Soul Eater By Lily Mayne · Certified

When he finally saw it, his breath hitched. The creature—Wyn—wasn’t the mindless beast the legends described. He was massive, a silhouette of shadows and sharp edges, but there was a devastating stillness to him. He was perched on a rusted girder, watching the sunset with a gaze that felt ancient.

In a heartbeat, the monster was there. Wyn didn't roar; he leaned in, his monstrous form looming over Danny, nostrils flaring as he caught the scent of human fear. But as he leaned closer, the predatory hunger in his eyes flickered, replaced by an intense, confusing curiosity. Soul Eater by Lily Mayne

"I should eat you," Wyn whispered, though he made no move to strike. When he finally saw it, his breath hitched

"I'd probably give you indigestion," Danny retorted, his voice trembling despite the bravado. He was perched on a rusted girder, watching

Wyn tilted his head, a sharp claw tracing the line of Danny's jaw without breaking the skin. He could taste the soul beneath—vibrant, stubborn, and inexplicably warm. For a monster who had spent centuries consuming darkness, this tiny, defiant spark was more intoxicating than any kill.

Danny tripped. A single loose stone skittered down the ravine, sounding like a gunshot in the dead silence.