Page 49 of Primal Hunger

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 youwantto be eaten, Erin?”

I know he means literally andnotin 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.

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