Page 47

I scour my memories, searching through every season, every hunt that I can recall. “No. Never.”

“Well, shit.” He runs a hand through the wild curls on his head with a choked laugh. “That's not good.”

“You know how to fix?”

“Just, uh… Think of something else.”

“Think?”

“Yeah, like, whatever you were thinking about when… that happened, don't think about it anymore.”

But I had not been thinking of anything, only pleased that my human had liked what I brought him. “I was not.”

Covering his eyes, he peeks at me between his fingers. “You weren't what?”

“Thinking.”

“Okay, then what were you feeling?”

Feeling.

I glance down at the strange ache that still refuses to leave before searching for the right words. “You ate.”

“... Okay?”

“You enjoyed it.”

“I mean, your meat tasted good.” He pauses briefly. “Jesus, that came out wrong.”

Warmth stirs again between my legs from the sound of those words alone. “I hunted. You ate. I…” My hand tightens around myself. “Protect.”

His expression shifts so quickly that I cannot follow it. “Oh…” he whispers.

Silence stretches between us. The human chews thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek, his eyes drifting from my face to the member still in my grip. Whatever answer he was expecting, it was clearly not the one I'd given him.

Finally, he lets out a slow breath. “I don't think this is happening because of me. I mean, it can't be.”

My ears perk up. “No?”

He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. “I... don't really know how to explain it.”

“Try.”

“Sometimes our bodies react because we... feel something strong. Not because we choose it. It just happens.”

I frown, not liking that explanation at all. “This happens to you?”

His cheeks flush a darker shade of crimson. “Sometimes. Or maybe I'm completely wrong. I don't know how monsters—” He cuts himself off sharply. “I don't know how Orions work.”

All I can do is stare at him, then down at my fist still wrapped around the heavy, throbbing limb. This is a human reaction, then? What purpose would this serve other than making it difficult to urinate and hunt properly?

Nothing about what is happening is logical. It makes no sense. And from the very moment this man appeared, I have begun making even less sense to myself.

Even as I clean up the remnants of our food and hang strips of meat above the fire to dry, my human’s cautious gaze on my every move seems to make the heaviness between my legs worse.

But at least I can no longer smell terror on him or hear the frantic beat of his heart.

When I glance at him over my shoulder, he quickly averts his gaze and busies himself with the blanket, but he does not scramble farther away or search for some form of weapon. He simply… remains.