The Alpha I can't Stand (but Want)

Aissata's POV

I had a few rules that kept me sane while working at the Silvercrest Diner. First rule: never get involved with the werewolves who came through the door. Second rule: don’t back down when they think they can intimidate you. And third rule: always make sure you get paid. That last one was the most important. If you weren’t getting tips, you were just another pawn in their power game.

But on this particular evening, something about the air felt different. It wasn’t just the heavy weight of the full moon pressing down on the town. No, it was the arrival of the Alpha himself—the man who owned this city, Koffi Mensah. His reputation had a presence all on its own, even without him being in the room. But there he was, stepping into the diner with his Beta, Adama Koné, both of them oozing the kind of arrogance that only comes with power, money, and the blood of wolves running through their veins.

I leaned against the counter, wiping down the edges of a glass, my eyes catching Koffi's dark gaze as he entered. His eyes scanned the diner like a predator looking for his next meal—cold, calculating, and indifferent. The kind of man who thought everyone in this place existed to serve him.

My heart skipped a beat, but I didn’t let it show. Not that I cared about the Alpha. I wasn’t like the others who cowered in his presence. No, I had my own issues with werewolves, especially ones who thought they could walk all over humans. The air shifted as they took their seats, the pack's usual entourage following suit. I could feel the tension in the room; even the most hardened regulars didn’t dare speak louder than a whisper when Koffi Mensah walked in.

Adama looked like he belonged beside Koffi—just as tall, just as imposing—but it was Koffi who commanded the room, with an aura that could freeze anyone in their tracks. He didn’t even need to speak to make his presence felt. But when he did speak, it was in that low, dangerous tone that made you want to obey.

"Bring us your best," Koffi ordered as Adama took a seat beside him. His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried through the room, cutting through the ambient noise like a blade.

I wasn’t afraid. Not of Koffi. Not of any of them. They could throw their wealth and status at me all they wanted, but I wasn’t going to bend for it. I wasn’t some trembling human who jumped to attention at the sight of a wolf in a suit. I squared my shoulders and walked over to their table, my gaze meeting Koffi’s head-on.

“The ‘best,’ huh?” I said, my voice sharp as I set down the menus. “Well, you’ll have to make do with what we’ve got.” I didn’t need to add that our specials were probably better than anything they could get at those fancy wolf-run restaurants, but I was more than ready to take the edge off their arrogance.

Adama raised an eyebrow, his mouth curling into a smirk. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, human.”

I met his gaze with a cold stare, offering nothing but a silent challenge. “I don’t take orders from wolves, especially ones who think they own the world.”

There was a flicker of something in Koffi’s eyes—a flash of amusement, maybe? But it was gone just as quickly as it appeared. “I don’t think you understand who you're speaking to,” he said, his voice just as dangerous as his gaze. “I’m Koffi Mensah, Alpha of the Mooncrest Pack. This town, this diner, everything you see here is mine.”

“Doesn't make you my boss,” I shot back, leaning in closer. The scent of his cologne—a mixture of leather, musk, and something deeper—clung to the air around him. That sharp, powerful presence was overwhelming, but I wasn’t about to give in. “I’m just here to do my job, so if you want to eat, you’ll do it with some respect.”

A silence followed that was thick enough to cut with a knife. Even the other patrons seemed to hold their breath, watching this confrontation unfold. Koffi didn’t flinch, didn’t back down, but there was something in his eyes—something I couldn’t quite place—that made the air between us crackle.

Adama chuckled, clearly enjoying the tension. “You’re a bold one, I’ll give you that.”

But Koffi didn’t laugh. He sat back, folding his arms over his chest, his jaw set in that dangerous, stubborn way. I could tell this wasn’t going to end with him just walking away. Not by a long shot.

“You’ll regret speaking to me like that,” Koffi said, his voice low, but with an edge that made every hair on my neck stand up.

I stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest. “Maybe. But I’ll stand by what I said. You don’t scare me.” I meant it. If anything, I hated what he represented: the arrogant wolves who thought they could control everything and everyone. They were just animals in expensive suits.

Koffi’s eyes flashed with something—anger, maybe—but it was quickly replaced by something else, something I couldn’t identify. He tilted his head, studying me like a scientist would a new specimen. “I’ve heard stories about you, Aïssata Doumbia,” he said, his voice suddenly colder, more calculating. “You’re not like the others. Why is that?”

I could feel the weight of his gaze, his scrutiny drilling into me, but I didn’t flinch. “Maybe I’m just tired of being treated like crap by your kind.”

A silence stretched between us again, this one thicker, loaded with something more than just words. Koffi looked at me with a mixture of irritation and... curiosity? It was the curiosity that made me uncomfortable. It wasn’t normal for someone like him to care about anything that didn’t serve him.

He motioned to Adama, who immediately pulled out his phone. “Find out everything you can about her,” Koffi ordered. “I want to know why she’s so... different.”

Adama nodded and began tapping away on his screen, not bothering to hide the interest in his eyes. But the entire exchange felt like a game to Koffi, one that I wasn’t sure I was ready to play.

I straightened up, ready to leave them to their meal, but then I felt it—the faintest shift in the air, a strange pull toward Koffi. A scent. Not his cologne, but something else, something familiar.

My body froze, my pulse suddenly pounding in my ears. I didn’t know what it was, but it triggered something deep inside me, something primal. I could feel it now—the heat, the connection—and my breath hitched.

Koffi’s eyes narrowed as if he sensed it too. He inhaled deeply, his gaze turning intense, locking onto mine. “Why does she smell like... us?” he growled low, his voice dripping with suspicion and something darker.

I didn’t know how to respond. I was just as confused as he was. The last thing I needed was for Koffi Mensah to figure out that there was more to me than a simple waitress. And the last thing I needed was for him to look at me like that—like I wasn’t just a human.

But it was already too late. The damage had been done.

"Why... does she smell like... us?" Koffi repeated, his voice dangerously quiet.

And the room seemed to freeze.