Chapter One
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Tessa
The café smells likecoffee and cinnamon rolls, the kind of smell that’s supposed to be comforting.It’s four-thirty in the morning, and I’m the only one here as I move through the familiar routine of flipping chairs off tables and firing up the espresso machine.The hiss and gurgle of water heating fills the silence, and for a moment, I let myself believe everything is normal.
Crystal Creek was supposed to be quiet.Safe.The kind of place where nothing ever happens and people mind their own business.That’s why I came here two years ago, leaving behind a life I’d rather forget.Here, I’m just Tessa, the woman who opens Betty’s Café before dawn and serves coffee with a smile that’s become easier over time.
I flip the sign to “Open” and unlock the door, letting the cold Alaska air rush in.It’s November, and the darkness outside is thick and absolute, broken only by the streetlights that line Main Street.The first flakes of snow are falling, drifting down like white ash.
The bell above the door chimes at exactly five o’clock.
I don’t need to look up to know who it is.I’ve gotten so used to his routine that I could set my watch by it.Heavy boots on the worn floorboards, the creak of the same booth in the back corner, the rustle of a newspaper being unfolded.Vex.Always in the same spot, always silent, always watching.
“Morning,” I call out, reaching for a mug without waiting for an order.Black coffee, no sugar, no cream.Same as every day for the past two years.
He doesn’t answer.He never does.Just a slight nod, his dark eyes tracking me as I walk over with the pot.When I set the mug down in front of him, his fingers brush against mine, only for a second, and I feel that same electric jolt I always do.The one that makes my stomach flip and my pulse quicken before I can remind myself this man is dangerous.
Vex is the VP of the Kings of Anarchy, the MC that runs this town whether or not people want to admit it.He’s also something else, something I’ve seen glimpses of in the dark—white eyes that glow like moonlight, movements too fast to be human, a stillness that’s more predator than man.
I know what he is.I’ve known since that night he saved me from the Kings of Anarchy MC, when his eyes went white and his fangs came down and I screamed loud enough to wake the dead.But we don’t talk about it.We don’t talk about anything.He sits in his booth, drinks his coffee, reads his newspaper, and I pretend the most dangerous man I’ve ever met isn’t obsessed with me.
Because he is.I can feel it in the way he watches me, the way he positions himself between me and the door as though he’s guarding something precious.The way his jaw tightens when other men look at me for too long.
I should be terrified.Maybe I am, a little.But there’s something else underneath the fear, something warm and dangerous that I refuse to name.
“Busy night?”I ask, wiping down the table next to his.It’s a stupid question.Vex doesn’t do small talk.
But today, he surprises me.His eyes lift from the paper, and he studies me for a long moment.There’s something different in his expression—a tightness around his mouth, a crease between his dark brows.
“Stay close to town today,” he says finally, his voice rough like gravel.“Don’t go walking alone after dark.”
My hand stills on the table.“Why?What’s wrong?”
He doesn’t answer right away, just folds his newspaper with precise movements and sets it aside.When he looks at me again, there’s something in his eyes that makes my breath catch.Not the white glow of his vampire nature, but something darker.Worry.
“Just stay close,” he repeats, standing up and dropping a twenty on the table for a three-dollar-fifty cup of coffee.“And keep your doors locked.”
Then he’s gone, the bell chiming his exit, leaving me standing there with my heart pounding and a cold knot forming in my stomach.
The day passes in ablur of customers and routine.Old Walt comes in for his usual breakfast special.Sarah from the post office stops by for her afternoon latte.The loggers from the mill fill the place at noon, their laughter and rough jokes filling the space with warmth.
Everything is normal.
Everything is safe.
But Vex’s words echo in my head, and I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong.
It’s Hannah who finally mentions it, sliding into a booth during the afternoon lull with her coffee and that knowing look she gets sometimes.
“You hear about the tracks?”she asks, stirring sugar into her mug.
I look up from refilling the napkin dispensers.“What tracks?”
“Mike found them this morning, out by his property.Animal tracks, but weird.He said they were huge, like something the size of a bear, but the pattern was wrong.And they just...stopped.Right in the middle of a clearing, like whatever made them vanished.”
The cold knot in my stomach tightens.“Could’ve been anything.A moose, maybe.”
