Alpha Noah

considering I hardly make money that doesn't go toward rent. This, however, is completely justified. I can't tell if that hooded man was trying to help me, but I'm not taking risks. Thankfully, t

y. She's clearly distracted by someone who has just walked into the bar, so I glance over my shoulder to see what has gotten her interest so quickly. She even speaks up about it. "Do you see that guy? God he's cute." Her gaze leads to a man who walks in, shoulders slouched, hat shoved on his head. From where I sit, I can't see much of his face, which seems to be the point with what he wears and the way he walks. "Stop staring," I scold Sam, who seems to be staring dreamily at him. Either she is desperate, or sees more than I do. "He looks like he's had a bad day." "Then let's call him over." There was no chance to hush Sam, as she calls the man over with some flirtatious remark which makes him halt in his step to look up at us. I see a flash of dark eyes before he looks down again. Much to my surprise, he saunters over, sudden air of confidence in his step. Now he has our attention, he seems much more brazen. He slides into the booth, right next to Sam. I sit on the other side, nervously fiddling with my fingers under the table. He glances up at me, and for a full minute, I'm practically struck by the entire look at him, it has all the hair on my body standing on end. "Good evening girls. I'm glad to see you," he says with an accent that is practically magical. It lingers in the air, making me shiver. Then, he flips off his hat Both Sam and I flinch at the sight of him. His eyes, although normal, are sharp and focused, staring so deeply into my soul it's unnerving. His skin glows flawlessly under the lights of the bar, confirming an exotic, otherworldly look about him. His hair is the most ethereal part of him. The roots of his hair grow a brilliant golden colour before fading out into thick, inky darkness on the end. He's clearly speaking to me, but his voice is muffled in my ears. Sam seems as dumbfounded as me, wondering how such a perfect creature is sitting out our table. There doesn't seem to be a single flaw from his round eyes, defined cheekbones and straight jawline. "It's nice to meet you Cian, this is Abella," I hear Sam say, snapping me out of my trance. Blinking a few times, I look up at the stranger, who stares blatantly at me. "Beautiful name," he breathes. Not once does his gaze ever falter. "Hello," is all I say. I'm not so sure why I'm struck by this man. Maybe because he is clearly not normal, nor from this world. It seems foolish to think like that, since I doubt he is immortal, yet he looks so different. Maybe he is from the Desire Pack, where dying hair and looking eccentric is expected of people there. I expect this stranger, named Cian, to turn his attention to Sam.