Page 23

Chapter

Twenty-Three

Erin

I slowly swim up through unconsciousness yet again, although I don’t want to actually wake up this time. Not when I know what’s waiting for me.

Fear, uncertainty, life or death a knife edge away from each other.

But my body is bound, unable to move, and oddly warm. My fingers twitch, and the soft surface beneath my fingers…that’s fur.

I’m inside the cabin again.

I come to wrapped in cloth—and he said he had no bandages or gauze—opening my eyes to see the fireplace back to a dull roar and soft atmospheric music wafting from the radio. It takes a long moment for my mind to put the pieces together.

I was here, with Syros, tending to his wounds when the creature attacked again. This time, the fight was nothing but a blur, and I was in the middle of it, struggling to free myself, struggling to survive.

Then Syros—

He must have saved me because I’m here and I’m alive.

Carefully, I lift my hand to my face, staring at the bandages covering me, made from the cloths he used to wash me in the bath.

Syros stares at the radio with a distant expression on his skull face. Lost in thought. How do I know that ?

He hovers over it, his arms loose at his side.

I must make a sound because, once he sees me awake, he hurries over.

“Erin. Are you all right?”

Yes. No . I’m not exactly sure.

He turned on the radio for me, made sure I was comfortable, nestled in the bed of furs.

Syros kneels at my side, his tongue flicking out to lick over his sharp canines, his eyes a dull red as he scans me.

“You will answer me.” He draws the pads of his fingers over my face to push back my hair, giving him a better view of my expressions, and I swallow hard.

“You’re going to fawn over me, now?” I ask.

“I’m making sure you’re okay. You came to help me. This is me returning the favor, as you seem so keen on reminding me.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to let you die protecting me.”

He bares his teeth in his version of a grin. “Are you trying to tell me we are even now?” he asks.

Without waiting for me to answer, he gently pries at the edge of the cloth around my ankle, unwinding it to check the scratches underneath. The memory of the Ech’s tail around my skin returns with startling clarity, the way it burned where it touched.

Rather than the massive burn I expect to see, there’s only a thin red line marking the area.

I gawk at the healing that’s already taken place. “What’s going on?” I want to know. “How have my wounds healed this fast?”

I glance up sharply at his chest and see the exact same thing. The deep gouges carved into him from the Ech’s claws have healed to the point where only missing fur and pink skin mark where the wounds were.

“How is this possible?”

“I thought about what you said, a healing salve. Truthfully, I didn’t know if it would work. I mixed some herbs with the gollilock plant and cooked them into a paste. It appears to have been a success.”

I stare up at him in awe. “You did all that… for me?”

He’s silent for a long moment before answering, “I didn’t want you to be in pain.”

Warmth spreading through my chest, I sit up straight, surprised to find I’m not as dizzy as I expected to be. I work my wrists in circles. No aches there, either.

“It sped up the healing, as long as the wound wasn’t too bad. I used it on you and on myself,” he says. “You were right.”

I stare up at him, my attention focused on his chest. Those wounds certainly looked bad when I was cleaning them out. Yet they might as well have been scratches for all the evidence left behind.

The longer I’m awake, the better I feel.

It’s the strangest sensation and, with Syros watching me, I drag myself to my feet.

The fur covering my lap falls away as I twist my arms and legs like there are kinks to work out, only there aren’t—I’m stronger, faster.

“Some miracle ointment,” I mutter.

A miracle in more ways than one. I feel brand new. The adrenaline in my veins buzzes and fills me with electricity.

“Oh wow.” I don’t mean to say the words out loud, but they somehow slip out of me, my excitement evident. “This stuff is like a drug.”

I’ve never been one to try any of those things, but there are always moments in a person's life where it feels better to drink the anxiety away than deal with worry. I definitely fell into a little bit of a hole after my dad died and the clerks at the liquor store one block over began to greet me by name. A bottle of wine every couple of days made the pain take a backseat.

That’s no way to go through life, though. After about a month of losing myself to the numbness, I got my act together, and got back to work, using the money from my inheritance to fuel my investigations.

Whatever plant Syros used, this is way better than any kind of artificial high.

“I’m sure it is having a different effect on you as a human,” he says, “but I’m pleased to see it is still speeding up your healing.”

Syros watches me, crouched over the pile of furs.

I spread my arms out to the side and spin in a circle, sucking in breath of air that reaches the bottom of my lungs.

I’m rejuvenated. There’s no other word for it.

This is the best I’ve felt in too long to remember, and I don’t want it to change anytime soon. There’s a certain wall of numbness between me and the fear, the underlying sensation that seems like it dogs my very movement since I got out of the car on the solstice.

When I finally slow, I lock eyes with Syros, finding him watching me.

It’s odd how I’ve gotten used to the changes in expressions although his face is a skull. There can’t be any real change but, for some reason, I’m adept at knowing what he’s feeling or thinking.

“It is different to see you this way,” he admits in a low, rough tone.

I cock my head to the side and stare right back at him. “What way?”

I’ll blame it on the effects of whatever he gave me, but even the fear is out of my reach. He stepped in to save me. The same way I charged into the fight to save him. Maybe it puts us on even footing where I can start trusting him when he says he will protect me.

I better be able to trust him .

I’ve fucked him twice.

“Unbridled,” he answers. “Full of joy. There is sorry little of it in this world.”

“What happened?” Although my body is lit from the side, I settle in front of him, cross-legged on the floor.

I need to take it easy. Just because I feel better doesn’t mean I need to dance and jump and overtax my already exhausted body. It’s asking for trouble when I’ve already found enough of it. Had it dropped right in my lap.

“To my world?” Syros clarifies. He sucks in a breath and holds it in his body, hunched forward. “Long ago, it was a different place. The Grim fought over territories and food, but when the Echs arrived, our resources dwindled. They’ve destroyed everything, choking the life out of our world. We tried to fight back, but fighting an invisible enemy is a losing battle.”

I listen, perfectly still, enrapt in his words.

“When food became scarce, we searched farther, traveled to unknown regions. That was when we discovered the portals that led to your world. There, we found food to survive, but it was not enough. It is never enough. There are too many creatures fighting to survive.”

“But it seems like the forest here is endless.” I cock my head, my brows furrowing together. “Besides the Ech… I haven’t seen anything else alive.”

There aren’t even birds here.

“Yes, that is what happens when we fight for resources. The strong survive, but there is still not enough food to build back our numbers.”

He grunts, the red of his glowing eyes banked for a moment, like he’s blinked.

“It sounds like a terribly lonely existence.” I glance around at the trinkets on his shelves, so many of them.

There has to be something here I can use to create a bridge between our worlds, but it gets me thinking—his collection is extensive. If the portal only opens twice a year, how many trips has Syros taken?

At this point, he’s probably been at it for hundreds of years.

Which is crazy.

I shake my head, the thought staying lodged inside, and once its roots have grown, I know how difficult it will be to move past it.

“It can be lonely,” he admits. “Grim are solitary creatures. My kind gives birth to only one offspring at a time, and our females can go hundreds of years between births.”

I chew on the corner of my mouth. “Haven’t you ever heard of strength in numbers? You’d be able to gather more and share it between you. You’d be able to fight the Echs—”

“That is not our nature. It is not the way we are…what’s the human term…hardwired?” Syros huffs out a laugh. “I heard someone use it once.”

A grin breaks out across my face. “You used it correctly, too.”

It’s impossible not to smile at him. Not when he is genuinely sharing information without hesitation. My fingers twitch, my fervent wish for a pad and pen or even my cell to make a voice recording doubling with every passing second.

This is information other living humans have never heard before.

The life-changing kind.

If I ever make it out of here, no one will ever believe me when I publish this story. They’ll think I’ve lost my marbles, that I made it all up.

They’ll think I’m insane.

“I like telling you about me and my life, my history,” Syros continues. Hesitantly, like he’s afraid of being truthful. Or maybe it’s just as hard for him as it is for anyone else to share his emotions. “I like it when you ask me questions.”

“None of which would have happened if you’d eaten me,” I joke.

He flashes his teeth in his version of a smile, and a deep chuckle shakes his chest. “You make a good point.”

Silence falls between us, and I shift on the floor. I open my mouth to speak again, but he beats me to it.

“I want to know about you, too,” he says.

My eyes widen. “About… me ?”

What could he possibly want to know about me?

“Yes,” he says slowly, pausing to consider his next words. “You are not like other humans. What were you doing in the woods the night I found you?” His voice prickles over my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. I recall standing in front of the portal, the blinding light rippling like an electric current. The moment I realized my life had changed forever. “Very few of your kind dare approach the portal, and even through your fear, I could sense your curiosity. What were you doing?”

Would he believe me if I told him that I was hunting him on the solstice? That I’d spent so much time trying to find him, and then stupidly stepped into the woods. Is it worth trying to explain a blog or the Internet to Syros? I nearly laugh at the thought.

It takes a long moment for me to realize he’s waiting on my response.

“I was… looking for you. I wanted to find a Grim.” The words fall out of my mouth, and my gaze slowly treks to his glowing red eyes. He stares in silence, unmoving, as though waiting for an explanation. I huff out a deep breath. “In my world, I’m what they call a paranormal investigator. I try to find explanations for the unexplainable. I hunt monsters, ghosts, or anything mysterious.”

He tilts his head to the side, and I can only imagine his confusion. “What did you plan to do after you found me? You had no weapons, so I assume you weren’t there to kill me.”

Images of my name in news articles flash through my mind, and I chuckle. It all seems a little silly now that I’ve faced death so many times in the last few days.

“I wanted to share you with the world,” I say, forcing a smile. “I wanted to prove that you exist, that all the stories I’ve heard were true.”

He nods his skull up and down, absorbing the information. I mentally trace the sharp cut of his jawbone, my eyes trailing over his enormous canines.

“What do they say about me?” he asks, his voice lower. “That I’m a blood-thirsty beast? That I kill mercilessly?”

I swallow over the lump forming in my throat. I’ve heard countless stories about the Grim, and while they’ve all checked out so far, they also lacked some crucial information that I’ve come to learn. Yes, the Grim kills people every Solstice. Yes, he’s a blood-thirsty beast.

But… he’s so much more .

He’s intelligent, and his collection of human belongings is a testament to his quest for knowledge. He’s powerful—there’s no doubt about that. He’s fierce, protective, caring. Even though he kidnapped me and planned to eat me, he also saved me. If he didn’t have to go to Earth to find food, if he wasn’t desperate due to his lack of resources, I doubt he’d even hunt humans. He does what he has to in order to survive…

“Your silence is enough of an answer,” he says with a dry chuckle that sounds more like a growl.

“People fear what they don’t know, what they don’t understand,” I respond softly. “But if they knew what I know, if they could see what I see…” I swallow again, my mouth suddenly impossibly dry. “They would feel differently.”

Heat prickles across my cheeks at the admission, and another beat of silence passes between us. I take the moment to admire the details of his haunting face again. My gaze dips to his muscular frame, to the swell of his biceps, his razor-sharp claws, before climbing back up again. They land on his mouth again, and my stomach flutters.

How would it feel to kiss him? The thought catches me off guard, and the butterflies in my gut turn into knots as my thoughts run wild. How would it feel to press my mouth to his and feel the swipe of his tongue against mine? He doesn’t have lips, so it’s impossible for him to kiss me back, but I can’t help but wonder how it would feel.

Would he like it? Would I?

I’m still working up the nerve to move closer when his eyes snap to mine, and I freeze. Even without facial expressions, I can almost see the wheels turning behind his eyes as he watches me, his glowing sockets lingering on me.

“I do not want to lose you.” His words hit me like a brick wall, and my breaths stutter.

He stands, straight and tall, towering over me, and extends a hand down to me on the floor. More heat spreads over my face, creeping down my neck, and I allow him to pull me to my feet. His rough hands dip over my shoulder, brushing down my arms, before he tugs me close. I slam into his muscular torso, craning my neck to stare up and meet his gaze.

“There is something about you, Erin,” he goes on, a soft rumble rolling in his chest. “You are stubborn and breakable and you infuriate me, but the more time we spend together, the less I care about my hunger and the more I want to keep you alive.”

The pressure in my chest intensifies. My lungs constrict and my heart beats faster in an effort to reach him.

I’ve never felt this way before, not about a human man in connection to romance.

Is that what we have? Is this a romance?

How is it even possible?

I only know I feel the same way he does; I wouldn’t have jumped into danger to help him otherwise.

“Syros—” My voice catches and I swallow hard. “I have no idea how to describe it, either, but… it’s strong. Whatever it is.”

He growls, and I feel the scratchiness of the sound inside my body. It travels in a wave down to my core, and my pussy pulses, letting me know exactly what she wants.

This time, I lift on the tips of my toes and reach up to wrap my hands behind his thick, muscular neck. I tug gently, guiding his skull down to meet my face, and press my lips against the tip of his snout. The bone is cool against the heat of my lips, and little bolts of electricity zip through me at the contact.

He might not be able to kiss me back, but this is the only way I know to show him the feelings I’m unable to speak.

I want him.

I know that much.

I want this monster more than I’ve wanted anyone else in my life, and it only takes one look, one touch, to light me on fire. My body craves him.

I’m not sure it’s wrong anymore, but I do know I can’t keep my hands off of him.

Maybe there’s something special in his cum that makes me addicted to him. For all I know, that’s exactly what this is. But the more he touches me, the more I want to figure out what exactly has started between us and what my own feelings are.

I have a million questions for him, and each one is harder to hold onto as his hand slides down my back, over the curve of my ass.

Who taught him to speak? Is it a quality shared by all Grim? What other creatures are in this world and how have the Grim survived this long when they have no familial unit or community to support them?

Does it really matter, though?

He tugs me against his chest and hikes me up to bring us face to face, my arms wrapping automatically around the base of his neck, tangling with his thick fur.

None of the questions churning in my mind matter, not really, because I’ll be going home soon.

After that, I’ll never see him again.