Was it wrong of me to be staring at a monster’s ass? I was pretty sure the answer to that, if I asked anyone in this camp, would be a resounding yes. Maybe a hell yes. Probably a what the fuck is wrong with you, dude?

Then the beastie turned their head to look up at Rig with big, pitch black eyes, and I got my first proper look at their face. Their dark, greenish-black hair was no longer falling over it in unwashed waves. I exhaled a sharp, quiet puff of breath, glad my mask muffled the sound. They were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

Out here, I helped myself. I saved myself. And that was the way I liked it.

“Don’t worry, human.” He shot me a wide, fanged grin. “I think you’re pretty.”

“You were the first human to treat me with something other than contempt or disgust.” My breath caught in my chest, and I went still as Wyn spoke. “I decided to give you a chance at survival.”