Amos raked his fingers through his hair, keeping the spikes in place. He’d been working doubles in that coffee shop for weeks, trying to catch a glimpse of that girl. He’d heard so much about Katerina Alkaevna that he almost knew her before she even walked up to the counter. The way her friend was possessive, the way she herself would seem timid, even though raw power practically burst from her veins. Then there was the matter of her beauty. He’d heard about her, about the way she believed herself to be invisible because of her accentuated curves and slight imperfections. But that had done nothing to prepare him for the way in which she looked at him. If there was anything wrong with her, it was that she was too beautiful. It almost hurt him to look at her for too long, afraid that he might see...

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