The rhythmic buzz of the tattoo gun filled Kristen's shop, a familiar symphony that usually drowned out the world's annoyances. Today, however, Jacob's incessant fidgeting was testing her patience. His shaggy black hair, perpetually falling into his crystal-clear blue eyes, seemed to mock her as he ran his hands through it, a nervous habit she'd come to associate with her less-than-stoic clients.

"Just about," she muttered, her gaze fixed on the intricate lines of the Blue Fang crest taking shape on his chest. Jacob, with his impressive muscles and 6'1" frame, was undeniably handsome, but his endless string of fleeting dates made him utterly predictable. "Can't be representing our pack badly, can we?" she added, a hint of her usual sarcasm in her voice.

The door chimed, and a familiar posse strode in. Colt, her twin brother and the future Alpha, was at the forefront, his dark eyes instantly zeroing in on her. "You skip the last hour?" he asked, his voice laced with the usual big-brother command.

Kristen rolled her eyes, ignoring him. She dipped her gun into the rich blue ink, the cool metal a comforting weight in her hand. "Suck it up," she told Jacob as he flinched, a low growl rumbling in his chest. She might be a girl, but her Alpha blood ran thick and true. Just as she was about to resume, the door chimed again, and a stranger stepped in. His black hair was gelled back, and his green eyes, sharp and assessing, landed on Kristen, making her world pause. A leather jacket hugged his muscular frame, but it was his tight jeans and biker boots that truly caught her attention. This was going to be an interesting afternoon.