Page 67 of Primal Hunger
“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.”
