a paper napkin from the dispenser, dabbing at a drop of water that had splashed onto the back of my hand while I was talking. "You're not any of those things they say you are. You built this place. That takes strength."
His fingers brushed against my skin. A tiny, unexpected jolt, like static electricity, shot up my arm. I pulled my hand back, my cheeks suddenly warm.
"Thanks," I mumbled, turning my attention back to the coffee, my heart beating a little faster. I finished the pour-over, the hot water blooming over the grounds, and pushed the steaming mug across the counter to him.
"It's just..." I started, then stopped, shaking my head. "It's my mother. She's the one setting up these horrible dates. She's desperate to see me mated off."
As if on cue, my phone, tucked into the pocket of my apron, began to vibrate violently. A frantic, angry buzzing against my hip.
I pulled it out. The screen glowed with a single word: Mom.
A wave of exhaustion washed over me. I pressed the ignore button and shoved the phone back into my pocket, closing my eyes for a brief second.
"Trouble?" Derrick asked softly.
"The source of all my problems," I muttered. "She won't stop until I'm married off to some 'suitable' Alpha who will probably want me to be a domestic slave." I let out a humorless laugh. "God, sometimes I wish I could just hire a fake boyfriend. Someone to parade in front of her for a few months until she finally gets off my back."
Derrick picked up his coffee mug, taking a slow sip. He watched me over the rim, his eyes thoughtful. He didn't say anything, but a corner of his mouth tilted up in a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. It was a hunter's smile.
My phone started vibrating again, more insistently this time.
"I'm so sorry," I said, pulling off my apron in frustration. "I have to take this, or she'll send a search party."
"Go ahead," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "I'm not in any hurry." He took his mug and walked over to a small table in the corner, settling into a chair as if he had all the time in the world.
I gave him a grateful look and retreated toward the back of the shop, my phone buzzing like an angry hornet in my hand.
With a deep, fortifying breath, I swiped to answer, bracing myself for the storm.
"Anna, what have you done?"
I walked through the curtained doorway into the small, cluttered employee break room, the scent of coffee and my mother's impending rage filling my senses.
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