Page 11

Chapter

Eleven

Erin

I ’m running in the dark with some thing snarling behind me, nipping at my heels.

I scream, knowing it won’t make a difference, and run until my muscles ache. My lungs hurt, I’m pouring sweat, and even though I’m sprinting as hard as I can, it feels like my movements are restrained. Limited.

No matter how hard I push myself, I never make it out of the trees. They stretch in front of me in an unbroken line of darkness with no end in sight. One of those expanding hallways.

Every lunge forward is a struggle.

Reality shifts abruptly and the world tilts on its axis.

I burst out of the woods abruptly, breaking into a brightly lit area that looks familiar. It’s Great Oaks, but not like I’ve ever seen it. The houses are closer, only a few meters from the woods, and there’s no one out despite the sun being high in the sky.

The streets are empty and desolate.

“Help!” I yell, but the sound is muffled, like I’m screaming through a dense wall.

I look back over my shoulder, and immediately wish I hadn’t. The Grim is on my heels, snapping its teeth at me and growling like a feral animal. His eyes glow like rubies underneath the glare of an unnatural sun.

Blood running cold, I turn and run toward the nearest house. I don’t recognize it, but something tells me Tyler lives there. I’m absolutely sure of it.

“Tyler!” His name leaves my lips and I run for the front porch, leaping over the stairs and rushing to bang on the front door. “Tyler, open up! It’s the Grim! He’s here!”

I pound my fist against the wood, rattling the glass, as the Grim closes in. When it’s clear Tyler isn’t going to open it, I spin around and plant my back firmly against the door. My lungs seize in terror.

The Grim is running full speed on all fours toward the house, getting closer by the second. He closes in on the porch, leaping over the few steps leading to it, and I squeeze my eyes closed with a whimper, waiting for him to slam into me.

Rather than the Grim, consciousness slams into me, and I gasp a huge breath of air as my eyes pop open. I’m once again staring up at the ceiling of the Grim’s house, hands and feet bound—this time with more rope—my clothes sticking to my skin with sweat.

My heart is racing, slamming relentlessly into my ribs. My fingers tingle as sensation returns.

Asleep or awake, it doesn’t look like I can escape this monster.

He’s invading my dreams now and even there I have no chance of outrunning him.

My pulse throbs in my temples and my mouth tastes like I’ve been licking an entire handful of pennies.

I blink to clear the blur from my vision. I scrub my knuckles into my eyes until black spots erupt and glance around the room.

The Grim stands to my left.

He’s hunched over an enormous stone basin that’s spilling smoke into the room. From this angle it’s impossible to see what he’s doing, exactly, but it looks like he’s boiling something, and the basin is just big enough for a small person to fit inside. For me to fit inside.

I swallow hard.

The special of the day is Erin soup .

Once he gets it just right, he’ll toss me in and boil the meat right off my bones.

If I have any shot at getting out of here alive, I have to do something quick . Otherwise, I’ll be the main ingredient in the monster’s dinner. I have no idea what I’ll do or where I’ll go when I escape this house, but I’ll figure that out later.

So says the girl who already tried that and failed . What makes me think my half-assed plan will work this time around?

Panic lights my blood and sends acid churning in my gut.

I’ve always been more of a jump first and ask questions later girl, but look at where it’s gotten me so far? I swallow hard around a rock in the back of my throat.

First things first, I have to get away from the Grim. Then, I’ll figure out a more solid plan, and cross my fingers it works this time.

“Hey,” I start, my throat dry and scratchy as I try to form words. “Please. Let me go.”

It sounds pitiful to beg for my life, and I never imagined I’d have to do something so degrading. But here I am, begging.

My pussy throbs randomly like the simple act of begging brings back memories of what happened in the woods. The sensation of being entirely filled to bursting with the Grim’s cock and cum.

Except it doesn’t really matter what kind of dance my sore pussy is doing. There won’t be a repeat of the sex, because I’ll be in his stomach, digesting.

Unless I do something now .

The Grim’s back stiffens at my words but he doesn’t turn around.

“I’m sure I wouldn’t taste that good anyway,” I ramble, wiggling in an attempt to turn myself more in his direction. His back is still turned to me and he hasn’t done anything to show he heard me. Is he ignoring me? “Please… uhh… Mr. Grim. Don’t kill me.”

“Syros,” he growls without offering a backward glance.

I stare at him, eyebrows furrowing together.

Am I supposed to know what that means? Is that English or some language native to his realm?

I rack my brain for a full minute, trying to decide if I misheard him, or if my brain cells aren’t functioning at their highest capacity.

“I-I’m sorry? What?”

“My name is Syros,” he says, his gravelly voice sounding permanently angry.

Syros . It feels strange to finally know his name after being captured by him twice and fucked once. Even though he’s just as beastly, and I’m still just as terrified for my life, knowing he has a name makes him slightly less scary.

If he planned to just kill me, surely he wouldn’t bother sharing his name. Right?

“I’m Erin,” I say, even though he didn’t ask.

If I can seem more personable, try to appeal to his better nature—if he has one—maybe that’ll be my ticket to getting out of here. That, or he’ll just get very acquainted with his meal before consuming it. I don’t have any other options right now, but maybe it’ll buy me a little time.

Syros says nothing but continues stirring whatever concoction is in the stone basin.

“Now that we know each other… Look, I know it probably seems appealing to eat me, but please don’t do this. Send me back. Send me home,” I plead to his back, wishing he would turn around and acknowledge me, acknowledge my plight. I hate the way he ignores me. “I’ll be out of your way, and you’ll be free to do whatever you want with someone else.”

I want him to see me, hear me, understand that I’m a person and not just a meal.

Especially after our romp back there in the woods.

There has to be some kind of connection between us after he was inside of me.

Now I’m grasping at straws .

Anything to survive, I reason.

People do whatever it takes when they know their back is against a wall.

Heat swells in my middle as the image comes rushing back, of Syros pinning me to the ground, slamming his thick cock inside me. I remember the feel of his knot swollen in me, locking us together for several minutes, and my stomach cartwheels.

I still feel him, the mark his intrusion left on my insides.

“I told you, it’s impossible,” he grumbles, just loud enough for me to hear. “The portal is closed. I can’t send you back. It will not reopen until the next solstice.”

I sigh, feeling like a deflating balloon. He’s right—the portal disappeared at some point while I was getting railed in the forest.

Fuck.

There’s no way I’m going to survive a whole six months here. He won’t let me live that long, I’m entirely certain. If it’s not today, then my death will come tomorrow or the following day. How long can I go living in a constant adrenaline-fueled state of stress?

My thoughts are spiraling down into a black pit, anxiety creeping into my chest and wrapping around my heart, squeezing hard.

Not long, it seems. I’m already breaking apart and it’s only been a few hours. I think.

I realize for a second time that I don’t know how long I’ve been unconscious. I could have been out for hours or days. Time is a construct I can’t wrap my brain around anymore. Between the darkness and fainting twice, there’s no way for me to possibly know, or to get back the time I’ve lost.

My head swims as the thoughts become overwhelming. Stale air clogs my lungs and I gulp, attempting and failing to get myself under control.

“At least untie me,” I suggest, holding my hands up even though he’s not looking. “The ropes are too tight. They’re cutting off my circulation.”

He stills briefly. “No. You’ll run.”

“No, I won’t,” I say. “I promise. I won’t run again. Where would I even go?”

For a moment, I think he finally hears me, but then he goes right back to stirring whatever is in the giant pot.

Irritation prickles my skin.

“Syros, will you at least stop fucking ignoring me?” I grit, losing my patience.

If he wants to be an insufferable asshole, I’ve got news for him. He succeeded and now I’ll retaliate. If he was just going to bore me with the cold shoulder, he could have already killed me and I could have avoided the mental torture.

“If you’re just going to pretend like I’m not here, just go ahead and kill me to get it over with,” I repeat out loud for his benefit.

Rude asshole.

I expect him to keep ignoring me the way he has been, despite the demand, but he whirls around to face me, his glowing red eyes lasering in on me and making me catch my breath. When he isn’t doing something so mundane, like stirring water and pretending I don’t exist, he’s downright terrifying.

Although there is no change of expression on his skull face, it’s almost like I see the play of emotions over his features. Which shouldn't be possible.

He is an image ripped straight from my nightmares and he’s frustrated with me.

“If I slit your throat, would you talk less?” he growls, flashing his claws at me.

“Maybe.” I shrug, an air of confidence appearing from nowhere. It has to be the adrenaline kicking up in my veins, throwing me right back into fight or flight mode. “Why don’t you try it out? Just make sure you do a decent job. I’d like a quick death if you aren’t going to let me go.”

I hold my wrists up for him, waiting as the tense seconds tick by and neither one of us moves.

Taunting the Grim is a gamble, but the more I think about it, the less likely it seems that he plans on killing me soon. If he truly wanted me dead, he would have done so already. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. He certainly wouldn’t have wasted time fucking me. Right?

There’s a reason I’m still alive.

I’m not sure what he’s waiting for. My gut tells me it has something to do with what happened in the woods. Maybe he wants one more round before he takes me out. Maybe he wants to take complete advantage of me this time, to fuck me so hard I snap in half.

That’d be one way to go .

I work hard to keep the feral grin off my face.

“If you want me to kill you, I will,” he says, moving closer until he’s towering over me. “I bet you bleed beautifully.”