The shrill cry of the alarm shattered the silence, dragging me from a restless sleep. I groaned ,the events of the previous night lingered in my mind like shadows refusing to fade.
I stumbled into the bathroom, the cold tiles jolting me awake .the shower hissed to life,steam curling around me as I tried to wash away the unease clinging to my skin.
The thought of Luca crossed my mind ,
maybe I should meet him up.
I haven't heard from him since last night
Did I even mattered to him ?
I picked up my cellphone and reached him out
"Hey luca..." I whisper. My voice sounds too soft " i was wondering if we could meet at the train station this morning?"
Silence.
Then__click
He ends the call.
I stared at the screen, with chest aches growing sharper.
DONT CRY
I said within me.
At the station,I sit on the cold bench, watching the world move like I'm not part of it and then I spot Luca,
My heart jumps.
He walked towards me like he doesn't feel a damn thing
Same hair cut ,old jacket.
"Hey" he says sharply, " you said you wanted to see me."
The way he says it _ curt ,annoyed knocks the breath out of me.
"I just "....I swallow, searching his face
"do you want to see me Luca?"
He scoffs. "I'd rather be at work dealing with actual problems than wasting time here"
My chest tightens ,what do u even mean, I felt hurt within me
"Luca what about the other night?"
I ask,voice trembling and trying to search his eyes
" You held me like I meant something.
You looked at me like_"
He cuts me off sharply
"that night was a mistake."
I blink " A mistake?"
"Yeah" he mutters
"whatever you thought it was _it wasn't. Don't call me for things like this again."
And just like that ,
he turns and walks off. No explanation,
no goodbye.
I froze ,replaying his words over and over .
"A mistake?"
Like I didn't even matter.
Like I imagined it all.
I sit there for few minutes trying to recall what just happened
I feel stupid for Dailing the line at first
Maybe I would have just let the thought of him passed my mind .
Arriving at the restaurant, I donned my chef's apron, Despite my degree, this job was my current reality—a stepping stone, I told myself.
The morning unfolded uneventfully until I heard a sharp voice behind me.
"Lina! You again? How many times do I have to tell you—stop messing up the orders!" barked Marcus, the head chef. His dark eyes flashed with irritation as he slammed a plate down on the counter.
I swallowed hard, feeling the sting of humiliation spread across my cheeks. "I'm sorry, Marcus. I was trying to keep up—"
"Trying isn't good enough here! You're slow, forgetful, and you don't belong in this kitchen. Maybe you should stick to washing dishes," he sneered, leaning so close I could smell the stale cigarette on his breath.
Heat flared inside me. "I've been here longer than you think, and I'm not going anywhere."
A harsh laugh burst from his lips. "Oh, sweet Lina, you're dreaming if you think you can climb out of this hole. You're nothing but a little rat playing with fire."
His words hit harder than any blow. I clenched my fists, the rough apron digging into my palms. Around us, other kitchen staff glanced away or whispered, but no one dared step in.
Before I could reply, a voice cut through the tension.
"Enough, Marcus." It was Ellen, the manager, stepping between us. "Lina, just focus on your station. Marcus, save the attitude for the customers, no more talks please."
Marcus grumbled but backed off, muttering under his breath as he stormed to the grill.
I exhaled shakily, forcing a tight smile. The familiar ache of being underestimated clawed at my confidence.
---
Lost in thought, I didn't notice the looming figure until he spoke.
"Hey, wolf," he sneered, his voice laced with mockery.
I turned, startled. The man was unfamiliar, his beard thick and unkempt, eyes gleaming with malice. Laughter erupted from his companions.
"Just kidding," he chuckled darkly. "Unless you are one of them. I wouldn't mind making you my prey tonight."
Their laughter echoed, but a chill settled over me. There was something in his gaze—something that hinted at more than just a cruel joke.
The kitchen's hum faded behind me as I stepped into the alley, I leaned against the cold brick, the rough texture grounding me as tears welled up without warning. They traced silent paths down my cheeks, each drop a mystery.
I couldn't pinpoint the cause—was it the mocking laughter, the weight of unfulfilled potential, or something deeper, more primal? The ache wasn't just emotional; it was as if my very essence was stirring, restless.
After a while, I wiped my tears with the back of my hand, and returned to my duties, each movement deliberate, purposeful.
I have made up my mind to never let little things weigh me down , giving up or crying was never an option.
---
As evening approached, a familiar anticipation bubbled within me—it was the night of the pack meeting. I left work promptly, heading to the train station, the city's lights casting elongated shadows. The journey to the cabins was a blur, my mind racing with thoughts of transformation.
Stepping off the train, the forest's edge loomed ahead, the path to the cabins shrouded in twilight. I quickened my pace, the cool air tingling against my skin. Tonight, I felt different—stronger, more attuned.
But as I neared the clearing, a sudden rustle in the underbrush halted me. The hairs on my neck stood on end, instincts flaring. A low growl echoed, not from the cabins, but from the darkness behind me.
I turned slowly, heart pounding, eyes scanning the shadows.
A pair of glowing eyes met mine, unblinking, predatory.
The realization hit me—I wasn't alone.