Saving Lily

A satisfied smile graced Lily’s lips at the sight of the squeaky-clean café - the tables non-sticky from a day’s work and the floor still wet and glistening from the mopping. The kitchen surely needed more work, but the clock dictated that her shift was over. Besides, the kitchen staff wouldn’t want anyone from the service crew touching any of their stuff. She heard them bustling around in the kitchen earlier, the nonstop orders of their boss lost among the thuds and clatters. Like clockwork, every Saturday at exactly two-thirty in the morning, goods were delivered from their reliable supplier and immediately unpacked and organized.

Lily raised her arms over her head to stretch her tired muscles. All day, she’d felt the symptoms of that time of the month again. The worsening headache prompted her to leave for the clinic at once. She didn’t book an appointment with them again, but they would understand. They always did. Not once had they turned her away when she was in need.

She untied her apron and placed it on the counter when the chimes suddenly rang. Oh, no. She’d forgotten to lock the doors before cleaning.

Lily put on a practiced smile. With aching feet and shoulders on top of the headache, she would really rather not deal with the sort of people who couldn’t be bothered to read the sign. The register got cleaned daily. All the money they made the previous day was sitting safely inside the purse of her boss’s wife. Lily turned on her heels and came face to face with three towering figures.

Beautiful blue eyes crinkled as the man on her left smiled at her, showing off his pearly whites. His blonde curls spilled on his forehead and they swayed when he slightly angled his head as if intrigued by her. He was almost as tall as the man on her right, who reminded her of a fairy because of his hairstyle. It was cropped short with a thick patch on the top of his head, half of it dyed green and the other half dyed blue. It perfectly matched his eyes, which sparkled like broken green glass under the sunlight. But what caught her attention the most was those dark grey eyes of the man directly in front of her, which were akin to the thin lines of smoke that trailed off the end of a burning cigarette. Black-gloved hands loosely held a cane in front of him.

The three stared at her as her curious eyes flitted among them.

Lily swallowed. They wore expensive suits that did little to hide their perfectly toned bodies underneath. They were bigger than most, and most meant betas. Their physiques would no doubt make them stand out in a crowd. However, as smitten as she was by their appearances, her stomach tightened into knots. She took a step back on instinct.

The man on her right frowned as if her movement disappointed him. He narrowed those sharp green eyes at her, glinting from catching the fluorescent light overhead. Something about the way he looked at her raised warning bells in her head. It was uncomfortable, to say the least; it felt like he was assessing her.

Lily averted her gaze. Any longer and he might figure out that she was an omega. That would be a very disastrous situation to be in.

When his lips returned to a flat line, his face remained as unreadable as before. Relief washed over her. Whatever just happened, Lily was in the clear, which was fine and dandy for her. Getting tied up with more trouble was the last thing she needed in her life. Her lower back hit the counter, reminding her that her closest exit out of the building was being blocked by those three. The back door was beginning to sound preferable, but she was warned not to enter the kitchens without her boss’s supervision.

She licked her lips; her mouth went dry from the auras they exuded despite the fact that one of them was still grinning widely at her. It wasn’t friendly in any way. It bordered on creepy. The way his ocean blue eyes watched her as they all stood unmoving made her feel small and vulnerable, like she was prey. Their prey. And it was indeed the case, as she was physically defenseless against any of them. One look, one subtle whiff that had her heart fluttering, and she knew they were alphas—a word that spelled ‘trouble’ and ‘run’ in her dictionary.

“We-We’re closed,” she stammered, though well aware that they wouldn’t just leave. Alphas don’t take kindly to orders from anybody, especially from a nobody like her.

“Oh, we’re aware, sweets,” said the one on her left. He cocked his head to the side, the grin on his face widening. “There’s something about you–”

Her heart jumped from what he was getting at.

“Is Claude here?” asked the blue-and-green haired Alpha, cutting him off, much to her relief. Had they figured it out and started questioning her, she’d have to answer. Nobody said no to a persistent alpha without good reason, and she was face to face with three.

At a loss for words, she cranked her neck to glance at the kitchen.

“Thanks, sweets.”

The three moved in sync, the two flanking the man who hadn’t said a word. As soon as his eyes left her, she felt a weight off of her chest. There was a noticeable limp in his step, a rare sight to see from Alphas.

Lily slowly let out a breath. Their scent permeated the space. Any more time in the same space as them and her legs would go jelly. Sometimes, Alphas came into the café, but none of them had ever paid her any attention beyond that of being a waitress. Most stared while some tried talking her up, but she’d always managed to push down the urge to soak in their scent and instead turn them down politely with some sort of excuse like “I have a boyfriend. He’s an Alpha.” Being around Alphas unnerved her at the start, but she should be used to them already. Unfortunately, the tingling need at the juncture between her legs did little to convince herself of the lie.

Lily blamed her genetic makeup as she shook her head and went behind the counter. She crouched to grab her backpack, the space between the cabinet underneath and the wall just enough for her to fit. As she checked for the fifth time if the envelope containing her month-end salary was still in her bag, she heard the clanking of pots in the kitchen, followed by a loud crash. The kitchen staff began to file out. Whatever was about to go down, she was out. Blame it on experience to attune her danger radar.

However, no sooner was she on her feet when the roaring of motorcycles disturbed the silent streets. Then the nightmare began. The glass windows shattered as bullets rained nonstop. Lily crouched behind the counter, shaking and pale, trying to make herself as small as possible. She covered her ears with her hands to drown out the horrifying noise that seemed to have no end.

Tears invariably found their way down her cheeks. Despite the ringing in her ears, she could swear she heard the grunts and the cut-off terror-filled screams of the people around her. She heard what sounded like bodies falling to the floor. Her chest tightened. Her throat burned. Only then did she realize that she was screaming at the top of her lungs.

When a hand landed just near her, blocking her passage from her tiny haven, her fears rose to new heights. After a few seconds of staring at the unmoving hand, her breathing paused. He was dead. Lily couldn’t tell who he was, but he was dead. And she was next.

The bullets kept coming. Her mouth had clamped shut; her whimpers barely audible. Her heart hammered against her chest like it was looking for a way out—to save itself from the impending doom she was too unprepared to face; the same end that she thought she’d escaped from. In her seemingly final moments, Lily thought, nothing has changed.

--VV_INKTT--