The Chosen One

Francine's usual late morning slumber was interrupted by her boss, Tricia, who had scheduled her to open the cafe every day that week. Francine, a werewolf, was far from thrilled. Despite her best efforts to use her lifelong relationship with Tricia and her son, Nomer, to her advantage, Francine's pleas for a shift change were ignored. After her third request, she was on the verge of being fired. She couldn't afford to lose this job. Even though it was just a cafe and bar, it was her source of income. Her original life plans had been scrapped, and she had to make the best of her current situation. She loathed waiting tables, often having nightmares about tables that came to life and swallowed her. She was in dire need of therapy! Her alarm had already rung twice before her father threatened to physically remove her from bed. Reluctantly, she left the comfort of her bed and stepped into the shower, hoping the hot water would help her wake up. She dressed in skinny black jeans and a black polo shirt with the 'Slither's' cafe and bar logo, then secured her hair in a top knot. After applying a light layer of makeup, she followed the aroma of strong coffee and bacon downstairs. The kitchen, usually a hub of activity, was quiet as most of the pack had already eaten and left for training. Starla, her best friend, greeted her with a mug of hot, black coffee, attempting a French accent. "For you madam... steaming hot and black just how you like it," she said. Francine thanked her and took a sip, cooling it down with a blow. "Thanks, Star," she replied. Starla complained about having to attend training, especially with the intimidating alpha from Sacred coming to assess them. "I can't believe you don't have to go to training again today. It's so unfair. The Sacred alpha is coming to assess us and kick us into shape, apparently he's terrifying!!!" she said. Francine admired Starla's beauty. Her light brown skin, high cheekbones, and deep brown eyes were stunning. She was tall and athletic, her body fitting perfectly into her tight navy shorts and sports bra. Francine suspected Starla was hoping to catch the alpha's attention, but she knew Starla had feelings for Nomer Moor, their other best friend. Francine wished they were mates, like in fairytales. Even if they weren't, they cared for each other. Perhaps Starla hoped that flirting with the alpha would make Nomer jealous. Regardless, Francine was glad to be out of the drama. Francine teased Starla about her perfection and dramatics. "Oh yeh it totally sucks to be you! I mean who'd wanna be like you, all perfect and all!" she said. Starla admitted she missed Francine's humor during training. "I'm serious. I miss you making me laugh when training totally blows," she said. Francine suggested they meet at Slither's after training for chocolate fudge cake, an offer Starla couldn't refuse. "I miss you too so come to Woodies after training and I'll treat you to a chocolate fudge cake and ruin all the hard work you put in we'll make a night of it?!" she said. As Francine sipped her coffee, Starla hugged her from behind, resting her head on Francine's. "Love you, Icy" she said. "I love you too... now go before you're late and my dad makes you do extra laps," Francine replied, playfully warning Starla not to be late for training, especially with the new alpha visiting. "Ugh, I can't stand the thought of that again. Bye, Icy," Starla groaned at the idea of such a punishment. She planted a gentle kiss on the back of Francine's head before dashing out of the packhouse for training. "Oh, moon goddess, Brent, call the doctor immediately - Francine must be ill!" Francine's mother exclaimed in a teasing tone, clutching her heart as if in shock. "Who are you, and what have you done with my daughter?" Francine's father crossed his arms over his broad chest and feigned a frown as if trying to intimidate someone, Francine's imposter, in fact. "Very funny. I have the early shifts this week, and I'm not thrilled about it, so please don't make me feel worse, parents!" Francine scolded them, rolling her eyes at their dramatic behavior. Sometimes she felt like she was the parent, and they were the children. "Coffee?" Francine's mom asked, pointing to her empty mug as she made some for Brent and herself. "No, I'm good, thanks. How are you feeling about today, dad?" "Honestly? I can't say I'm thrilled about needing help from someone young enough to be my -" Brent stopped himself mid-sentence, glancing awkwardly at Francine. He looked over at her mom, who quickly turned away to the cupboard, obviously not wanting either of them to see her tears. But Francine knew her mom was crying from the soft whimpers she couldn't hide. She hated seeing her upset, and she didn't know how to help her heal. "Mom," Francine croaked out. "I'm okay, honey, it's just allergies," Francine's mom busied herself in the cupboards with her back to them, knowing she could hide her pain from them for a few minutes if she looked busy. They had to let her work through it in her own way, so Francine gave Brent a weak smile, which he returned. "Dad, are you sure you don't need me to stay and help in some way?" Francine felt so bloody useless being excluded from things and just wanted to feel needed in some way, shape, or form. "Francine, please... let's not go over this again. Just go to work, okay?" Brent said his words gently, but Francine could hear the annoyance lingering in his tone. She knew how he felt about her deep down. She was a huge disappointment to him. She'd let him down, she was useless, so how could she help in any way? She was just a liability, just a girl who works in a cafe serving coffee by day and bar by night.