Page 54 of Primal Hunger
I scoot closer to Syros and reach my hand out to brush against his fur. He’s soft as velvet over a hard layer of muscle and bone, with patches of rough skin peeking through that tickle my fingertips.
He doesn’t stir, the rumble of his gentle snore continuing to roll in his throat.He sounds like a giant, demonic cat.
Another giggle threatens to burst out of me but I clench my lips shut—I don’t want to wake him. Not when things almost feel peaceful for the first time since before the solstice. Even though I can’t find sleep, adrenaline isn’t crashing through my veins and my heart isn’t slamming in my throat.
I’m almost calm. Restful.
If I close my eyes, it’s easy to imagine many nights like this. Nestled at his side and safe.
A girl can get used to this kind of thing, having a warm body beside her, vowing to protect her, pleasuring her beyond any kind of normal bliss.
Especially if I ignore the undercurrent of tension running through me, reminding me of the danger of this world and the tenuousness of the situation itself. Being here with Syros isn’t so bad after all.
Once we got past the wholehe wants to eat mething.
He can eat me all he wants—with his thick, warm tongue buried in my pussy—but we’ve gotten to a point where I’m not worried about him trying to boil me anymore.
Thank fuck.
I continue to lay there with my eyes closed, slowly being lulled to sleep by Syros’ snoring, absentmindedly running myfingers through his fur. Eventually, I start to drift off, heaviness tugging at the edges of my mind as unconsciousness threatens to drag me under, when a giantcracksounds from outside the room.
I inhale sharply and my eyes pop open, fear racing down my spine. My muscles go tight, and I hold my breath, waiting for whatever it was to sound again, dangerously close to us.
My heartbeat thunders in my ears, my heart twisting in my chest.
What the hell was that?
A long minute passes, and I take a slow, shaky breath while remaining perfectly still.
Maybe it was my imagination; I’m exhausted, after all.
Maybe my mind is starting to play tricks on me.
Maybe—
Anothercracksplits the air, this time loud enough for Syros to wake.
He’s on his feet in an instant, alert and poised, crouched low with his upper body arched over me protectively. A low growl rumbles in his chest, tearing through my system and raising the fine hairs on the back of my neck.
“What is it?” I hiss out.
His head jerks around and his red eyes meet mine, the glow diminished in the gloom of night. Although there’s no change in his expression, his cold gaze lingers on me like he’s warning me to be quiet.
“It might be another Grim stalking through the land, hungry for prey that no longer exists,” he whispers, his head slowly swinging toward the door. “Or it might be…”
His voice trails off, and I open my mouth to say something, but that’s when I hear it: a slow, dragging rustle through the underbrush outside, interrupted by thudding footsteps.
My stomach turns, spirals of ice dancing up my spine.
Surely, whatever it is hasn’t come for me so soon. Not after the precautions Syros took. Not after I bathed in the gollilock water.
Syros said it could be something else…but what else besides a Grim is large enough to make that noise?
I exhale shakily, clenching my hands into fists to stop them from trembling. Even with this vicious, skull-headed monster huddled over me, ready to protect me from whatever awaits outside the door, fear lances through me.
It dawns on me just how fragile I am, how much I don’t belong in this world no matter how comfortable I am with Syros. Even if not by his hand, there is a very good chance I’ll end up dead if I stay here. I hate how small I suddenly feel.
His body twitches when another crack resounds outside, closer this time, like someone stepping down on a tig and snapping it in two.
