Prologue 1: Owen
The calendar on the wall is mocking me.
I just know it is.
February again.
Worst.Month.Ever.
Not because it’s cold.Not because the power grid in this part of Texas is held together by optimism and chewing gum.And not even because every four years the universe decides to toss in an extra day just to see if we’ll snap.
Nope.
It’s that damn holiday right in the middle of it all.
Valentine’s Day.
The bane of my existence.
Some people say it’s a scam invented by greeting card companies and chocolatiers with too much time and not enough shame.
Others get googly-eyed and giddy over it, like they’ve been waiting their whole damn lives to post a picture of heart-shaped pancakes and a poorly filtered couples selfie.
And sure, I play it off.Grumble.Roll my eyes.Pretend I don’t give a shit.
But the truth?
It gets to me.
Always has.
Maybe it’s the way the whole damn town suddenly smells like desperation and bad decisions wrapped in glitter.
Or maybe it’s because once upon a time, a very long time ago, I thought I’d get a Valentine of my own.
A special someone to walk through the madness with.
Someone who saw past the Lone Wolf snarl and into the man underneath.
Spoiler alert: that didn’t happen.
Instead, I got a job I never asked for—babysitting a town full of supernaturals with short fuses and longer claws.I got fifteen years of fending off disaster with a badge in one hand and tranquilizer darts in the other.
I got solitude.Quiet.Routine.
Peace.
And it was fine.
Until about twenty-three minutes ago.
That’s when she showed up with her government credentials and her smart mouth and her apple pie-wildfire scent that won’t get the hell out of my head.
Now I’m pacing my office like a lunatic, glancing at the damn calendar like it’s counting down to doomsday.
February 14th.
I should hate it.
