Chapter 1
The sweet scent of green apple tobacco wraps around me like a warm blanket when I enter Shisha Shifters. This week's special is unmistakable—I would know, considering I spent hours helping my brother taste-test before he finally settled on it.
The café is alive, a crowded blur of movement and flickering shadows. Every shifter in town comes here. I’d rather be elsewhere, but Alex—my brother and the owner—needed me tonight.
Looking at Alex is like looking into a slightly older mirror. If not for the age gap, we could pass for twins—same brown hair, same green eyes, same tanned skin.
Alex grins the moment he spots me. “Little sis! Thanks for coming in. We’re packed. Brace yourself—I need you on tables.”
He knows full well how much I hate waiting tables.
She-wolves don’t usually work the floor. Shifters are territorial, and one wrong glance can turn into a full-blown fight. It’s not the fights that bother me—it’s mopping up the blood afterwards.
A familiar voice rumbles behind me, rich with amusement.
“Mine.”
Strong arms wrap around me, pulling me flush against a broad chest. I don’t have time to react before warmth engulfs me. Eric. His hazel eyes sparkle with mischief as he grins down at me.
Eric is the pack’s Beta and resident heartthrob. I’m sure every teenage she-wolf has his picture taped to her bedroom wall.
Honestly, having him around feels like a constant hug. He carries comfort wherever he goes. Maybe it’s because he’s strong and kind. Sweet and smart. The perfect Beta. Arguably, the ideal he-wolf.
“Gotcha.” His laughter reverberates through the café. “So, when do you turn twenty-three?”
I swat at his arms. “You know exactly when. Your parents won’t let you forget it.”
Our mothers have been best friends since birth and have been shipping us just as long.
A chuckle sounds from nearby. Storm—the Robin to Eric’s Batman. Under the café’s dim lighting, his champagne-coloured hair glows like a halo, a misleading contrast to his sharp grin.
“Be real, Eric,” Storm teases. “You’ve got the date circled in your diary.”
We both reply at the same time.
“Yeah, yeah,” Eric protests.“Yeah, yeah,” I mock.
Storm snickers. “You even complete each other’s sentences.”
Eric smirks, turning the attention away from himself. “What about you, Storm? Think Tiffany might be your mate?”
My stomach twists at the name.
Storm chokes on his drink, eyes widening in alarm. “Warn me before you say shit like that. She’s been dating my brother for years. That’s just wrong.”
Shifters see mate bonds as gifts to be treasured. Choosing a partner before your twenty-fifth birthday is frowned upon—especially for women.
I weave through the crowd, slowing as I near a corner table.
The pack’s Gamma.
Our history makes our interactions. Complicated.
He looks up, his golden eyes sharp, and assesses. Some men command attention with their voices—Thunder does it with silence. One glance from him carries more weight than most words ever could.
“Evening, Gamma.” I steady my voice. “I’m Lauren, attending to you tonight.”
He nods curtly. “The special. Water. And pink lemonade.”
Pink lemonade. Tiffany will be joining him.
I don’t understand what he sees in her personality, but I can’t deny her allure—long legs, bright blue eyes, fiery red hair. Though, to me, she smells like those post-Christmas discount candy canes.
I turn to leave when his voice stops me.
“Does he always get to touch you like that?”
I blink, tilting my head slightly. “We’re packed. It’s normal.”
His jaw tenses. A slow, judgmental shake of his head.
I step closer, dropping my voice to a whisper. “At least I’m not choosing to date someone without confirmation of a mate bond.”
His golden eyes darken, the emotion burning in them mirroring my own. A sharp exhale leaves his lips, but he says nothing. I turn away, pretending the moment never happened.
By the time I return with his drinks, Tiffany is here. Her high-pitched voice rings through the café.
“Thunder, why are we way back here? I came to show off with my hot man beside me.”
Thunder glances at her, then at me. “Not being seen is always better.”
His tone is unwavering, final.
Tiffany waves a manicured hand in dismissal, rolling her eyes.
Then she zeroes in on me, her lips curling in amusement. “Been claimed by the Beta, Lizzy?”
I don’t bother correcting her about my name. She knows what it is.
“He was just joking,” I say lightly.
She scoffs, her gaze flickering to Thunder before returning to me. “Careful, Lizzy. People might start talking.”
Tiffany has perfected the art of veiled insults. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.
The night blurs into a rush of orders and shifters, but thankfully, without further incidents.
