Alpha Bold

The bell above the door of The Daily Grind didn’t ring; it whimpered.

Evelyn Carter pushed her way into the sanctuary of roasted beans and blessed air conditioning, her soul still lingering somewhere in the third dimension of sleep. It was 6:58 AM on a Tuesday. The sun was doing that aggressive, enthusiastic morning thing that Evie personally found offensive, and her laptop bag was cutting a permanent groove into her shoulder.

She dropped her keys onto the scarred wooden counter with a definitive clack.

“Large iced coffee,” Evie muttered to the front of a black apron. “No sugar. No hope.”

“We’re fresh out of hope,” a deep, gravelly voice rumbled from the espresso machine. “But I can double-shot the espresso if you’re looking to fight God by noon.”

Evie blinked her gritty eyes, finally looking up.

Levi Blackwood was, without a doubt, the most anatomically absurd human being she had ever encountered. He stood at a towering six-foot-four, with shoulders that looked capable of snapping a telephone pole in half and dark hair that perpetually looked like he’d just ridden a motorcycle through a hurricane. He had a jawline sharp enough to slice bread and a shadow of stubble that screamed I survive entirely on raw meat and dark thoughts.

He looked like the kind of man who initiated bar fights for fun. Instead, he was currently wearing a faded pink apron over a tight black T-shirt, delicately dusting cocoa powder over a porcelain cup.

“Just the iced coffee, please,” Evie said, leaning her elbow on the counter. “Did you burn the beans today?”

Levi paused, a massive, scarred hand gripping the handle of the milk pitcher. He cut his gaze over to her, his dark eyes intensely focused. “Only emotionally.”

“Good. I like my caffeine with a side of existential dread.” Evie pulled a crumpled ten-dollar bill from her pocket and slid it across the counter. “You know, you smile at everyone else, Levi. Mrs. Gable got a full dimple flash yesterday. What did I do? Exist?”

Levi didn’t blink. He never blinked. In fact, he won every single staring contest they had ever engaged in, which was an infuriatingly high number.

“They’re less terrifying,” Levi said softly, his voice dropping an octave as he reached for a plastic cup.

“I am five-foot-four and wearing a cardigan with embroidered ducks on it,” Evie pointed out, gesturing to her outfit. “You look like you break collarbones as a hobby.”

“Looks can be deceiving.”

Levi turned his back to fill her cup, and Evie missed the subtle, violent clench of his jaw.

Underneath the counter, Levin’s fingers dug into the edge of the espresso machine’s drip tray so hard the metal groaned. Terrifying didn’t even begin to cover it. Evie didn’t know that every time she walked through that door, the scent of rain, crushed mint, and sweet vanilla hit his senses like a physical blow. She didn’t know that his inner wolf—the massive, bloodthirsty apex predator that ruled the Northern Ridge Pack—was currently doing backflips in his chest, whining like a scolded puppy because she was standing less than three feet away and he couldn’t lick her face.

Mate, the wolf roared in his skull. Touch her. Claim her. Give her the pastry.

Shut up, Levi thought back, his mental voice a stern growl. She hates us. If I breathe too loud, she’ll buy a Keurig.

Levi took a deep, steadying breath, filtering out her intoxicating scent to focus on the task at hand. He poured the cold brew over the ice cubes, ensuring the ratio was mathematically perfect. He picked up a black marker to write her name on the cup, his hand trembling just enough that his neat, surprisingly elegant cursive wobbled.

“Yo, boss man!”

The swinging door to the back room burst open, and Theo exploded into the front of the house. Theo was twenty-four, had floppy blonde hair, and possessed the exact energetic frequency of a Golden Retriever that had ingested a bag of coffee beans. He was also Levi’s third-in-command, a fact that Levi regretted every single day of his life.

“We are officially out of oat milk,” Theo announced, leaning over the counter and beaming at Evie. “Morning, Evie! You look like death. Love the ducks.”

“Thanks, Theo. It’s a lifestyle.”

Levi froze. His eyes narrowed. A low, vibrating frequency started in the back of his throat before he could stop it—a primal, territorial rumble triggered by a lack of lactose-free alternatives and his pack mate standing too close to his female.

Grrrrrrr...

Evie paused, squinting at the espresso machine. “Is your steamer dying? It sounds like a broken lawnmower.”

Levi cut off the growl instantly, clearing his throat. “Yes. The... gaskets are loose. Theo, go to the back and check the inventory again. Now.”

“But I just—” Theo caught the absolute murder in his Alpha’s eyes and swallowed hard, his ears practically pinning back in submission. “Right. Checking the back. For the milk. That doesn’t exist. Bye, Evie!” He scrambled backward through the swinging doors.

Levi exhaled, turning back around to pop a straw into Evie’s cup. He slid it across the bar to her.

“Sorry about him,” Levi said, his tone returning to its usual quiet rumble.

“Don’t worry about it. Werewolves are dramatic,” Evie said casually, taking a long, deeply satisfying sip of her coffee. She sighed as the caffeine hit her bloodstream. “Honestly, the whole species. Did you see the local news yesterday? Apparently, the Northern Ridge Pack got into a ‘territorial dispute’ over the eastern valley. A bunch of grown men howling at the moon because someone stepped on their grass. Ridiculous.”

Levi’s hand, which had been wiping down the counter with a rag, stopped completely.

The “territorial dispute” had been a rogue pack trying to smuggle silver-tipped weapons through his borders. Levi had personally thrown a two-hundred-pound wolf through a thick oak tree at three in the morning to stop it.

“Is that so?” Levi asked, his face a mask of perfect, stoic calm.

“Total jerks,” Evie affirmed, picking up her coffee. “Arrogant, aggressive, and they take up too much space. Anyway, this is perfect as always. See you tomorrow, Levi.”

She flashed him a quick, brilliant smile—one that actually reached her tired eyes—and turned on her heel, the bell above the door chiming as she walked out into the sunlight.

Levi stood frozen behind the counter for a full thirty seconds, staring at the empty doorway.

The swinging doors creaked open, and Theo peeked his head out. “Uh... Alpha? Boss? Are you okay? Your eyes are glowing a little bit.”

Levi slowly looked down at his hand. He was still clutching the ceramic mug he’d been holding earlier to prep an americano. With a soft crack, the handle snapped cleanly off in his grip, crumbling into white dust.

“She hates wolves, Theo,” Levi whispered, looking entirely devastated.

“Yeah,” Theo said, wincing. “She really, really does. Want me to go buy some more oat milk?”