Page 1 of Tater
CHAPTER 1
The First Fire
Years later—long after Shadow’s grip had scarred her, long after the dragon stopped pretending it wasn’t inside her—Ren walked into a bar called The Switchyard, looking for a drink strong enough to burn the memory of that night out of her throat.
The place stank of spilled beer, sweat, and men who liked to hurt things.
Perfect.
She wasn’t bleeding when she walked in.
She wasn’t broken.
She wasn’t anyone’s victim.
She was a storm looking for somewhere to land.
Tater was already there.
Not watching her.
Not hunting her.
Just existing the way men like him did—shoulders broad, jaw rough, eyes that saw everything without giving anything back. He leaned over a pool table like he owned the place without trying.
She noticed him before the fight.
He noticed her during.
Three Hades Hellhounds cornered her.
She warned them once.
The dragon warned them louder.
When the bar lit up with fire and shattered glass, when men scrambled for the exits and someone screamed about angels or demons, Tater didn’t run.
He just set his cue stick down and said:
“Enough.”
No fear.
No judgment.
No awe.
Just a man who’d already decided she wasn’t something to put down—but something to stand beside.
That was the moment.
Not the fire.
Not the bodies.
Not the screaming patrons fleeing into the alley.
It was the way he looked at her through the smoke—steady, unflinching, like he’d been waiting for her to walk into his life and never realized it until right then.
