Page 63 of Primal Hunger

“Do they eat humans too? Like your kind?” Erin presses.

“Yes, but only rarely, as the Grim are not likely to give up their prey to the Ech if at all possible.”

Erin returns from the fire with the water, warmed by the flames and steaming slightly. She sets it down on the table near me and draws a cloth from the depths.

“You’re going to sit here and let me take care of you. We need to clean this out so I can see what we’re working with. Then, I might have to take more of your cloths to bind the wounds, if the bleeding hasn’t stopped by then.”

I watch her move, the deft way she handles the cloth. The first swipe of the hot water over my back has me Grimacing, suppressing the need to yell out at the pain, but the vulnerability and determination on her face has me biting my tongue.

“Why are you fussing over me?” The need to know consumes me.

“Is that what you call this?” Erin refuses to meet my gaze. “You call it fussing?”

“Yes.”

It is simple and oddly comforting. No one has ever done such a thing for me. Although, it’s not like I’ve had another personorGrim in this hovel before.

Cabin, I mentally correct.

She drags the cloth over my shoulders before dipping it back in the hot water, crimson staining the depths.

“You’re hurt,” she bites out. “After what you’ve done for me, it’s only right for me to do the same for you. Besides, I’m the only one around to do anything.”

“You want me in peak condition to fuck you again,” I growl. “I understand. You are hungry for my cock to fill you, and I can’t pleasure you when I’m like this.”

“Wow, you’re arrogant.” But her cheeks blush a pretty pink, and I glance back to see her tuck a lock of silver hair behind her ear with her free hand.

The silence that falls between us is anything but strained. There is an ease to it, a comfort, as though we have reached an accord. Soon, the smoothing motion of her hands lulls me into a mental space where I am able to close my eyes and allow her to continue her ministrations.

This is… nice. Strange, and out of place, but nice.

Even my hunger takes a back seat to the soothing sensation and her presence.

“Perhaps I should allow myself to be hurt more often,” I mutter. “If it results in this kind of care.”

There is a small pinch on top of my hand, where it rests over my knee. I glance down to see Erin with my flesh between her fingers, squeezing it in admonition.

“Stop it,” she says. There is no ire in her tone, though, and I swear she is suppressing a grin. “Some of these are very deep. It’s a wonder you’re still breathing normally.”

I may not have been if she hadn’t decided to help me.If she’d run, or if she’d let me die—I stop myself before I give into those thoughts.

“Thank you.” The words are foreign. “For helping me.”

It’s strange to say them to another living being and even stranger to mean them.

The Grim are solitary. We take care of ourselves in whatever manner we see fit and without a thought to anything outside of our own survival.

But here is Erin, and I find myself oddly protective over her. It almost seems as though the feeling is mutual.

“There is something in the jar near the fireplace you could use—” I start.

There is no warning before the curtain over the door bursts open on an invisible wind. A long shadow framed in moonlight falls across the cabin floor, though I can’t see anything blocking the doorway. Decidedly not unconscious, the Ech yowls into the room, the sound high enough to lift my fur on end.

It all happens so fast.

I surge to my feet a wave of dizziness, ready to protect my little human, just as she’s knocked off her feet. She screeches, landing hard enough to cut off the terrified sound, before the Ech drags her toward the cabin door.

I have to move. Fear and fury mingle together inside of me, both emotions strong enough to tie my tongue and clench my heart into pieces.

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