THE ALPHA'S UNEXPECTED MATE: The Cursed Bloodline

CLARA'S POV

"Oh no! I'm late." Mr Davidson is going to have my head for this, and I had nobody to blame but myself and my complete lack of self-control.

"If I lose my job, I am so going to drop this obsession". I said inwardly, knowing well that it isn't going to happen.

By the time I burst through the front doors of the restaurant, Ariella was already looking at me with pure pity.

Ari had been my best friend since forever, and I don't know what I'd do without her. Unfortunately, right behind her was Mr Davidson, and he was staring as if he wanted to burrow a hole in my head. If a look could kill, I would already be six feet under.

"Miss Smith," Mr Davidson's voice sliced through the dining room. "I clearly warned you not to mess up after the stunt you pulled last week, or you would be fired.

"I'm sorry, Mr Davidson," I said, trying to hide myself in front of Ari. "I slept late. I was-" I cut myself off just in time before admitting I had spent the night reading the new novel I got.

"Miss Smith, I have nothing more to say. You're fired."

"Mr Davidson, please." Panic surged through me. I knew it could take weeks to find another job that paid well enough to cover my rent and other necessities, so I dropped to my knees, grasping for anything that might work.

"I've never missed a shift before this month. I'll take the worst tables for the rest of the week, no complaints, no breaks. Just give me one more chance to prove it."

Ari immediately dropped down beside me. "Mr Davidson, please don't fire Clara. You wouldn't find a replacement quickly, and this place is already swamped. We need every hand we can get." She paused, pitching her voice into her most persuasive tone.

"I know you've warned her many times, but please forgive her one last time. She won't be late again. You have my word, and if she is, you can fire me too."

Mr Davidson pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh. "Miss Peters, can I really trust you on this? You know your friend, and you know your job, and I wouldn't want to lose you."

"You have my word, sir."

"Just this once, Miss Peters. Because I trust you." I looked at Ari and mouthed a thank you.

"Get back to work, Miss Smith," he grunted.

"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir." As we hurried back toward the service station, Ari leaned in, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper.

"Girl, what have you been doing?" I scratched my head nervously. I might have escaped getting fired, but I knew I wasn't escaping Ari's anger.

She was a completely different person when she was mad, and unfortunately, I couldn't lie to her. She always knew.

"Well, I..."

"Don't you dare lie to me, CLARA ELIZABETH THE THIRD SMITH," she hissed under her breath.

"I wasn't going to!" I whispered back.

"Okay, fine, I was reading the new book I got it, it was so hard to put down. I woke up and I had already missed my alarm." Ari gripped my arm, her eyes wide.

"How many times have I warned you not to do that when you have work? I just put my entire job on the line for you!"

Before I could apologize, a deep male voice called out from a nearby booth. "Excuse me, can we get a waiter over here?"

"I've got it!" I blurted, grateful for the sudden escape. I hurried toward the table, ignoring the sharp glare Ari shot after me.

The booth was occupied by two men, and the sight of them almost made me trip over my own feet.

The man on the left was jaw-droppingly handsome, with dark hair combed neatly to the back without a single strand out of place and striking ocean blue eyes that seemed almost unnaturally intense. Beside him sat a blonde man with his hair tied back into a loose bun, he had a set of vibrant green eyes.

I didn't realize I was staring until the blonde man cleared his throat with a light smirk.

"Excuse me, Miss. We'd like to place our order." My face burned.

"Welcome to Your Fill. What can I get started for you?"

The blonde glanced at the menu. "Beefsteak tartare and a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon."

"And for you?" I asked, turning to the dark-haired man.

He didn't look up. His gaze was fixed firmly on his phone, but his jaw was clenched so tight a muscle ticked in his cheek. I cleared my throat and tried again, a little louder.

"Sir?" Still nothing.

"He'll have the same thing. He isn't usually like this." The handsome blonde man said with a grin.

I jotted down the order then headed back to the kitchen.

The cook prepped the tartare while I brought the wine glasses out first. But by the time I returned with the main dishes, the booth was empty.

They were gone.

They hadn't touched their drink, but a stack of bills for the drinks and meal that hadn't been had sat between the menus, alongside a ridiculously generous tip.

I stared at the empty booth for a moment, an odd sense of restlessness settling in my chest, before clearing the wooden table.

By the time my shift finally ended, my feet were aching. After saying goodbye to Ari, I decided to walk home to stretch my legs and let the crisp night air clear my head.

I was only a few blocks from my apartment when I noticed red and blue police lights flashing ahead, blocking off the main avenue alongside a loud, chaotic commotion.

Not wanting to get caught in whatever mess was happening, I detoured toward the side streets. Ahead was a shortcut that saved fifteen minutes and my aching feet. I paused at the entrance, pulled out my phone.

The battery icon flashed a red 3%, but I managed to click on the flashlight before stepping in. Halfway through, the temperature dropped.

The hair on my neck rose, and I knew, with the certainty of someone who has read too many paranormal thrillers, that I was being watched.

Don't run, I told myself. Running is what the girl who dies does.

I stopped dead in my tracks, swept the narrow beam of my phone flashlight across the dumpsters and fire escape. Nothing but darkness stared back at me.

"I know you're there," I said. I hated how small my voice sounded.

"I'm calling the cops. They're literally one street over."

Nothing.

Then I heard the faintest scrape of a shoe on gravel behind me. I spun around and swung my phone at the dark.

It connected with something solid, and a low, startled grunt came out of the shadows.

"So much for that rule," I said under my breath.

"Run, Clara, run." My feet moved faster, the cold air burning my throat as my pulse hammered against my ribs. Shortcut my ass. My phone screen flickered once and died.

Something slammed into my back, The air left my lungs, and my head cracked my head against the ground.

The last thing I registered was warmth at my throat and a voice that didn't sound like a monster's. It sounded terrified.

Then everything went dark.