Griping her hand, Aster held Becca’s gaze. His eyes still held the warm glow of copper. They took her breath away; they were so far from human, yet before she could voice the one question going through her mind, he spoke, “There are bullets lodged in my body. Get them out and seal the wound.”
“H-how? How do I seal the wound?”
“Fire,” was his only instruction before he passed out.
“Fuck!” Becca scrambled to her feet. Fire… Looking around the room, her eyes landed on the unlit fireplace. Bending, she hooked her arms under Aster’s shoulders and heaved. “Jesus, Aster, you weigh a ton,” she muttered as she pulled him again.
Out of breath and in pain, Becca pushed her own feelings aside and turned to the fire. Doing as she’d watched Aster do nights before, she assembled a pile of kindling over some scrunched-up paper. Lighting it, the paper sparked to life, catching onto the kindling and eventually setting fire to the larger pieces of wood as she added them.
Picking up the fire iron, Becca glanced at Aster. “You said fire,”—she shoved the iron into the center of the fireplace—“you’re gonna get fire.”
Climbing to her feet, Becca rushed into the kitchen and retrieved the smallest but sharpest knife Aster owned and then hunted for the tweezers she’d bought and not yet used. Grabbing a bottle of vodka out of the cabinet on a whim, she knelt beside Aster moments later, her heart in her throat.
“Not sure if this is necessary, but I’ve seen it on TV loads of times,” she murmured as she tipped the bottle of vodka over the knife and tweezers. “Right…I can do this.”
Hands trembling, she brought the knife to the first bullet wound she could see on his shoulder. There were three other matching wounds. The holes had already begun to close, so as the blade touched skin, Becca had to push it through flesh.
Her heart thundered in her ears, the sound a deafening drum. Wincing, she angled the knife to open the wound and delved in with the tweezers. “Oh, God, this is horrible,” she whispered, tears in her eyes.
Aster groaned as Becca pulled the first bullet from his muscle. On the next, a grunted, feral sound left his throat causing Becca to jump. By the fourth bullet, the skin had completely healed over, and it was embedded deeper into his flesh. Used to the feel of the blade sinking into flesh, Becca didn’t hesitate, but she could have never been prepared for the moment his skin changed color. Crying out, the knife fell from her grip as she scurried backward, her breath hurried gasps.
He didn’t move and seconds later, his body returned to normal. Taking a deep breath, Becca blew it out through her open mouth before going back to her job.
He had another two bullets through the side of his stomach, and one lodged in his thigh. Blood coated his skin, her fingers and stained the rug he lay on. The blazing fire made beads of sweat appear on the surface of his skin, and peppered across Becca’s brow.
Knowing what she had to do next, Becca stared at the fire iron lodged into the center of the embers. “Right, time for the fun part,” she muttered sarcastically.
Taking hold of the handle, her body trembled, but she held the glowing iron rod steady. It hit his skin, sizzling and coating the air with the smell of burning flesh as Aster’s body contorted. His body shifted before her eyes, horns protruding from his skull, coming to with a yell. Becca cowered back from the angry glow of his eyes.
“Y-you s-said f-fire,” she stuttered.
His eyes focused on the poker, then back on her face. Grunting, Aster collapsed onto his side, his head lolling sideways.
“Aster?” Becca took a tentative step toward him, “Aster?” she whispered again.
No answer. Nudging him with her foot, when he didn’t respond, she stood over the man who was Aster, but no longer looked human. Once again, she pressed the hot poker onto his next wound.
By the time Becca finished, she was numb to the sound of his grunted groans and the horns almost seemed normal. Hovering over him, she wasn’t sure what to do next. She’d followed his instructions and now came the horror of what had happened.
Making it to the sofa as her knees gave out, Becca huddled against a cushion, her eyes never leaving Aster. Finally, she voiced the question she needed answering, “What are you?”
She’d accepted there were monsters in the world from a very young age, but even as a child, the monsters always had a human face. Yet, even as she gazed at his horns and the almost leather-looking skin covering the top half of his body, she couldn’t make the word ‘monster’ fit him.
He was something, something far from human, but Becca had met, had grown up with monsters, and they didn’t look at you like Aster had with her. They didn’t gasp in stunned confusion when you didn’t run from them. Monsters didn’t save girls from other monsters. They joined in with the fun. So then…what are you?
Aster woke with the vague memory of Becca cupping a beast’s face and standing her ground. Rolling over with a groan, his body in all kinds of pain, he saw a small pile of bullets coated in dried blood. Pain forgotten, he gasped as he moved into a sitting position and found Becca huddled on the sofa, her chin on her bent knees, her eyes huge and bloodshot, staring unblinking.
“Bec?” The sound came out as a rasp, his throat like sandpaper. Coughing, he tried again, “Becca?”
At first, it appeared she wasn’t moving, but at a closer glance, he saw small tremors rocking her body. “Bec, honey, are you okay?”
A memory of her having the life choked from her drifted through his mind. His eyes went to her neck, seeing the mottled angry bruises covering her skin. “Bec?” he said softly, gritting his teeth and crawling closer to her.
The tremors increased, and still she stared unblinking.
“Becca, honey, he’s gone now. You’re safe.”
She blinked, her head snapping up straight. “What are you?” she whispered.
It took Aster a moment for her question to sink in, his mind too busy worrying about her being in shock. His every instinct called to make sure she wasn’t injured, but he held back, afraid any sudden moves would send her over the edge.
“I’m a shifter.”
“Shifter?” she repeated, frowning.
“A Minotaur to be exact.”
“Like the Greek myth?”
“Yeah.” He nodded.
“I don’t understand,” she murmured.
“The world’s not as black and white as you first thought.”
Her eyes hardened. “I have never thought the world was black and white.”
“No. No, I guess you haven’t.”
“So, are other myths and legends real?”
“Some, yes. I’ll tell you all about it later. First let me make sure you’re okay…please.”
Her knees snapped down, her arms crossing over her chest in defiance. “I’ll survive. There’s nothing I won’t recover from.”
She’s strong, the Minotaur mused with a smile. And ours.
“Will we?” Aster whispered, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.
“I didn’t run,” was her answer.
“It looks as if you could at any second.”
“Give me some credit! I’m a little…” Her eyes lingered to the top of his head. “You have horns.”
Aster ran his fingers through his hair, almost expecting to feel horns with the way Becca was looking. “Yeah.”
“Horns… You have…had horns. That’s a little shocking, and I’ve seen some shocking shit.”
Aster didn’t know what to say, so he sat unmoving, his eyes never leaving her face.
“And your eyes glow. They glow. I thought I was going mad when it happened before.”
“Would you like to see again?”
“No.” She shook her head firmly. “I’ve seen all I can take tonight.”
They stared in silence for a while, the only sound the slowly dying fire.
“Were you ever going to tell me?”
“Yes. Tonight…but I was afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
“That you’d run. That I’d lose you.”
“We’ve known each other for days, Aster, do I really mean that much?”
“Yes.”
How a single word could hold such meaning Becca wasn’t sure, but it unfroze her locked body and she found herself slipping to the floor. It was almost funny seeing fear in the eyes of a man who could take seven bullets and survive. Fear so deep, so old, it told Becca of the past scars Aster had been hiding from. Cupping his face, his eyes took on their copper glow, but she didn’t feel frightened this time. There was only warmth, only love in his eyes and it was all for her. Placing a single soft kiss to his lips, Becca pulled back and leaned her forehead against his chest. His arms came around her firm, but gentle, and it felt like coming home.
“I’m beginning to think I was meant to meet, Alex Scar.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because if I’d never met him, I’d never have known the face of a true monster, and I’d have run from the best thing to have ever happened in my life.”
“No more running,” Aster whispered.
“No more hiding.” Becca smiled.
Becca turned at the sound of his approach, a smile on her face. She wasn’t startled to see him here, even though he should have been working. Aster always knew when she needed him, and he could always find her.
“What are you doing here?” he asked her, taking her into his arms.
Nestling her head against his chest, Becca breathed in deeply and reminded herself she was safe. She was loved. Turning in his arms, she took in the scene around her, trying not to picture the last time she’d been here. The river wasn’t as full as it had been that day, and spring flowers now covered the ground, leaves had turned green, and the air had become warmer. The golden hues of autumn, and the slash of crimson blood, long since gone.
“Is he here?” she asked, knowing he’d understand who ‘he’ was.
“No. This place is too beautiful to be his final place.”
Becca let out the breath she wasn’t aware she’d been holding, and leaned deeper into Aster’s body.
“Where?”
“Far into the mountains,” he said. “Why are you here, Bec? Why today? Today is for celebrating, remember?”
“We’re celebrating later, when our friends come around.”
“Your friends. I wanted to celebrate together,” Aster grumbled.
Laughing at his forlorn expression, Becca slapped him lightly. “We’ll have plenty of time for that later, and Garret is coming, too, so you’ll have a friend.”
“I still don’t see why I have to socialize.”
“No hiding, remember? Unless you’d like to go back on your word? Alex’s bike is still in the shed.”
In a move she had no hope of escaping, Aster picked her up off her feet and slung her over his shoulder. Slapping her ass, he marched back through the trees.
“Aster! Put me down.”
“Nope. Since I now have the afternoon off work and you cut class, we shouldn’t waste another second on this place.”
“Aster, wait,” Becca said through her laughter. “You’ve left my sketchpad and things behind.”
He paused, placing her on her feet. Reaching up, Becca smoothed the frown lines creasing his brow. “Stop worrying, I’m fine.”
“But why today, Becca? It’s your birthday. You shouldn’t be thinking of the past.”
Sighing, Becca tried to explain her emotions. “It was just time. The past is as much a part of me as the future. I didn’t come here to remember the bad. I came to finish my sketch, to remember what had first drawn me to this spot to begin with.”
Eyes softening, Aster cupped her face, his loving smile making Becca’s chest ache.
“Go finish your drawing. I’ll head back to the cabin and make us some lunch to eat out here.”
“Really? Oh, that would be lovely. There’s some wine in the fridge I bought for tonight, but why don’t we start it now?”
“Trying to get me drunk, Becca?”
“And have my wicked way with you.” She giggled.
Dragging her flush with his body, his lips touched hers, hot and demanding, as his hands skimmed her body and cupped her ass. Moaning into his mouth, Becca clung to him, her every nerve sizzling to life.
Aster broke their kiss with a breathless growl. Becca gazed into the eyes of her Minotaur, the beast who’d saved her from a monster and reminded her to live.
The past would always be there, every demon, every scar, but it no longer defined her, and whatever the future brought, she knew Aster would be by her side, fighting the darkness and bringing in the light.
Thank you so much for taking the time to read my novella from Woodland Creek!
All reviews are appreciated.
If you would like to read more from the Woodland Creek series, please click on the link below:
Woodland Creek Website
About the Author
Photo © 2012 Lauren Joy Photography
Rachel M. Raithby started her writing career in 2013 and hasn’t looked back. She draws her inspiration from the many places she has lived and traveled, as well as from her love of the paranormal and thriller movies. She can often be found hiding out with a good book or writing more fast-paced and thrilling stories where love always conquers all. A Brit who left the UK in 2008, she resides in a quiet town in Queensland, Australia, with her family.
Other Titles
The Deadwood Hunter Series
Lexia
Whispers of Darkness
Holocaust
Betrayal
The New Dawn Novels
Winter Wolf
Wolf Dancer
The Beast Within Page 12
