Vanessa’s POV
I rolled my eyes as I navigated the bustling street, heading toward the coffee shop that Alpha Alexander insisted I visit for his afternoon pick-me-up. At work, he demanded to be called Mr. Black, despite everyone being a werewolf. His aversion to the title "Alpha" baffled me.
Stepping into the coffee shop, the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted me. It reminded me of the bustling cafés in the human world, where the scent could lift your spirits and invigorate your senses, perfect for jumpstarting a busy day or powering through a long list of clients.
As I approached the counter to place my order, a pang of nostalgia tugged at my chest, reminding me of the life I left behind. The faces and conversations of my clients and employees at the tattoo shop were now
