The espresso machine screams like it's dying.
I slam the portafilter against the knock box. Coffee grounds spray everywhere. Don't care. It's Tuesday at Brew & Go, which means chaos—suits yelling into phones, college kids cramming, everyone needing caffeine yesterday.
I like the chaos. Keeps me from thinking.
"Ivy, we got a line!" Jenna hisses from the register, ponytail bouncing. She's sweet. Human. Doesn't know I used to be someone before I became the girl slinging lattes for three-fifty an hour.
I grab the next cup. Grande iced vanilla. Extra ice. No foam.
Three years since I left the pack. Three years since I stood in that white dress and watched my Alpha—my fiancé—announce I wasn't good enough. That I was cursed. That he wouldn't bind himself to something broken.
He wasn't wrong.
I shove it down and focus on the frother. Steam hisses. My hand shakes. I clench my jaw. I'm fine. Always fine.
"Next!" Jenna calls.
I don't look up. Elbow-deep in vanilla syrup when the air changes.
It's pressure. Like the split second before lightning hits. Every hair on my body stands up. My wolf—the one I had sealed three years ago—stirs.
No.
I freeze. My wolf doesn't get to wake up. I paid a witch everything I had to lock her down so deep I'd never shift, never feel a pack pull, never hurt anyone again.
So why the hell is she moving?
"Um, Ivy?" Jenna's voice cracks. "Customer."
I turn around.
He's at the register. Tall. Too tall. Dark hair, sharp jaw, eyes so pale gray they're almost silver under the fluorescents. Black coat that costs more than my rent. And he's staring into me.
Not at me. Into me.
"What can I get you?" Jenna tries to smile, but her voice is tight. She feels it. Predator in the room.
He doesn't answer her. His eyes stay on mine.
"Ivy," he says.
My stomach drops.
I don't know him. Never seen this man in my life. But he said my name like he owns it.
"Do I know you?" I keep my voice flat. Bored.
His mouth curves. Not a smile. Something colder. "You will."
Jenna glances at me. I paste on my customer-service face and step up. "We have a line. If you're not ordering, move."
"Black coffee." He leans against the counter. Casual. Except nothing about him is casual. "And five minutes of your time."
"Coffee I can do. Time costs extra."
His eyes narrow. Then he slides a twenty across the counter. "Keep the change."
Jenna takes it like it might bite. I grab a cup, turn back to the machine. My hands won't stop shaking. My wolf is awake. Not stirring—awake. Clawing at my ribs like she's trying to break through.
What the hell did that witch do to me?
I pour the coffee. Black. I can feel him watching. When I turn around, he's closer. Right at the handoff counter.
"Here." I shove the cup toward him.
He takes it. Doesn't drink. Doesn't look at it. "You've been hiding."
"I've been working."
"In the human world. Suppressing your wolf." His voice drops. I feel it in my chest. "You can't keep running, Ivy."
"I'm not running. I'm standing right here making your coffee." I cross my arms. Pulse hammering. "And I don't know what you think you know about me, but you're wrong. I'm human. I work at a coffee shop. That's it."
"You're lying."
"You're delusional."
His jaw tightens. He sets the cup down. Reaches for me—slow, like he has every right—
My wolf explodes.
Pain rips through my chest. I gasp, stumble back into the espresso machine. The world tilts. White. Red. Black at the edges. Jenna's yelling but her voice sounds underwater.
My wolf is screaming.
Not howling. Screaming. Like she's being torn apart.
And then I feel it. The curse. The one my ex carved into me the day he left me at the altar. The one the witch said she couldn't break, only bury.
It's awake.
"Ivy—" The stranger's voice sharpens. Worried now. He reaches again.
"Don't." I shove his hand away.
The second my skin touches his, everything stops.
The pain. The noise. My wolf. Silent.
We both freeze.
He's staring at his wrist. I'm staring too.
Because there—where I touched him—thin black lines crawl up from the contact point. Like veins. Like ink spreading under his skin.
The curse.
"What—" He looks at me. For the first time, he looks shaken. "What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything." My voice shakes. I back up until I hit the counter. "You need to leave."
"Ivy—"
"I said leave." I meet his eyes. Let him see it. The thing I've been hiding for three years. "One more step and you die."
He doesn't move. The black veins spread slower now, crawling toward his elbow. He looks at them. Then at me.
And then he smiles.
It's not a nice smile.
"You're my mate," he says.
The shop goes dead quiet. Jenna's staring. Two customers by the door have phones out. And I'm standing here shaking, wolf clawing at the seal, a stranger's blood turning black because I touched him.
"No," I whisper. "I'm not anyone's mate. Not anymore."
"Then why's the bond trying to kill me?" He tilts his head. Voice soft. Dangerous. "And why can't I walk away?"
I don't have an answer.
But my wolf does. She's laughing. Howling. Singing like she finally found what she's been looking for.
And the black veins on his wrist?
They're not fading.
They're spelling out a name.