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All the air leaves my lungs in one giant gust. Out of all the explanations I'd expected, that wasn't one of them. “You…” My voice cracks slightly. “That's your reasoning? Just because I asked nicely?”

“Yes.”

The simplicity of that response is somehow infuriating. “What kind of fucking logic is that?”

A deep furrow appears between its brows, and the monster actually appears to consider the question before firing back one of its own. “Why do you cry for the dead?”

I open my mouth, then close it again, floundering for something to say as I search the genuine curiosity that shines in its eyes. Shouldn't the answer to that question be obvious?

“He was my uncle,” I say slowly. “Family. Blood of my blood. Um…” What's another word for this? “Kin?”

Finally, it gives me a look of understanding. “Kin.”

“Yeah. Kin.”

The monster's attention drifts toward Gale for a long moment. When it finally tears its gaze away, the expression on its face has grown cold and distant. “I have no kin. There is only me. And bones.”

Quicker than I can react, the creature hauls my weakened body into its arms. A yelp leaves my lungs, but try as I might, its grip is too strong for me to fight.

Spinning toward the exit, it speaks one last time, warm breath brushing over the shell of my ear as pure terror lances through my veins.

“There is only bones. And now you.”

Chapter

Fifteen

The Monster

Why does my human always fight me?

He smells of blood, fear, and pain. The scent clings to my fur as I carry him back to my den.

Normally, the serenity of these passages is peaceful, but today there is only noise as he wriggles against my hold. A low growl rumbles my chest, and he freezes in place… for about three heartbeats, then begins to struggle once more.

I tighten my grip to keep him from falling, which only earns me several snarled words that I have heard humans use throughout history when they refer to me: Monster, creature, beast. They only agonize me even more.

Does his leg not continue to leak blood despite my efforts? Do his ribs remain broken? Yet, somehow, this man seems convinced that fleeing into darkness is a better option than accepting my help.

Humans make very little sense.

“Let me go!” he screams, the pitch of his voice sending my ears flat against my head. “Put me the fuck down!”

With a low grunt, I simply continue to carry him back into my den and over to the hot spring in the corner. His wounds need washing, and I long to smell his natural scent again, the one currently being overpowered by urine and infection.

As I lower him onto the furs beside the water, he immediately begins dragging himself away again, and a heavy sigh escapes my throat. The sound only seems to offend him.

"Stop doing that!" he snaps.

Unsure of what he means, I ignore his look of outrage and use one of my claws to tear at the cloth covering his lower half. It's not until I've nearly gotten them off his limbs that he begins to shout and flail wildly.

“No, stop! What the fuck are you doing?”

Sniffing at the bloody, tattered clothing in disgust, I toss it away and curiously rake my eyes over his naked body. I've never seen humans without their coverings before, save for the few instances where I happened upon a few of them mating in the woods. They are thin, hairless creatures. Barely enough meat on their bones to sate my appetite, which is why I do not eat many. Only in cases of extreme emergency.

Normally, the sight of their sagging bodies turns my stomach, but as I let my eyes assess my human for new injuries, I find the look of his skin quite pleasing. Even if it's covered in blood and dirt. My mouth waters in a way I do not understand, the urge to taste him but not eat him giving me pause.

“Why the hell are you just… staring at me?” he rasps, delicate throat flexing with a hard swallow. “Is this like when a snake sizes up its prey?”