Chapter Nine
Watcher
She dances like sin made flesh. Like she knows the world’s watching, and wants it to bleed for her.
And fuck me, I would.
Watching her move, touching herself like no one else is worthy, has my cock straining against my zipper. I don’t blink. Don’t breathe. I devour her with my eyes from the shadows, and she doesn’t even realize she's feeding a monster.
That slow bend. The way her hands roam her body like worship. The flash of teeth beneath a knowing smirk.
It’s not just sexy. It’s possession.
She was made for a Devil.
And I’ll make sure she ends up with the wrong one.
Wyck thinks she’s his. Karter toys with her like she’s his favorite sin.
But me?
I’ll add her to my collection. Carve my initials into her after I rip them apart.
She’ll scream eventually, my name or my mercy, I don’t care which.
Her gaze lifts, sharp like prey sensing the hunter. She feels me.
But that inked-up bastard, Karter, leans in and whispers the lie she wants to hear.
It’s just Wyck.
Fucking perfect.
They never look past the Devil they already fear.
And I’m just close enough to Wyck to let my shadow blend with his, still buried deep in the blind spot they always forget to check.
Soon, Little Fox.
Soon, you’ll know who’s really been hunting you.
And when that moment comes… you’ll wish it had been Wyck.
“Soon, my pet,” I murmur, voice low enough to vanish into the bass thumping around us. “Soon.”
I slip back into the crowd like smoke. A ghost in their perfect little nightmare.
But next time?
Next time I won't disappear.
I’ll take.