Page 1 of Enticing Monsters

CHAPTER ONE

V

“Please.”

The sob echoes dully off the trees surrounding me. I dig my feet into the pine-needle-covered ground, the chill of the air unnoticed against my skin, even as my breath comes out in white bursts, quickly dissipating in the night air.

Only the barest light breaches the thick branches of these ancient trees, casting macabre shadows that enhance my excitement. The sound of a bone snapping—and the short, pig-like screech that follows it—makes me grin.

My knuckles are swollen and split from the blows I’ve delivered, and my mind trails to my kitten, wishing they were her marks on me. Wanting the sting and the ache, rather than the void of sensation that these leave in their wake.

I lash out, my foot connecting with flesh, the solid thunk vibrating up my leg.

“Please!” the little worm in front of me cries out again. “Help me, someone, please.”

The weak morning sunshine that trickles overhead bounces off his face as he attempts to crawl forward, away from the hidden thicket I found just for him.

Rude of him, not to appreciate the thought and planning that went into this moment.

Not shocking, however. Few truly appreciate the time and effort that I put into torture. It’s about the psychological as much as the physical, really. Anyone can make someone bleed. Not like it’s hard. Even other supes are breakable. And whiney.

But not many can make them piss their pants before the fun has even begun.

I dig a finger into my ear as the sobbing squeals this guy makes bang against my eardrums. Honestly, it isn’t like I skinned him. I haven’t even stabbed him, though if he keeps this noise up, I’ll seriously consider it. If he’s going to attempt to pierce my eardrums, I’ll certainly see about piercing an organ or two.

Or maybe just piercing his ear…

I did that once to one of the lords when he offended me as a child. The man still instinctively covers his ears whenever I walk into a room. I think even his mate is a bit amused that the man is more offended by the ears I pierced than the bones I broke.

Pride is interesting like that.

And so much more fun to break than a bone.

Bones can be treated by a healer.

But when you shatter someone’s pride? Leave it in tatters around them?

That is nearly as good as death.

I consider it for the worm currently inching his way across the forest floor, gasping and whining with every inch he manages. I cock my head to the side, watching his pathetic attempts to escape.

It isn’t like I worked him over that hard. A broken nose, maybe a couple fractured ribs, a concussion, a broken hand or two…

Child’s play, really. I showed great restraint. Honestly, I deserve a reward. A nice one.

Too bad my kitten won’t know about this to give me the reward I rightfully deserve.

It is because of her—and those obnoxious twin mates of hers and their moral compass—that the male in front of me is still breathing. Not that I am scared of them, of course. But if I kill him, it’ll piss them off. And them being pissed off will hurt my kitten. And if my kitten is hurt, she won’t play with me.

Huh.

Maybe this is what having a conscience is like.

I prefer living without one myself.

“Help!”

His cries grow louder, more fevered, and it takes me a moment to realize why. The griffin’s elevated hearing has picked up the sound of footsteps moving towards us at a rapid rate.

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