Chapter 2
Krystal
I spent the last few hours of my shift with an unfamiliar, electric current flowing under my skin, left behind from Zaden’s touch. Every time I glanced toward the bar’s far end, Zaden was there, pretending not to watch me but never missing a detail. When I moved through the room, his gaze followed.
Some would think that was creepy, but that wasn’t what I felt coming from him.
My wolf sensed his interest in me. Tingles skittered up my spine every time Zaden was watching me.
It confused me because my wolf had reacted to him as if he were our mate.
Was he just looking for a good time? Then he’d have to go find someone else to play with.
I had a son who took all my attention, so the last thing I needed was to hook up with my boss.
When I met Zaden moments ago, my first thought, after the initial jolt of holy hell, he’s hot, was that it suddenly made sense why the owner of Z’s Place had been a legend but never an actual, physical presence.
He was a dragon, and like the rest of the Beck Clan dragons, he would've been in a ten-year hibernation for the last decade.
For years, the bar had been run by the bar manager, Kenneth, but I'd never known why.
I busied myself through the Friday night rush, pouring drinks and working the tables. Angel and the other bartender, Shay, ribbed me at every opportunity. They were wolves and part of my pack.
"You’re making the new boss nervous," Shay said, sidling up beside me with a tray full of empty tumblers. Her green eyes sparkled. "He’s watching you like a hawk."
"Like a dragon," I corrected, stacking glasses for the dishwasher. "And he’s not nervous. He’s probably critiquing my technique."
Angel piped up from the other side of the bar, "I don’t think technique is what he’s interested in."
I rolled my eyes and let their laughter wash over me.
Old Krystal, pre-mom Krystal, who had no impulse control, would have flirted back twice as hard, maybe even tried to see if an ancient dragon shifter could drink her under the table.
But I’d worked too hard to carve out something stable for Bryce and me.
If there was anything ten years of single parenting taught me, it was how to ignore distraction.
And yet.
Every time Zaden moved, I caught it. The subtle way he redirected a drunken regular away from a tipsy college girl. The easy way he charmed the kitchen staff and how he cleaned up a spill before anyone could even point it out.
He wasn’t just handsome, he was gorgeous. And, when he caught me staring back once, he flashed a crooked smile that made me want to punch something.
It was almost a relief when a group of out-of-towners surged through the door ten minutes before last call, demanding shots and food and more shots. I pivoted into high gear, barking orders, weaving through bodies, and mentally calculating how many tips would be left after all the chaos.
That’s when Zaden jumped in, and not in the "I’m a boss helping out" kind of way. He sidled up next to me, rolled his sleeves, and started mixing drinks faster than Shay could set out the glasses. He remembered every order, even the complicated ones, without writing anything down. His hands worked with the practiced ease of someone who’d done this for centuries and had just gotten back from a ten-year sleep.
"It’s like you never left," I said, sliding a gin and tonic toward him as we caught up on the final round.
He grinned. "I always enjoyed bar work. It's simple. Honest."
I wiped down the bar, feeling oddly seen. Most people, most wolves, even, took a while to get past my resting bitch face. Zaden didn’t seem fazed at all.
"You know," he said conspiratorially, "if you ever want to take a night off, I could cover for you."
I arched an eyebrow. "I’m not sure if that’s a threat or a promise."
He leaned in, close enough that I caught the scent of bourbon and something darker, more ancient. "Why not both?"
Angel whistled from down the bar. "You two need to get a room, or should we keep serving drinks?"
"Back off, Angel," I called, but I was grinning. "You’re jealous because he’s better at mixing than you are."
Angel cackled. "Damn straight. But I look better in heels."
Zaden laughed, a full, bright sound that filled the bar and made a few heads turn. He tapped the counter, then turned to me. "You’re off tomorrow, right? Want to grab dinner? Or breakfast? Or both?"
It was the way he said it, no pressure, just a suggestion, as if he’d be perfectly fine with any answer. Still, my mind did the usual calculus. Was it smart to date my boss? Even if the boss was a literal immortal dragon? What would Bryce think?
"Maybe," I hedged, keeping my tone casual. "I’m not big on dating."
He considered that. "Is it the dating part you don’t like or the men?"
I snorted. "Both."
He looked delighted. "Challenge accepted."
Before I could come up with a retort, Angel slid a stack of tip-outs across the bar. "You’re free, Krystal. Go home and stop torturing the man."
I snapped off my apron and grabbed the cash. "Thanks, Angel. Don’t burn the place down."
"Not unless you want overtime," she shot back.
I gave Zaden a nod. "I’ll think about the dinner."
He winked. "I’ll be here."
I stepped outside into the thick, late-summer air, the scent of honeysuckle and barbecue smoke curling through the night. The urge to run off the tension buzzed in my bones.
Stock Creek was small, but it wasn’t dead. Cars lined the curb, music drifted from open windows, and porch lights glowed in every direction. I walked home, letting my mind wander.
My cottage was set well back from the main road, tucked behind a wild tangle of forsythia and lilac bushes on pack land.
I unlocked the door and stepped inside. The cottage was tiny but perfect.
Every wall was covered in bookshelves, and most surfaces held some kind of art project, half-finished paintings, a stained-glass sun catcher, the guts of an old radio I’d been meaning to fix.
My guitar leaned against the corner by the battered armchair.
The kitchen was cramped, but I could cook dinner and help Bryce with homework at the same time.
Speaking of. I glanced at the clock. He’d be at Nathan’s house, probably begging for another round of Mario Kart with Elle before their big pack camping trip tomorrow.
The thought of Bryce, half-wolf and all boy, made me smile.
He’d been my whole world since the moment I saw two pink lines on a stick, even if I hadn’t planned for him.
Maybe especially because I hadn’t planned for him.
My rule had always been simple. No man meets Bryce unless I’m sure he’s worth it. None had made it past the front porch in all ten years of his life.
I changed into running shorts, laced up my shoes, and hit the trail behind my house. The woods beyond Stock Creek always hummed at night, full of cicadas and the distant yip of a coyote. I broke into a sprint.
After a mile or so, I stripped off my clothes, tucking them behind a tree, and then let myself shift. My fur was a silvery grey that caught moonlight and made me feel weightless. For a few glorious minutes, I ran full-out, claws tearing up the soft loam, every muscle focused on movement and speed.
When I finally looped back, I shifted back to my human form and slowed to a walk, sweat cooling on my skin. When I reached the tree where my clothes were, I put them on and headed back to my cabin.
Tomorrow, Bryce would leave for three days of hiking, swimming, and learning the finer points of wolf etiquette from Nathan and the other pack dads. I’d have a whole weekend to myself. Sounded peaceful until I realized I had no idea what to do with it.
Back at the cottage, I showered, pulled on an old concert tee, and scrolled through my phone. There were three missed texts from Rissa, two memes from Tavi, and a calendar reminder to pick up s’mores supplies.
I called Nathan first. "Hey, I’m coming by in the morning to see Bryce off."
My uncle’s voice was warm and steady, as always. "He’s been counting down. Elle’s making pancakes. You want some?"
"You know I do," I said. "Tell Rissa I’ll bring coffee."
He snorted. "She’ll love you forever."
We hung up, and I stared at the ceiling, my brain refusing to wind down.
My thoughts circled back to Zaden. His eyes, the confidence, the way he’d made me feel important without even trying.
His voice had a weird familiarity, but I dismissed it as wishful thinking.
I’d slept with exactly one man in the past decade, a one-night stand in a Nashville hotel, when I was still stupid enough to think a pretty face could solve my problems. The only thing I remembered clearly about him was that he’d called himself Bob.
My cheeks flushed. God, I hoped Zaden hadn't heard that particular story. Not too many people knew it, the origin of my Bryce.
I tried to read, but my mind wandered. Eventually, I gave in and called Tavi. "Bitch, it’s Friday night," she answered, not even a hello. "Shouldn’t you be making bank?"
"Shift just ended. I have gossip."
"Does it involve sex, murder, or small-town scandal?"
"Maybe all three," I said, laughing. "My boss showed up. The actual owner of the bar. Turns out he’s a dragon."
There was a beat of silence, then, "You’re shitting me. Are you safe? Is he hot?"
"Safe, yes. He’s part of the Beck Clan. And he’s hot. Like, might-make-me-break-my-no-dating rule hot."
She squealed so loud I had to hold the phone away. "Yes! Krystal, you deserve a little fun. Please tell me you’re going to hit that."
"I’m not hitting anything," I protested. "He’s my boss. But yeah, he asked me out."
"Which means you’re obligated to say yes," Tavi replied. "It’s like, a law. Or a Taylor Swift song."
I snorted. "I thought you’d tell me to run."
"I would, but you never listen to me anyway. Besides, you could do worse than a dragon. They’re loaded. And hot. And did I mention loaded?"
"Money isn’t everything," I said, but I was smiling. Money definitely didn't hurt.
"Maybe not, but it buys a lot of therapy. Do it, Krystal. Go on the date. Don’t let him meet Bryce unless he survives at least three rounds of Mario Kart and a background check."
I laughed. "Deal."
We talked for another half hour, Tavi alternating between giving me shit and offering surprisingly good advice. When I hung up, the anxiety had faded to a low, pleasant hum. For once, the weekend stretched ahead of me with possibilities.
I fell asleep wondering what it would feel like to let someone in, just a little.