Deacon Frost—6’2”, lean, muscular, and carved from chaos—stepped into the coffee shop dressed like sin in a suit. Half-human, half-vampire, he walked the line between both worlds with deadly precision. A major name in the human business world, a phantom in the vampire underworld. Power dripped off him like the chill of midnight air.

He was used to control. To people getting out of his way. To never being touched—until her.

The bump was innocent. Accidental. But everything about it rewired his hunger.

Her hands landed on his biceps—soft, startled. His hands instinctively caught her waist. Warmth. Curves. Cocoa butter and innocence wrapped in one accidental moment. Wide, startled eyes met his cold, predator gaze—and something snapped inside him.

Obsession. Addiction. Instantly.

Deacon (low, silk-smooth): “You alright, sweetheart?”

He didn’t let go right away. Didn’t want to. In a world where he had everything—businesses, blood, power—he hadn’t known he was missing her. But now? Now he did. And Deacon Frost never let go of what was his.