Aria Valderi is a day walker, a vampire that can walk in the sun. Being a descendant of the original queen of the vampires has its perks, but finding out her mate is a wolf shifter isn't one of them. He's insufferable, bossy, and too damn sexy for his own good.

Trevan Stone knows Aria is his. Unfortunately, his tough little vamp has been wreaking all kinds of havoc and now too many people want her dead. It's going to take more than Trevan can do as a shifter to protect his woman.

Trevan has a secret. One that could put an end to their future together, but it’s not nearly as big as the one her people have, which could end the future of the entire clan. If he can save her from the vampire council that wants her destroyed, there might be a chance for them to work through their issues. But saving her means giving up the reason for his existence, the drive that has pushed him for the last eighty years.

Reader Note: This book is all about a sassy plus-sized vampire who knows what she wants and a hot, smooth talking alpha wolf who can't fight his need for her. There is massive use of dirty words, so if you're a prude this is not the book for you. If you like sarcasm and hot sex with no filter, this is just your thing. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Mallory

Mallory curled deeper into her oversized armchair. She drew the thick wool blanket tighter around her shoulders as she gazed through the glass-enclosed deck at the distant horizon. The December wind whistled through the tiny gaps in the weathered frame, creating an oddly comforting melody. Dark clouds gathered far across the water, their shapes morphing and twisting like ink dropped in water. The sight sent a familiar tingle down her spine - a storm was coming, and a big one at that.

"Well, isn't that just perfect timing," she muttered, taking a sip of her now-lukewarm tea.

Her pantry supplies would last maybe three days, and with a winter storm of this magnitude approaching, that wouldn't be nearly enough. The last thing she needed was to be trapped in her clifftop house without proper provisions.

The thought of venturing into Saltwater Grove made her stomach clench. She pulled the blanket tighter around herself, as if it could shield her from the inevitable social interaction awaiting in town.

The wind picked up and rattled the windows. The house creaked in response as its old bones settled into the gusts. She had chosen this spot precisely for its isolation – no nosy neighbors, no unexpected visitors, just her and the endless view of the churning ocean below.

She stood up and pressed her forehead against the cool glass, watching her breath fog up the pane. The waves below crashed against the rocky shore with increasing intensity, sending white spray high into the air. The empty house creaked louder around her, its sounds somehow more hollow in December's grey light.

"You're being ridiculous," she told herself firmly. "It's just the grocery store. People don't actually care about your existence." She paused, considering. "It's a quick supply run. In and out. No need for small talk."

But even as she said it, memories of her last trip into town flooded back. Mrs. Henderson's endless questions about why such a "lovely young woman" lived all alone. The pitying looks from the grocery store clerk. The whispered conversations that stopped the moment she walked past.

"Maybe I could just... hibernate?" She glanced around the empty room, her voice echoing slightly. "No, that's not a thing storm witches can actually do. Unfortunately."

She crossed her house to the coat rack and pulled down her heavy winter jacket. The wool was worn from years of use, and the familiar scent of sea salt clung to it. She caught her reflection in the window - her platinum hair falling in waves past her shoulders, her light blue eyes rimmed with shadows from too many sleepless nights.

"Right then," she said, squaring her shoulders. "Quick trip. Essential supplies. No stopping to chat if you can help it, no matter how many times Mrs. Henderson tries to set you up with her nephew." She paused, then added, "And try not to talk to yourself either. People already think you're strange enough."

The wind picked up outside, rattling the windows harder as if in response to her words. She glanced up once more at the sky. The darkening clouds crept closer, and she felt that familiar pull, that connection to the approaching storm that both thrilled and terrified her. There was no putting it off any longer. Time was running out. She grabbed her emergency duffel bag and her laptop bag, erring on the side of caution.

She stepped out onto her front porch, the wooden boards creaking beneath her boots. Delicate snowflakes drifted down from the steel-gray sky, melting as they touched her skin. Her breath formed little clouds in the frigid air as she pulled her coat tighter.

"And here we go," she muttered, fishing her keys from her pocket. The familiar jingle reminded her of Eli – he'd always teased her about the ridiculous number of keychains she collected.

Her SUV sat waiting in the circular driveway, a practical dark blue model that blended with the coastal landscape. As she settled into the driver's seat, the leather cold against her back, she could almost hear Eli's voice: "You know, for someone who can control the weather, you sure complain about the cold a lot."

"I don't control it," she said to the empty car, starting the engine. "I just... encourage it. Sometimes. When it feels like listening."

The drive to Saltwater Grove stretched before her, a winding road hugging the coastline. Waves crashed against the rocks below, their rhythm as familiar as her own heartbeat. The radio remained off – she preferred the sound of the ocean and her own thoughts, even if those thoughts weren't always the best company.

Two years. Had it really been that long since Eli? The memory of his laugh still echoed in her mind, clear as the day she'd first heard it. He'd been the only one who hadn't run when her powers manifested during their first date – a sudden downpour that had soaked them both to the bone.

"Well, that's one way to make sure I remember you," he'd said, grinning as rain plastered his dark hair to his forehead.

Mallory smiled at the memory, then noticed the snowfall increasing. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax. The flakes immediately lightened.

"Sorry," she whispered to the sky. "Got a bit carried away there."

The road curved inland, away from the coast. Signs for Saltwater Grove began appearing – first the population count, then advertisements for local businesses. Each marker brought a fresh wave of anxiety.

"Just groceries," she reminded herself. "In and out. No different than facing down a category four hurricane." She paused. "Actually, the hurricane would be easier. At least storms don't try to set you up on dates."

The snow continued to fall in gentle flurries, matching her carefully maintained calm. She'd learned the hard way that emotional control meant weather control. One panic attack during her college years had resulted in a freak tornado that still made the local weather stations' highlight reels.

As Mallory guided her SUV through Saltwater Grove's streets, the snow started to thicken. She flicked on her wipers to a faster setting, trying to keep her visibility clear through her windshield. Quaint storefronts decorated with twinkling holiday lights passed by in a blur of red and green. The local coffee shop Cauldron & Cup's warmth beckoned through frosted windows, but she kept her eyes fixed ahead.

She soon passed Madame Rosa's Fortune Telling parlor, where the elderly psychic waved enthusiastically from her doorway. "I don't need another prediction about my 'tall, handsome stranger' future today."

Finally, the grocery store parking lot loomed ahead, already filling with other last-minute shoppers preparing for the incoming storm. Mallory pulled into a spot far from the entrance, away from the cluster of cars. A gust of wind rocked her SUV, and she watched snowflakes swirl in mesmerizing patterns across her windshield.

"Well, this is moving faster than expected." She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, contemplating the dark clouds overhead. "At least I'll have an excuse to stay home for a few more days."

The thought of her cozy house, perched on its lonely cliff, brought a smile to her face. Her latest article on "Maximizing Small Spaces with Minimal Effort" was due next week, and she had three new novels waiting on her bedside table. One was a murder mystery that had been taunting her for days – she'd been dying to find out if the butler really did do it.

"Let's see," she said, pulling out her phone to check her to-do list. "Write about throw pillows, solve a fictional murder, and get snowed in by a storm that may or may not be partially my fault." She paused. "Sounds like a perfectly normal weekend."

A strong gust of wind shook her vehicle as she glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror. "Okay, Mal. Time to channel your inner ninja. Get in, get supplies, avoid Mrs. Henderson's nephew stories, and get out. Simple."

The snow continued its relentless descent, transforming the world outside into a winter wonderland. Or a winter nightmare, depending on one's perspective. Either way, Mallory knew she would soon be tucked away in her sanctuary, safe from both the storm and social obligations.

"Just think," she told herself, gathering her courage to leave the car, "in a few hours, it'll be just you, a cup of hot chocolate, and your cozy mystery novel."

Mallory navigated her cart through the grocery store's fluorescent-lit aisles, her boots squeaking against the linoleum floor. The store radio crackled with an old Christmas song about silver bells and winter wonderlands. She checked her list, focusing on essentials: coffee, bread, soup, and batteries.

"Let's see, where did they move the—" Her words cut off as she passed the bakery section. The scent of fresh-baked cinnamon rolls hit her like a wave, and suddenly she was back in her kitchen two years ago, Eli dancing around with flour on his nose.

"You're supposed to put the flour inside the rolls, not all over yourself," she'd teased him that morning.

"But then how would you know I'm the baker?" He'd grabbed her waist, leaving floury handprints on her shirt.

The wind howled loudly outside and jolted her back to reality. Through the store's front windows, she watched the snow falling harder – her emotions bleeding into the weather again. Mallory took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus on her shopping list.

"Paper towels, laundry detergent—" She paused, her hand hovering over a box of Earl Grey tea.

The elderly woman sorting through canned goods in the cart next to her shot her a concerned look.

"Just practicing my list out loud," Mallory explained, offering what she hoped was a normal-looking smile. "Helps me remember things better."

The woman nodded slowly and wheeled her cart away, probably to tell everyone about the strange witch talking to herself in the tea aisle.

"And this is why you typically shop online," Mallory muttered, dropping the tea into her cart anyway. It had been Eli's favorite. Sometimes she bought it just to smell it steeping, remembering lazy Sunday mornings when he'd bring her breakfast in bed.

Her cart wheels squeaked as she turned down the soup aisle. The metal shelves groaned under the weight of countless cans, their labels a blur of reds and whites. She'd need at least a week's worth, just to be safe. The approaching storm felt big – the kind that could knock out power lines and keep roads closed for days.

"Perfect excuse to avoid the winter festival," she said to herself, selecting several cans of chicken noodle soup. "Sorry, Mrs. Henderson, can't make it to meet your nephew. Snowed in. What a shame."

Outside, the wind gusted harder, and the fluorescent lights flickered overhead. A few shoppers glanced nervously at the ceiling, but Mallory just sighed. At least when she was alone in her house, she didn't have to worry about her emotional weather patterns inconveniencing anyone else.