Page 7 of The Watcher's Bride

For one insane moment, I consider running outside after him. “What did he look like?”

“Tall, tatted, muscles you could break glass on, smoldering,” Nadya says with a sigh. “Why, you want to go find your sexy knight in shining armor and give him a big thank you?” she says, waggling her eyebrows and miming giving a blowjob.

“No!” I reply, giving her a gentle shove. “I was just curious. Come on, I still gotta pee,” I say, dismissing the crazy idea of following him once and for all.

Even if I did find him, it’s not like anything would happen. I’m a virgin who can’t stand to be touched by men. His touching me to stop me from landing on my ass might have felt nice, but I guarantee if he made a move, I’d be turned off faster than you can sayick. Guys in bars like this are just looking for a casual hook up, and that’s something I can’t offer.

Besides, sometimes the fantasy of a handsome stranger is better than the reality. I’m sure if I went after him, we’d both be left disappointed.

Chapter 6

Leo

It was supposed to be a simple job. Find the girl, confirm who she is and her suitability, and report back. I could have been finished over a week ago. The moment I said her name, I could tell from her expression she was who Quinn claimed.

So why am I still here?

And why can’t I seem to stay away?

Nora Adams has become my new favorite drug. I should hate her, she’s part of the family I despise, yet I’m inexplicably drawn to her. I spend hours watching her, but it never seems to be enough. She’s invaded my thoughts, and I find myself wanting to know everything there is to know about her.

Each night, I study her like a scientist, trying to determine what makes her tick. The more I watch her, the hungrier I become. I need to know more. I spent the first few nights outside in the cold, watching her from a distance. I needed to know her movements and the people she sees daily. The first time I decided to go inside the library, I told myself it was because I was freezing my nuts off. It had nothing to do with the overwhelming desire I felt to be near her. When I’m not near her, all I can think about is her and what she might be doing. I have the irrational conviction that when I’m not there, something will happen. She needs protection.

I just can’t determine who she needs protection from the most. Me, my uncle, or everyone else.

Nora is small and delicate, and she hides her slim frame beneath baggy clothing as if trying to make herself invisible. She has a slight limp that she hides well, but I can tell it causes her pain. She sees her disability as a weakness, something to be ashamed of, but it invokes something deep and primal within me, a need to protect her. She might appear to be a shy wallflower, but she surprised me the night she confronted me in the library, displaying a fierceness few possess.

When she demanded I show myself to her she was unafraid. The fragile girl hiding from the world disappeared, replaced by a queen who demanded tribute, her amber eyes ablaze. I’d been denying that I was doing anything other than my job until then, trying to convince myself that I was spending hours watching her out of obligation and nothing more. But as my cock hardened at her fierce defiance, I knew the truth, I want Nora for myself.

When she asked what I wanted, I was honest. Perhaps for the first time even to myself. “You. Soon you’ll want me too, Norelle Quinn. You are mine,” I’d replied.

I’m totally screwed.

Everything I’ve spent my life working toward could disappear in an instant. I shouldn’t claim her. She’s promised to my uncle, my Pakhan, their union destined to end a decades-long war, even if I don’t want peace. I should walk away.

But I won’t. I can’t. It’s already too late.

Watching her has become more than just a desire—no, aneed—to be near her. She needs protection. Her bravery and beauty mean I’m not the only monster that hides in the shadows waiting to claim her, and she’s foolish enough to leave herself vulnerable, walking home alone in the dark, putting herself on display at the library for any weirdo to see. I have to protect her.

Even when she’s at home she’s not safe. Her apartment is on the ground floor with no alarm system. There’s a window with a broken latch that overlooks a dark alleyway, and only a single lock on the front door. It took me all of five minutes to climb into her apartment undetected that first time. Just thinking about what some psycho could do to her if they broke in is enough for me to convince myself that I’m doing the right thing watching over her while she sleeps.

It has nothing to do with how beautiful or how serene she looks, I try to tell myself. However, I can’t deny the immense feeling of peace I feel each night as I watch the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

Tonight, she went out for drinks with a friend. With her gaudy bright hair, excessive makeup, and a dress that put everything on display, Nora’s friend attracted a lot of attention, but I only had eyes for Nora. For the first time, I was able to get close to her, to touch her, and breathe in the intoxicating scent of her. I could tell from the hitch of her breath and the way she softened under my hands that she felt it too, the connection between us. But I couldn’t let her see the real me, not yet.

I’m grateful she had the common sense to get a cab home rather than walk in the inebriated state she was in. Though I judged her friend for not making sure she got home safely, at least she made sure she got in the cab before she allowed the jockshe’d been tongue-wrestling with to pull her into their own car. Plus, Nora has me to watch over her.

I hop on the motorcycle I’ve taken from the family collection of vehicles here and follow, easily weaving through traffic to keep Nora’s cab in my sight. Though I know where she’s going anyway, I’ve spent the last two weeks keeping vigil. The cab immediately drives away, leaving Nora to stumble to the entrance of her building. I resist the urge to go over when I notice her fumbling in her purse for her keys as she leans against the door jamb of the apartment building. Doesn’t she know that any stranger could come along and attack her right now? I watch like a coiled spring, prepared to attack should anyone even think of approaching her.

When she’s safely inside, I head into the alleyway to wait. I doubt she’ll take long to go to sleep, then I can go inside. I pull out the clone of Nora’s phone. There’s a handy tracker and audio recording, so I always know exactly where she is and what she’s doing.

I watch as Nora types a message to her friend, Nadya. Listen to her drunkenly talking to her cat, then the sound of running water as she brushes her teeth and the groans of mattress springs as she throws herself on the bed, muttering something intelligibly. Moments later, there’s the familiar sound of Nora’s deep breathing, indicating to me she’s fallen fast asleep. She sleeps deeply, and tonight the alcohol will probably make it deeper still.

I quietly let myself into the apartment, stopping to stroke Josef behind the ear. The cat purrs and winds himself around my legs. I like cats. They’re simple, uncomplicated, and instinctive, but I can’t help feeling like Nora would be better offwith a guard dog. A loyal companion that would protect her from intruders. Though the cat is better suited for my midnight visits, so I can’t complain too much.

I stop dead in my tracks as I reach the entrance of her bedroom. Splayed out on the bed like an offering, Nora has fallen asleep on top of the bedsheets, totally naked apart from her panties, her pale skin illuminated by the streetlamp outside. My cock immediately twitches, hardening at the glorious sight. I’ve never seen her undress. I might be obsessed with watching her, but I’m not some voyeur, so I’ve drawn the line at watching while she showers or dresses. That might have to change now. I don’t think I’ll be able to resist now that I’ve seen what she’s hiding under those baggy clothes.

Her breasts are perfectly rounded, the dark nipples hardened under the cool night air. Her waist tapers in, the skin smooth and unblemished over her flat stomach, her hips jutting out. She’s almost too thin. There’s a fragility to her and I frown slightly, recalling how little she seems to eat. I resolve then to stock her cupboards. Josef isn’t the only one whose meals she’s forgetting to buy.

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