Page 17

Chapter

Seventeen

Erin

I sink beneath the warm water, letting its soothing embrace wash away the weariness of my journey. For a moment, I imagine the strong floral scent of the gollilock plant filling the air and perfuming the water like bubbles.

What would it be like to smell it the way he does?

The longer I hold my breath, the easier it is to relax and allow my thoughts to drift aimlessly.

For now, I’m safe.

For now, he’s caring for me, and once I’m done bathing, I’ll ask him about food. Is it safe to drink the water in his world? Not that I want to have a big gulp of bath water, but I haven’t had anything to drink since…

Oh wow, how long? A day?

I force bubbles of air out of my nose.

Amidst the tranquility, there’s something else churning within me, something I can’t quite comprehend. It confuses and baffles me, like a puzzle with missing pieces. It’s the growing fondness I feel for Syros, this enigmatic monster who stands at the intersection of darkness and whimsical curiosity.

How can I find myself drawn to someone so different? Someone from a world I never thought I’d encounter?

No matter how much research I’ve done into the supernatural and portals, I guess a part of me has never really considered them something tangible. They’ve always been abstract theories until now.

I wanted them to exist, but seeing them for myself threw me for a loop.

My too-human mind has to grapple with the stark reality of all of my previously imaginative theories.

As I ponder these conflicting emotions, I hold myself submerged under the water, closing my eyes, hoping to find some clarity in its depths. When I resurface, however, I’m startled to see Syros’ wavering outline towering over the basin, his red eyes fixed upon me.

I bolt out of the water, gasping for air, my heart pounding.

“Erin! Are you drowning?” His deep voice resonates with concern. “What are you doing?”

I let out a nervous laugh, attempting to compose myself. My hair is plastered against my face and I push it back before scrubbing my knuckles against my eyes. “No, no, I’m fine. Just... lost in my thoughts for a moment.”

When I open them again, his outline is clear.

His skull-head is tipped to the side. If he had flesh, I imagine his brows would be furrowed together. “You seemed... startled. I thought something was wrong.”

His unexpected worry for my well-being strikes a chord within me.

It’s a glimpse of a side of him I hadn’t anticipated, a vulnerability that pulls at my heart. But why does it matter? Why should I care about the feelings of a monster who stole me from my world, wanted to eat me but fucked me instead, and now seems to want to keep me like some kind of pet?

This entire situation is absurd. Absolutely absurd.

Like a fever dream I can’t shake.

I meet his concerned gaze and ask, “Why are you so worried about me?” It’s time for stark honesty. “You wanted to kill me not too long ago, and now you’re trying to mask my scent so I don’t get eaten? Those two things don’t add up.”

He also seems like he has serious worries about me drowning in the bath he’s made for me.

So much for the privacy.

My cheeks blush when I realize he’s been watching me.

He hesitates as he searches for his answer.

“I mean, am I missing something here?” I push.

His back straightens and that frigid coldness washes over his bony face. This is the face of the hunter. Not the creature fascinated with human creation who has never danced before.

“Do you want to be eaten, Erin?”

I know he means literally and not in the way my dirty mind takes it, but sweet Jesus, my thighs clench together when he says it.

“Of course not,” I reply automatically. “I just want to live long enough to go home.”

Syros hesitates only a moment before a deep, gravelly chuckle escapes from between his canines.

“Well, we both know that’s impossible until the next solstice. If you make it that long. So until then, the only way to keep other monsters from this realm away from you is to make you undetectable. And bathing with these plants will help until you erase the thought of ever leaving from your mind.”

I try not to think about his final statement.

“Is this a one and done thing or will these baths be a regular occurrence?” I swipe my hand over the surface of the water, allowing the heat to seep in to my bones

Despite the tangled knots of my thoughts, this moment…is nice, I’m forced to admit.

“You will have to repeatedly bathe in the plant for its effects to last,” he replies.

I bob my head. “I figured.”

He moves across the room and picks up a small cloth from the crudely-built table, along with the bowl of the remaining mashed gollilock, before kneeling beside the tub and bringing us eye to eye.

I twist my naked body away from him, covering my breasts with my arms, mostly out of habit, but Syros seems to have no reaction to seeing me naked.

It isn’t like it’s the first time, anyway. He’s seen and tasted multiple parts of me.

“Allow me.”

I watch him dip the cloth into the mixture, lathering it up well, before reaching for me.

When I flinch back, his paw hovers there, and he sighs in annoyance. Waiting for me to get with the program and obey.

“To answer your earlier question,” he begins, his voice softer, “I... I find you fascinating. Your world, your resilience, your humanity. All of it. You’re so different from the other humans I’ve encountered.”

Eaten, he means.

But I let that thought go and listen to him continue without interruption.

“And I suppose, in my own strange way, I feel a connection with you. There is something stretching between us, Erin. I’m not sure what it is or what it means,” he admits. “Since it appears to me you will accept nothing less than the brutal truth.”

His words catch me off guard, and I struggle to process them. Syros, the collector of trinkets, the monstrous Grim with an appetite for human flesh, is harboring a connection with me?

“You’re resourceful. Brave. Stubborn. Quick-thinking. Those are all traits I can relate to in a way and admire,” he goes on.

“You make me sound too good to be true, when really, people think I’m a crackpot where I come from.”

“A crackpot?” he repeats, testing the word.

“Yeah, a crazy person. Believing in the things that are hard to find, like ghosts or aliens or Grims. There are people who look at me and think I’d be better off locked away somewhere,” I admit. “They don’t understand me or where I’m coming from.”

The corner of his jaw quirks up, and holy fuck, is that a smile? Is Syros literally smiling at me? It’s hard to tell with the skull face, but I think I’m getting the hang of interpreting his different gestures and expressions.

“Well, you persisted, and you found a Grim,” he says.

“Technically, you found me.”

“I guess you’re right.” He chuckles at my correction and closes the distance to begin washing my arm again.

And this time, I drop it from across my chest and let him. Despite his brutish nature and massive bulky size, his touch is gentle as he swipes the cloth over me.

I offer him a genuine smile, my skepticism giving way to a newfound warmth. “Well, I’m flattered by your compliments. You’ll probably change your mind when you get to know me. You’ll find I’m intolerable.”

“I highly doubt it.”

His concern warms parts of me better than the water. The area between my legs tingles the longer he brushes the cloth over my arms. He’s close. And he smells nice. There is a musky undertone coupled with the fresh scent of evergreen and ash.

After thoroughly washing my arms, Syros moves to my chest, draping the cloth across my collarbone.

His red eyes deepen in color and he slows, paying attention to the dip between my breasts.

I suck in a breath as he tentatively shifts the cloth down more.

“Every part of you. Remember?” he reminds me. “You’ll let me do this.”

Warmth sparks in my stomach and sinks lower. My body is coming alive, and I’m not about to stop him.

I’d let him do just about anything right now.

A smooth growl rumbles in his chest, almost akin to a purr, and his voice drops even lower. “You will let me take care of you and taste and fuck you as I want. Whether or not you like it, little human, you are mine. ”