Page 18 of Primal Hunger
His voice is like a shockwave through my limbs, and I snap my lips together obediently, even though I’m still shaking and too afraid to look him directly in the eyes.
I look anywhere else to avoid those glowing, menacing hollows that flicker like there’s a fire burning inside him, eager to escape. From his thick, fur-covered neck that stretches up to meet an elongated skull to his moon-colored jaw with sharp, curling fangs. I trace the curls of his horns that wind out in opposite directions.
He’s taller than he appeared in the woods. There, he’d been a part of the shadows, as mighty as any of the tree trunks and just as terrifying.
Just like Tyler warned—I’ve been taken.
“You will do as I say, or I have no issue slicing you in half,” the Grim rumbles, running a singular claw from the waistband of my pants up to my sternum, dragging the shirt along with it.
My teeth chatter together, although my lips are still pressed firmly together, terrified of the thought of him fileting me with those six-inch claws. If I scream, he’ll follow through. I have no doubt.
I try to move away from his touch and squirm in any direction to distance myself, but it’s no use. The nest of furs is too thick and plush for me to get any leverage, and I just slip further into them.
“Do not scream,” he commands, his icy voice slicing through the air. “Or something far more terrifying than me will find you; I promise you that’s not a fate you want. You will swallow your tongue and be silent, girl.”
Oh, sure, like he wants to protect me? Yeah, right.
This is a nightmare. I’m trapped in a nightmare. I’d said I was willing to do anything to find proof of the Grim’s existence? I was an idiot.
He stands again, causing me to breathe the tiniest sigh of relief despite my racing pulse. His eyes linger on me again like he’s studying me, trying to figure something out.
“I’m going to make sure we weren’t followed,” he says, his gravelly voice low. “If you make any noise or try to run away, your skin will be the next pelt I add to this pile.”
He runs his hand along the edge of the nest before standing to tower over me again. Then, he turns and stalks across the room with my eyes trailing him as much as I don’t want them to.
For such a big fucker, his strides are nimble, like he’s moving through water and hardly affected by gravity. Maybe the gravity is less intense in this realm? I’ll really be able to tell if I can get out of these restraints and on my feet.
Or are his movements really just that refined?
The Grim swipes the heavy fabric covering the doorway aside with his massive hand and pauses, staring intently out into the darkness. I catch the briefest glimpse of a gloomy world outside, but beyond what looks like a tree branch or two, I can’t make out anything else. Nothing to give me an idea of what exists outside the walls of my prison.
Without a backwards glance, the Grim slips through the opening, and the fabric rustles as it settles back into place.
He’s gone.
I’m alone, and while that should bring me a tiny bit of comfort, it doesn’t.
The space is empty without his presence crowding me, and the last thing I want is to be here with only my terror for company.
I’ve got to get out.
My heart gallops into overdrive as my mind starts spiraling with escape plans. There’s only one door leading into the house, so if I’m going to make a run for it, I’ll just be following right behind the Grim.
What’s to stop him from catching me again and dragging me back here? I’d rather keep my skin where it is than risk him peeling it off and adding itto the pile.
Adrenaline shoots through my system, and I swallow over the huge lump in my throat.
If I’m going to make a run for it, now is the time. I don’t know how many precious seconds I have before he returns, or how mad he’ll be when he sees I’m gone, but I don’t plan to be here to find out.
I bring my hands to my face again, tugging at the rope with my teeth. It’s tight, and damn near impossible for me to move, but the knot finally slips the slightest bit, enough for me to maneuver and stretch my fingers to untie the rest.
I don’t take time to massage my aching wrists before sitting up and attacking the binding around my ankles, fingers trembling as I try to move quickly.
My gaze flashes toward the door, and I strain to hear over the thunder of my frantic breaths.
It would make sense to come up with a plan first before blindly running into an unknown world, but I only have a few seconds I’m willing to spare. The Grim could be gone for several hours, or he might be waiting for me just outside the door. Either way, I have to get out of here.
I have to try.
