6. A Latte, And Your Name

Aella

Life has a way of becoming mundane, a dull routine of getting up, going to work and coming back home. Two years since my escape, two years since I severed all ties with my past, with the responsibilities that once threatened to suffocate me.

Now, I live in a small town far away from my pack, my family, and most importantly, from Roman, the man who believed he owned me just because he is an Alpha.

Each day bleeds into the next, a swirl of lattes, bagels, and forced smiles. I work at “The Corner Café,” a place small enough that it’s never crowded but just popular enough to keep afloat.

I made one friend, Sam, at the cafe where I work. He’s a gorgeous Greek God of a man who also happens to be exceptionally gay, much to some of the female patrons’ dismay.

But no one knows me here, not really. They know my face, my voice, even my schedule. But not me—not Aella. And I prefer it that way.

I still look over my shoulder everyday, though; I haven’t let my guard down at all. When I walk