Chapter 5 MY WOLF

Was I special?

Then it made sense if Kate was sealed. That means I have to be careful when shifting in places I don't feel safe.

Being special is the last thing I want right now.

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***THE NEXT MORNING***

As I shifted on the bed, rolling side by side.

Contemplating getting up from the bed and looking for a job.

If I stayed here all day, I wouldn't be able to afford my daily necessities.

With a groan, I dragged my body away from the comfort of the bed even though it was not the most pleasant bed it was still better than my former one.

I got ready and went downstairs.

"Good morning sir and thank you for yesterday," I greeted him and thanked him for what he did yesterday.

He just smiled and two little dots appeared on his cheek, his dimples are so cute.

"Anything for a cute girl," he said, his dimples deepening as he reached for his ledger. "But don't mistake being kind for weakness, kid. The world out there doesn't go easy on people like you-so you stand strong."

What he said made something inside me feel whole. No one had ever spoken to me like that before.

My dad only ever looked down on me and he made sure i knew my place, and my sister made sure to rub it in my face on how I was an outcast and alone.

The whole pack treated me like a stain they couldn't wash away. Never once... never once did anyone handle me so... gently.

But here he was-an innkeeper with tired eyes and warm dimples-making me feel like I mattered. This is the first time in forever I felt seen.

I lowered my eyes, my voice in a whisper. "Thank you... You don't know what that means to me."

What he said gave me strength to keep pushing and loving myself because no one would love me more than myself.

He nodded, still smiling, as he busied himself with wiping the counter.

I pushed open the inn's door, stepping into the noise and chaos of the new town. The streets smelled of smoke, fried food, and possibility.

My heart hammered in my chest.

I wasn't just the wolf-less loser they said I was.

I was Ella, hungry and ready to fight for myself, no more playing small.

I walked and scouted for job opportunities in the foreign city.

But I wasn't qualified for those big white collar jobs, a waitress would do just fine.

I have been rejected by three restaurants. They weren't hiring.

My eyes caught hold of a large building.

Dallas Diner's, it stood massively with the refined brown color. I walked into the restaurant, and it was bursting with people eating across different tables.

The scent of grilled meat and fresh bread hit me the second I stepped in. My stomach growled in betrayal, reminding me I hadn't eaten since yesterday. I pressed a hand against it, hoping no one noticed.

The place was alive with chatter-forks clinking, children laughing, and waitresses weaving through tables like dancers in a hurry.

For a moment, I froze by the door, afraid they'd all turn and see me, the outsider who didn't belong.

But no one even looked my way.

I exhaled and made my way to the counter, where a tall man with rolled-up sleeves was scribbling something on a pad.

His face was stern, jaw sharp, but his eyes-dark and observant-lifted to me before I even said a word.

"Help you?" His voice carried authority, the kind that didn't like to be wasted on small talk.

I swallowed hard. "I... I'm looking for a job, sir. As a waitress, or anything really." My voice cracked on the last word, and I cursed myself inside.

He eyed me up and down, not with cruelty but with the kind of scrutiny that made me feel naked.

My heart pounded in my ears. I could almost hear Kate whispering in my head, Stand tall, Ella.

The man leaned on the counter. "We're always drowning during rush hours. You got experience?"

"No," I admitted, voice small, "but I learn fast."

He arched a brow, clearly unimpressed.

In that moment, I thought he was about to laugh me out the door just like the others.

But then, one of the waitresses stumbled, nearly dropping a tray of drinks. Instinct moved me before thought did.

I caught the tray just as it tilted, saving the glasses from shattering on the ground.

The waitress gasped, thanking me breathlessly, but the man behind the counter only smirked, his eyes narrowing in interest.

"Well," he said slowly, "maybe you're not as hopeless as you look."

I straightened, meeting his gaze this time. "Give me a chance. I'll prove it."

For a moment, silence stretched between us. Then he sighed, scribbling something on the pad before tearing it off.

"Fine. Trial shift. Don't make me regret it, kid."

My hands trembled a little as I took the note, but inside, fire roared to life. This was it-the first door that didn't slam shut in my face.

And I wasn't about to waste it.

The note he gave me had a single word scrawled across it-"Tonight."

I clutched it like it was a golden ticket, my palms sweaty. He didn't give me a smile and didn't even offer reassurance. He just turned back to his pad like I was already forgotten.

But that was fine. I didn't need soft words. I needed a chance. And he had just given me one.

I slipped outside the diner, my sandals slapping against the pavement as the noise of the street wrapped around me again.

Tonight.

That word kept replaying in my head, like a drumbeat. It was both terrifying and thrilling.

I knew I had to be ready. That meant energy, focus, and no distractions. But the truth was-I didn't even know if I owned the right clothes for "work."

My shoes were already damaged, and my shirt was slightly faded from too many washes. Would they laugh at me if I showed up looking like this?

Kate's voice stirred faintly in my chest, tired but present. "You don't need fancy things to prove yourself, Ella. You just need grit."

Her tone was firm, almost teasing. It made me roll my eyes. Easy for you to say; you're a wolf with fur. No one judges a wolf by their sneakers.

But she was right.

By the time evening rolled in, the streets of the city had shifted. The sky turned dusky orange, and the lamps flickered awake one by one.

I stood in front of Dallas Diner again, my fingers gripping the door handle, nerves chewing me alive from the inside.

This was it. My first real step toward independence.

I inhaled deeply, pushing the door open. The same symphony of clinking forks and chatter washed over me, but this time, I wasn't just an outsider. I was part of it-or at least, trying to be.

The stern man spotted me instantly, nodding once, wordlessly. He jerked his chin toward the back.

"Apron's hanging on the hook. Get moving."

No "welcome." No "good luck." Just a command.

I slipped into the apron, tying it around my waist, my heart racing. The fabric felt heavier than it looked, like it carried all the expectations of the place.

The waitress I had helped earlier gave me a small smile as she passed by with another tray. "Don't let him scare you. He's all bark, no bite."

If only she knew how ironic that sounded to me.

"Ready?" the man asked sharply, appearing by my side.

I straightened my back and held my head high, meeting his gaze with as much courage as I could summon. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Then let's see if you sink or swim."

And just like that, I was tossed into the chaos-tables waiting, orders flying, voices demanding.

It was terrifying. It was exhausting. But with every tray I carried, with every order I didn't mess up, a little voice inside whispered:

You're not just surviving, Ella. You're living.