Chapter 28 Black coffee scene
Aurora's POV
I couldn't help but roll my eyes as I navigated my way across the bustling street, heading towards the familiar coffee shop that Alpha Caden had insisted I visit to fetch his afternoon pick-me-up. He always insisted on being called Mr. Black at work, despite the fact that everyone there was a werewolf. Frankly, I didn't understand his aversion to the title "Alpha."
Stepping through the door of the coffee shop, I was immediately greeted by the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee, the scent reminiscent of the bustling cafés of the human world. It was the kind of aroma that could lift your spirits and invigorate your senses, perfect for jumpstarting a busy day or powering through a long list of clients.
As I approached the counter to place my order, a pang of nostalgia tugged at my chest, reminding me of the life I had left behind in the human world. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness at the thought of my clients and employees back at the tattoo shop, their faces and conversations now just distant memories.
I had promised them that I would only be gone for a few days, but as the reality of my new life as a werewolf settled in, it seemed increasingly unlikely that I would ever return. It seems like by the time Alpha Caden or more like the monster that I call him in my head, is done with me, there will be nothing left for me to go back to. He will make sure of that when the time comes.
I made a deliberate decision to hire two attractive and hot girls my age to work alongside me at the shop, hoping it would deter the constant stream of men who seemed to think hitting on me was their favorite pastime. Despite my efforts, their advances persisted, and I couldn't help but find amusement in their futile attempts to win me over with their cheesy pickup lines. It became somewhat of a running joke among us, as they knew all too well that I had no interest in entertaining their romantic advances. They all think I have a husband hiding somewhere or I'm a hermaphrodite, I didn't confirm nor deny anything. Even the girls make moves on me there and I turn them down so it wasn't that I am a lesbian.
Don't get me wrong; the men that visited the shop were undeniably good-looking, and some of them were even charming and gentlemanly. But for me, there was never any spark, no desire to take things beyond a professional or friendly level. I mean, I never had the urge to have sex with anyone. They were just my clients, some of them turned acquaintances while others turned friends. Nothing more nothing less.
I enjoyed tattooing them, sharing laughs, and occasionally grabbing drinks after closing, but that's where it ended. I remained an enigma to them, forever out of reach despite their attempts to label me as otherworldly or bewitching - little did they know, they were closer to the truth than they realized. I usually laugh it off as a joke.
I interacted with the human men in my tattoo shop, they often commented on my appearance in various ways, each remark highlighting their perception of me as something beyond the ordinary. Some would say my hair, especially the girls. They think I don't have the usual hair around here.
One man, with a sheepish grin, remarked, "You know, you've got this aura about you, like you're not from around here. It's kinda bewitching, you know?"
Another, a regular client, leaned back in his chair and chuckled, a billionaire chortle. " Seriously, every time I come in here, I feel like I've stumbled into a fairytale. You're like the enchantress of this place."
A younger guy, nervously tapping his foot, stuttered out, "Um, excuse me, but has anyone ever told you that you look... ethereal? Like, you're not real, but in a good way?"
Their comments, while flattering in their own way, only served to reinforce my status as an enigma among them. Despite their attempts to understand or categorize me, I remained a mystery, an otherworldly presence in their mundane lives.
The regret gnaws at me like a relentless hunger, a persistent ache that refuses to be ignored. If only I had chosen one of those men from the shop to share that intimate moment with - someone I'd gladly give my virginity to- maybe things would be different. All those handsome rich billionaires or heirs. Some were willing to go beyond and above just for one night with me. They liked the air of mystery surrounding me.
Maybe Alpha Caden wouldn't have mercilessly taken what was mine without my consent, accusing me of actions I have no recollection of, twisting the truth to suit his own twisted desires. The anger and frustration bubble within me like a boiling cauldron, fueling my determination to confront him and reclaim what he stole from me.
The imprint of his teeth upon my skin serves as a constant reminder of the violation I endured, a scar that refuses to fade despite my desperate attempts to conceal it beneath layers of makeup. Each day becomes a battle against time as I struggle to maintain the facade of normalcy, forced to reapply makeup every few hours in a futile attempt to hide the damning evidence of his possession.
The thought of facing Lilian with this mark fills me with dread, knowing that I must endure the pain of her innocent questions and curious glances without betraying the torment that rages within me. It is a burden I never asked for, a burden I am forced to bear alone, with no respite in sight.
I grapple with the frustration and anger boiling within me, a tumultuous conversation unfolds in the recesses of my mind, a silent plea directed at the elusive moon Goddess herself. Why didn't I indulge in frivolous flings and fleeting romances with the men of the human world? Why did fate lead me down this treacherous path, entangling me in a web of deceit and betrayal orchestrated by none other than Alpha Caden?
If this was the beginning of my journey, if this was the moment where it all began to unravel, then I have a bone to pick with the Moon Goddess. I'm not content with the hand I've been dealt, and I refuse to accept her whims without protest. This shouldn't be my life to be honest. I don't deserve this.
I approached the counter, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness at the thought of my clients and employees back at the tattoo shop, their faces and conversations now just distant memories. I had promised them that I would only be gone for a few days, but as the reality of my new life as a werewolf settled in, it seemed increasingly unlikely that I would ever return. Lost in my thoughts, I absentmindedly placed my order, opting for a black coffee, as Alpha Caden had failed to provide any specifics about his preferred brew. I ordered latte for myself. Normally, I would have checked my phone for any messages or reminders, but I had left it behind at the office, a decision I was beginning to regret.
As I waited for my order, the nostalgia of my former life continued to tug at my heartstrings, the simple pleasures of the human world now a distant dream. I missed the camaraderie of the tattoo shop, the laughter and banter that had once filled the air. But now, all that remained were memories, fading like ink on skin.
The barista handed me my coffee, and with a heavy sigh, I turned to leave, resigned to the reality of my new existence. As I stepped out onto the bustling street, the weight of my solitude pressed down on me like a suffocating blanket, a constant reminder of all that I had left behind.
Making my way inside the office, I tried to lower my head so I don't bump into anyone I know. This is the only company in the whole of Brown Wood Pack which means all the members that wanted to deal with anything business will have no choice but ttk come here and I'm sure some of my mates in highschool were into business. I'm not ready to deal with this.
Arriving back at the office with no unnecessary issues, I let out a sigh and place his order right in front of him while he stared at me with his working rimless glasses that makes him look so fucking hot my breath caught. Why the hell is he wearing that and why does it add to his hotness instead of doing the opposite?
"What do we have here?" He dragged the cup towards him then crinkled his nose when he smelled what was inside.
"Black coffee." I offered even though he knew what was inside from the way he wrinkled his dad attractive nose.
As the years passed, it was impossible not to notice how this man had grown more handsome with age, like a fine wine maturing with time. His features seemed to acquire a certain depth and character, each line and wrinkle telling a story of a life well-lived. Not that he has many wrinkles, just by the side of his mouth from so much fake laughing and all.
His eyes, once vibrant and youthful, now held a wisdom and intensity that was both captivating and alluring. It was as if time had only served to enhance his natural charm and charisma, leaving him more irresistible than ever before. Even his beard is nearly trimmed to perfection, adding to his regal look. I don't remember thinking him attractive four years ago. What's happening?
"I don't take black coffee, Ms. Woods." He said pushing the cup towards me then eyed the one in my hand and I instinctively hide it behind me with a frown.
"Well, you didn't tell me what you like and just said I should go get you coffee. I got you coffee. " I said then made a move to turn around but he was there in a second.
He pushed me against his desk, his front against mine but our chests weren't touching. My eyes were wide like a deer caught in the headlight as I stared at him. He gave me another one of his jeering smiles which made my heart pound in my chest probably from fear of what he might do. I haven't forgotten that he has choked me that day. "It's either you go get me another coffee or give me your latte."