Mia
The cafe reeked of hot espresso and stress. Finals week had everyone sweating through their hoodies and planning for the summer.
I pushed my sketchbook aside and looked up at the TV mounted in the corner where my roommate Sarah was pointing with her fork.
"Turn it up!" someone yelled from across the room.
The news anchor's voice filled the cafe. "Alpha Overlord, Marak Ozaki donated fifty million to Manhattan Children's Hospital today..."
My pencil froze halfway through my sketch, because there he was, tall, devastating in his charcoal suit, dark hair perfectly styled and those eyes that seemed to stare right into the camera anytime I saw him on the TV.
"Unbelievable," Sarah said, stabbing her salad like it had personally offended her.
"My dad says they own half the city council now," Jake muttered.
I kept sketching, pretending I didn't care while my heart almost beat it way outta my chest. I'd been drawing his face since I was seventeen, when werewolves first revealed themselves.
Not that I'd ever tell anyone because my dad would literally have a stroke if he knew his daughter fantasized about the enemy.
The camera zoomed in on Marak's face. Even through the shitty café TV, he looked like a god. Untouchable. Dangerous and completely out of my league because within five years of their arrival, the werewolves already owned half of the state. Within a year, senators were kissing their asses.
Dad called it an invasion but I called it the most fascinating thing that ever happened to humanity, though I'd never say that out loud.
"Look at that smug face," Sarah said, nearly choking on her coffee. "Acting like he just saved the world instead of throwing money around for good PR."
"Fifty million though," Jake whistled low. "That's more than most countries spend on healthcare."
"Fuck them," the waitress muttered, slamming our refill down so hard coffee sloshed over the rim. My sister worked for Ozaki Industries. Got fired the day after she questioned their labor practices. No explanation, no severance. Just fucking sacked."
"Jesus, really?" Sarah's eyes widened, her hand reaching out to console the waitress.
"They don't just buy companies," the waitress continued, her voice shaking with fury. "They destroy lives. But as long as they write big checks for photo ops, everyone pretends they're saints."
"My dad says it's like watching a hostile takeover in slow motion," Jake said. "Five years ago, they were myths. Now? My mom can't get a city permit without werewolf approval. It's insane."
"Your dad's the only one with balls enough to call them out," Sarah muttered, staring at me. "Senator Harper actually fought back when no one was willing."
I winced. "Yeah, and look how popular that makes my family. I can't walk through Brooklyn without seeing his face on those damn posters."
"Better than rolling over and playing dead," the waitress snapped.
But I couldn't stop staring at Marak on screen. The way he commanded attention without even trying. How everyone around him seemed smaller, less significant.
"What do you think it feels like?" I asked quietly. "Having that kind of power?"
"Lonely," Sarah said after a pause. "All that control, but who could you actually trust?"
"I'd rather be powerless than be a monster," Jake muttered.
I nodded, but something twisted in my stomach. Because watching him, I didn't see a monster.
I saw a fierce ruler.
The café door chimed, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. I didn't need to look up from my sketchbook to know werewolves had just walked in. The sudden hush, the way conversations died mid-sentence, the collective intake of breath from every human in the place.
I kept drawing, adding shadows to Marak's jawline. I know it's pathetic but can't help it.
"Oh shit," Sarah whispered, her fork clattering against her plate. "It's her."
"Who?" I glanced up and immediately understood.
Lijak stood near the counter with three other werewolves, all of them radiating that casual arrogance that made humans step aside without being asked and beautiful in that effortless way that made me want to throw my sketchbook at the wall.
She was walking past our table when Jake in a hurry to leave the cafe for class bumped his chair back and right into her path. Her coffee mug slipped while pouring all over my books and art supplies.
Quickly, I slammed the cover of my sketchbook shut before anyone could see what I'd been drawing, my face burning with embarrassment. Then I looked down at my ruined textbook, coffee seeping through the pages, and my heart sank.
"Fuck!" The word slipped out before I could stop it. Three months of notes, gone.
"I'm sorry." Lijak's voice was surprisingly soft. Not the cold dismissal I'd expected. "Let me replace it."
I looked up at her, really looked, and felt my stomach do something weird. Her dark eyes weren't arrogant right now. They were almost... concerned?
Behind her, one of her werewolf friends snickered. "Since when do you apologize to humans, Lijak?"
Another one smirked. "This should be interesting."
"It's fine," I said quickly, grabbing the nearby napkins the waitress left on the table earlier. "Accidents happen."
"No, it's not fine." She pulled out her phone, ignoring her friends completely. "I'll buy you new supplies. Better ones."
"I said it's fine." My voice came out sharper than I intended. "I don't need your charity."
Her eyebrows rose slightly. Behind her, the same werewolf friend made a sound that might have been a laugh.
"It's not charity," she said, and there was something almost amused in her tone. "It's my responsibility. I ruined your books."
"Mia," Sarah hissed under her breath. "Just say thank you for the offer and let it go."
Something about the way Lijak was looking at me, studying me as if I was actually worth her attention, made my spine straighten.
"I can handle my own art supplies, thanks."
"I'm sure you can." She tilted her head, examining me with the focus usually reserved for still life compositions. "But I have the same textbooks for Professor Reece's class. We could study together. Share notes."
The café had gone completely silent. Even the espresso machine seemed to be holding its breath.
"I don't think that's a good idea," I said.
"Why not?"
Because you're werewolf royalty and I'm human. Because you're looking at me as if you want to figure out how I work, and that terrifies me.
"Because we don't exactly run in the same circles." I finally muttered
She smiled then, and it transformed her entire face making her look innocent. "Maybe it's time we did."
"Mia, we need to leave. Now." Sarah grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin enough to draw blood.
"Why? She's just offering to study."
"Just offering to…" Sarah's voice cracked. "Do you have any idea who that is?"
"She's werewolf royalty!" Jake hissed, leaning across the table. "Her brother is the Alpha Overlord!"
I blinked. "The guy from the news?"
"The guy from the news," Sarah repeated slowly, staring at me in disbelief. "Mia, her family basically runs half the country."
"That's a bit of an exaggeration," Lijak said mildly, now sitting at our table uninvited.
"Is it though?" Jake shot back, then immediately looked terrified that he'd spoken to her.
"My brother has significant influence, yes. But we don't run anything. We participate in the political process just like everyone else."
"Actually," Lijak said, standing gracefully, "I shouldn't keep my friends waiting. But Mia, think about my offer. I'll be waiting in case you change your mind."
"Sure."
"We'll see." She walked away, leaving behind the faint scent of something floral and expensive.
"Are you insane?" Sarah exploded the moment Lijak was out the door. "You almost agree to her damn request!"
"So?"
"So? Mia, you could get yourself killed by getting close to her!"
"She seemed nice enough, I'm sure that won't happen."
"Nice?" Jake yelled. "She's a predator. They all are."
Jake leaned forward, his voice urgent. "Humans who got too close to their world just... disappear."
"That's just rumors."
"Is it?" Sarah grabbed my wrist. "Remember that journalist who was investigating werewolf business deals? Found dead in the Hudson River. The city councilman who opposed their housing development? Car accident that wasn't really an accident."
"And everyone knows Marak Ozaki is absolutely ruthless," Jake added. "He'd do anything to protect his family. Anything."
"Stay the fuck away, Mia," Sarah said, her voice shaking with frustration. "Please."
"Your dad won't approve and you know it too," Jake pressed. "This could destroy his entire career."
I looked between their terrified faces and almost laughed. "Come on now, guys. Don't be such scaredy cats. She just wants to study."
"Study?" Sarah's voice pitched higher. "Mia, these aren't normal people. They're predators. Killers."
"You guys shouldn't exaggerate."
Jake stared at me like I'd just removed my head and placed it on my lap. "She's werewolf fucking royalty. They don't do nice. They do convenient."
I looked toward the door where Lijak had disappeared, my ruined textbook still dripping coffee onto the table while my friends' warnings echoed in my head, but something else was louder. Curiosity. The same curiosity that had me sketching her brother's face when I should have been studying.
"Maybe you're right," I said quietly.
"Promise me you won't go," Sarah said for the third time as they packed up their stuff.
"I promise, and you're right. It's too risky."
"Good." She looked relieved. "Your dad would kill you if he found out you were even talking to her."
"I know."
Jake nodded approvingly. "Smart choice. Stick to your own kind."
They left me sitting alone with my coffee-stained textbook and a head full of contradictions. I stared at the brown mess where my notes used to be, then at the door where Lijak had disappeared.
My friends were probably right. Getting involved with werewolf royalty was stupid. The kind of mistake that ended up on the evening news.
But curiosity is a dangerous thing but this was a free invitation to study with someone who probably had access to resources I could only dream of.
Art books, private collections, materials that weren't available in our pathetic campus library. Also, how many people got an opportunity like this, to see the famous Ozaki estate and walk through the halls?
My phone buzzed in my pocket, checking it I realized it was a message from an unknown number.
Still thinking about my offer? I'm outside by the black Mercedes.
I looked toward the café windows and saw her leaning against a sleek car that probably cost too much to imagine, and scrolling through her phone with casual confidence. She glanced up, caught me staring, and waved at me.
Why did she wave at me? we aren't even friends and how on earth did she even get my number?
My heart hammered against my ribs like I just finished climbing Mount Everest. This was insane and completely reckless.
Everything my friends had warned me against. But how many people got invitations like this? The opportunity was incredible. My practical side tried to take charge, reminding me this could be amazing.
Then my paranoid brain whispered back: Yeah, and how many of those people live to tell the tale?
I shook my head, trying to silence the fear. That was just my anxiety talking, the same fear that kept people like me in our place while people like her ruled the world.
I stood up, decision already made as I walked to the counter. "Thanks for the coffee," I said to the waitress, dropping a five-dollar tip on the counter.
Then I left the comfort of the café and stepped into the unknown, hoping I wouldn't get myself killed.