Melissa Eden.
Four years ago.
“I’m Melissa and I’ll be taking your orders today, what can I get you?” I ask the group of boys who sat like they had the whole world at their feet.
One of them who had a jet black hair whispered something into the ear of one of his friends, his eyes never breaking contact with mine.
From the aura they emitted, you could easily tell that they were werewolves and something told me that the one in the middle who had a constant smug look on his face was a high ranking wolf. He could be an alpha of a pack judging by his proud countenance. But then, he looked too young to be one.
“What is a pretty wolf like you doing at a place like this?” The boy with a dirty blonde hair spoke, his tone laced with calmness. His type was hard to find in our world.
Werewolv
