Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 138217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
The only reason the Watcher had tracked down their prey was pure unpredictable luck. They’d seen their prey in the bear’s vehicle while driving in the opposite direction and, even as their heart raced, had made a slow turn that wouldn’t attract attention.
It had been almost too slow. They’d just caught the tail end of the StoneWater vehicle entering the underground garage of an apartment building the Watcher knew was owned by the bears.
At the time, the Watcher had driven on.
Now the Watcher was on foot. They could never be fully confident that the bears didn’t have eyes on the street. So the Watcher became just another person walking along the rain-washed street below the third-floor window where Theodora Marshall currently slept.
It had to be that apartment; the Watcher had passed by this building multiple times over the preceding week, absently noted the single set of dark windows. They had considered checking to see if it was available as a rental before shrugging off the idea; the central location was a drawcard, but the Watcher couldn’t risk eliciting bear attention. Now, one of those windows glowed gently, perhaps from a light left on in a hallway.
A Marshall in the city after all this time.
Slipping off their backpack with the ruse of searching within it for something, the Watcher took one more glance at the window.
A Marshall.
In Moscow.
Could it be? No, surely not. Marshall Hyde had been as jealous as a spoiled child when it came to his special project. He hadn’t told anyone.
No, this had to be about some other business matter.
Still . . .
“Theodora,” the Watcher murmured under their breath as they walked on, their skin hot and their pulse rapid. “2.7. Pax Marshall’s twin.” The Watcher knew that because the Watcher knew everything about the Marshall family.
Had to know.
The entire operation hung on a steady supply of Marshall money.
They’d have to think carefully about their next step. And they’d have to keep on watching.
Chapter 27
Skin privileges aren’t just about touch. They’re about trust.
—“Skin Privileges: An Exploration” by Xandra Jabi (thesis concept in progress)
THEO WOKE FROM the best sleep of her life. Her entire body felt heavy, but the kind of heavy that indicated a dreamless rest. And she was so wonderfully warm. The fur blanket was—
Fur blanket?
Eyes snapping fully open, she jerked around to come face-to-face with a thick wall of dark brown fur that was rising and falling in a steady rhythm. She probably should’ve been scared, but instead, all she felt was a wondrous fascination. Moving with utmost care so as not to jostle the bed, she sat up.
And took in the bear fast asleep next to her.
StoneWater was made up mostly of Kamchatka brown bears. She’d read that in her research notes on the clan. She’d also read that Kamchatka bears were some of the biggest in the world. She hadn’t actually comprehended what that meant until she took in the astonishing living mountain next to her.
The mass differential made no logical sense.
She didn’t care. She just wanted to touch him.
. . . I’ll turn into a bear and let you pet me.
Her heart thumped as she remembered that he’d given her permission for what Wild Woman termed “skin privileges.” She probably should let him sleep, but she felt like a child with a forbidden toy. She wanted to touch as she hadn’t wanted anything in an eternity.
A little scared he’d react to her touch as a threat, she nonetheless moved her hand oh-so-carefully to his side. Her heart all but pounded out of her at the sheer wonder of touching this magnificent creature that was Yakov’s other form, the other half of him.
Another kind of twinning, she thought to herself as she sank her fingers deeper into the luxuriant silk of his fur. She’d thought she’d never again feel warm or safe or even a little happy after the numbness engendered by her conscious acceptance of her grandfather’s cruelty—but bubbles of excited joy popped in her bloodstream. A thing she hadn’t felt for so long that it took her a while to pinpoint the emotion.
Yakov slept on as she petted him in long strokes, indulging herself in the feel of him. He was pure power and heat and wild. Right here in bed next to her. She looked at the fancy sheets, then at the claws visible on the paw on which he’d propped his head. Yet there were no rips in the sheets that she could see—and the bed was holding.
Built for bears, she realized. Of course everything in this apartment is built for bears.
Emboldened by her success thus far, she dared move her hand to his head, stroke the softer fur there. He stirred . . . and then he was yawning, that big and dangerous mouth opening to reveal equally dangerous teeth.