Defy The Alpha(s) - Chapter 664
Chapter 664: The First Horsemen – 3
Noah was completely out of control now, thrashing the manager’s office. The noise drew the attention of the staff, who gathered in the hallway, stunned.
They all knew Noah as the quiet, polite kid, so seeing him explode like this didn’t make sense. It was shocking.
Among the staff who gathered was Ken.
“What’s going on?”
He had stepped into the back of the working area to pick up customer orders, only to find everyone off their stations and peeping at the office.
One of the servers answered under their breath, “The kid’s lost it. Completely.”
Curious, Ken pushed his way through the small crowd until he reached the front and that was when Noah’s gaze snapped to him.
“Speak of the devil,” Noah sneered, his face twisting with rage. “You must be happy, huh?”
Ken was taken aback. “Excuse me?”
He glanced between the furious Noah and the scandalized manager, clearly confused.
Noah got in his face, his voice dripping with poison. “I lose everything even though I work the hardest, and you get rewarded just for having fur and a pretty face. Must be nice being a goddamn werewolf in a world that worships you.”
“Alright, back off.” Ken shoved him, the guy was being aggressive and too close for his liking.
But that single defensive push was all Noah needed to snap. He had been waiting for an excuse. So he pulled back his fist and punched Ken square in the face.
The staff gasped, startled by the sudden violence.
Ken’s head snapped to the side from the impact. A low growl rumbled in his chest, and his eyes flashed gold. It was quite unfortunate werewolves were notorious for their temper, and Noah had just pissed one off.
“No, wait!” Kelly shouted, but it was already too late.
It was just one punch from Ken, but Noah swore he saw his life flash before his eyes. The world spun, and everything went dark.
An hour later, Noah sat on the cold metal bench at the bus stop, nursing a blooming black eye. His head throbbed badly, but it was nothing compared to the humiliation that clung to him like a second skin.
He wished this day had never happened.
He had lost everything — his job, his last bit of dignity — and worst of all, everyone at the diner would remember him as the loser who snapped and got knocked out by a single punch. Ken had dropped him without even trying. It was a brutal reminder of the monumental gap between a human and a werewolf.
The only reason the manager hadn’t pressed charges was because it had been a fight and legal disputes between humans and werewolves were always a nightmare. Long, public, and explosive. No diner wanted that kind of heat.
Besides, Noah had been the aggressor, and even if he wanted to press charges, he didn’t have the money or the strength to fight a system that would likely favor the wolf.
As soon as the bus screeched to a halt, Noah forced himself up from the bench and joined the small crowd shuffling inside. He swiped his transit card, not even remembering how he got it out of his pocket, and stumbled toward an empty seat near the back.
The moment he sat down, he slumped against the cold window, cheek pressed to the glass. He was so tired he couldn’t wait to get home so he could disappear into his mattress — and never wake up.
That sounded like a plan.
A few minutes passed before a prickle on the back of his neck made him lift his head. Across the aisle, a girl about his age was watching him. She looked stunned and Noah realized why. Dried blood streaked from his brow, while his left eye was swollen so badly the skin ballooned into deep purple, and his lip was cracked and split.
He looked like a mess.
His cheek flush with embarrassment. Without a word, he yanked his jacket off his lap and dragged the hood over his face, shielding himself from the girl’s pity, or disgust.
Perfect.
Just what he needed, to be gawked at like a freak.
Then another thought hit him like a punch.
What the hell was he going to tell his father?
Fuck.
He could already imagine the insults, the yelling, and accusations about being weak and useless.
On the bright side, the man would already be passed out drunk. In that case, he’d deal with him tomorrow. One problem at a time.
It wasn’t long before the bus reached his stop. Noah stepped down and trekked the rest of the way to his apartment. He didn’t expect to see a package waiting at their door.
It had his name on it — clearly addressed to him — but there was no information about the sender. No return label and no note.
Perhaps it was his mother?
She probably didn’t want his father tracking her down and causing a scene. They both knew exactly how Anthony could get. The same way he had been today.
Maybe he was his father’s son after all.
For once, the universe seemed to be on his side because the old man was passed out on the couch, snoring, beer still clutched in his hand. Noah quietly slipped into his room before Anthony could wake up and ruin the moment.
He headed straight for the bathroom and washed up, wincing every time his fingers brushed the swollen bruise around his eye.
When Noah came back into the room, his gaze fell on the package resting on the bed. He should have ignored it until the morning, but curiosity won.
Noah tore the package open with anticipation. Except of all the things his mother could have sent him, he had not expected a small container filled with a milky-white substance and a syringe.
Noah wasn’t stupid. This was a drug.
His mother would never send him drugs, and this one in particular came with a folded product information leaflet. Across the front, in bold black letters, was a single word:
IGNIS.