Hi there! I’m working hard on book three, falling in love with the rycke and his awkward human Ghost. I’m also loving being able to write more about how the raiders live in the Wastes, and the relationships they form in their camps – good and bad.
I’m still missing our other monsters and humans, though. Obviously. My plan is, once The Rycke is finished, to write some bonus content revisiting our OG monster-human couple. I miss Wyn. A lot. There, I said it.
If you missed my last post, you might not have seen that I’m now on Facebook – join me over there!
Sorry for my rambling. Now, finally, keep reading for a second sneak peek of The Rycke. If you missed the first teaser, you can find it here.
Excerpt #2 – The Rycke (Monstrous: Book Three)
Despite being unable to see the beastie’s face, I could tell from their body language that they were uneasy and dirty and tired. Exhausted. What had they been doing here, in these ruins for the last several months? Why hadn’t they escaped with the other beasties? Why hadn’t they at least attempted to get out of these chains before? They hadn’t been that hard to cut through with Rig’s cobbled-together rotary blade. Surely the monster would have been able to find a way.
Why were they so afraid? They looked tall, and while lean, their body radiated power even in this weakened state. I had no doubt that this monster had strength far greater than either of us—beasties tended to be faster, stronger, smarter than humans. They also lived much, much longer, and with age came experience. Skill.
Maybe this one was very young.
My ears were ringing when Rig finally turned off the blade, cutting through the last of the chains binding the monster’s arms tightly together. Despite the creature’s seemingly timid nature, I couldn’t help but tense up, expecting the worst, when the chain fell away and landed on the concrete floor with a sharp clank.
The monster was shaking, shoulders hunched with tension. At first they didn’t even move their arms from the position they’d been trapped in by the chains for a long, long time. I winced at the sight of all the dried, crusted dark green blood around their wrists. The deep black bruising marring their white skin all the way up their inner forearms. The pinched blood vessels in the sensitive inner creases of their elbows.
When the monster finally lowered their arms away from one another, towards their sides, a weak pained sound left their throat. Their arms trembled, moving stiffly. The veins looked dark and prominent under the white skin, but I didn’t know if it was a reaction to the binding pressure of the chains or if it was normal for their species.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Rig ducked his head, and I realised he could see the monster’s face.
I ignored the stab of… something I felt at the fact that the creature was doing everything in their power to not look at me, literally flinching at the sound of my voice, but were seemingly fine with Rig.
Why had they warmed to Rig and not me? What had I done?