Minotaur: Blooded (The Bestial Tribe)

by Naomi Lucas

  Sex.

  Aldora pressed her thighs together.

  His hand moved up her belly and over her breast to capture her neck. A light squeeze and a tap to her chin brought his mouth to her cheek. It was wet and soft, malleable as it moved against her skin. His arms held her tight enough for her to know that even if she fought, it would be for nothing, and she had little fight left in her to begin with.

  What did he give me?

  He was a wall at her back and a shield of arms and legs, a being larger and stronger than she’d ever seen, with a voice that came out as a lullaby every time he spoke. His lips remained on her cheek and his hand on her neck. Aldora waited for the twisting and groping, the sudden shock of penetration as he shredded her last garment... but it never came.

  Her legs shook and her core tightened with each inhalation she rode. His warmth continued to seep into her skin, followed only by more of the mixture that rearranged her world.

  A muddled awareness overtook the numbing effects of it drying on her body. His hand shifted on her neck and dirty fingers swept across her lips.

  “Human female flesh is soft,” he said, rubbing them. “This is why you make the best breeders.”

  Aldora tensed but couldn’t move. “Breeders?” It was a term used for certain livestock on the farm, the ones that were used to procreate. Images of them in heat flashed in her mind. She was no innocent when it came to sex, but it had always been on her terms.

  “Human females who are not yet fully tainted by the mist. If taken care of and kept well, protected from the other beasts that roam this world, they will produce fresh blood and halfbreeds. They will solidify a new generation for any pack or tribe and cleanse them with new lifeforce.” His hand moved back down to her neck, leaving her lips raw and pouted.

  “So that’s the reason?” Her words slurred. “Why Savadon is forced to sacrifice hundreds of our kind each year...” Aldora shuddered but had never stopped bracing for pain, even after the numbness.

  A burst of cackling, thick laughter filled her ears and she was let go.

  She barely caught herself and worked her way to the other side of the fire. The trees turned upside-down. His laughter deepened with sinister glee, taking an edge that had her searching for her discarded clothes. Aldora dragged them to her side, and with several failed attempts, eventually redressed herself.

  She was no longer in pain but her skin was apple-red from the boiling liquid. She checked the bruise on her arm, finding it no more than a blemish of its former self.

  “What?” she asked when he continued to cackle between toothy smiles. Aldora yanked the dagger from her boot, her hand shaking with the effort.

  “It has nothing to do with your people’s sadistic need to sacrifice others of your kind.” He rose up on his haunches. “You appear and the rest of us in the mist take advantage. Not all beasts care about your flesh. Some just want your blood, some are just... ravenous.” His eyes narrowed and she tightened her hold on her weapon. The pressure between her legs strengthened as her gaze flickered over his powerful muscles.

  Aldora watched him cautiously, feeling her strength begin to return. “The mists don’t encroach into our lands if we make sacrifices. That’s how it’s been for generations, since—”

  “Forever?”

  “Yes.”

  He leaned closer to the fire and she shifted back. He picked up the pile of plants and stuffed them into a pouch then began to string them to the buckles around his waist. “The cursed mist has no mind of its own, it cares nothing for you humans. Why else call it a curse? There’s no fighting it, no bloodthirsty battle to savor.”

  “But it doesn’t come into our lands. It stops at the labyrinth wall and stays there,” she argued despite Burlox’s fall coming to mind. “Humanity’s kingdom remains untouched as long as humans are delivered to you. That’s how it has always been, how it still is...” How she’d been raised, being told this every day living in a bordertown. Her entire world was affected by the labyrinth, each nightmare and grim thought was because of it, every morning from the first blink to evening’s last. The mist was always in the back of her mind. “We battle the mist by respecting it.”

  So many decisions were borne from it. Everyone in Thetras, in all of Savadon, lived within the shadow of the labyrinth wall. We have celebrations...

  Depraved, hedonistic celebrations.

  Aldora rubbed her lips on the back of her hand, remembering his touch. “The mist recently overtook a town north of mine, of Thetras,” she added.

  “Your people think it’s because of the sacrifices?” he goaded. “There were rumors of a large influx of humans. That very reason affected your life.”

  “Why else would the town fall if it wasn’t because it failed? What do you mean, affected my life?”

  “Female, it’s all because of your blood. Everything is about human blood here.” He re-sheathed his axes. “Look around and see how the mist does not cling around you like it does the plants, the trees, me. It tries to and it’s gaining ground second by second until it can envelop your soft flesh to conquer, but do not fret, breeder, I won’t let it take away my pet.”

  “I’m not your—” His hand snapped out and grabbed her before the words came out, pulling her onto her feet. She pointed the dagger at the wall of his stomach, but before she could thrust it deep, one of his hands closed over hers while the other tangled in her hair. He jerked her head back and wrenched the weapon from her hand.

  “Human pet,” he snarled and a blast of steam hit her face. “Your kind is killing itself. The more you throw into the labyrinth, the less you have to repel the curse. One day, there will be no Savadon, no sunlight to stream through the veil, no world left for you and it’s no one’s fault but your own.” She flinched as her hair was pulled and pain shot across her scalp. “One day, you’ll all be ours and everything you’ve built will be gone. You’ll adapt or you’ll die.” He released her hand and she reached back to grab the hand holding her hair, tears springing in her eyes.

  “You’re lying,” she breathed, her lips parted. She strained on her toes in an attempt to relieve the pressure of his grip.

  “Has your kingdom ever gained back any land?”

  Aldora searched her mind already knowing the answer but she couldn’t allow herself to believe it. She’d never heard of Savadon expanding, only shrinking, losing what was left when quotas weren’t met. It didn’t explain the giant, nearly impenetrable wall that connected their worlds, nor the countless ones who miraculously returned from the mists.

  “No,” she answered. He released her and she stumbled to her knees. She picked up the dagger between them and looked at it, not wanting to see anything else. “We’ve only ever lost it.”

  “As it will always be.”

  “Why tell me this? We both know I’m at your mercy, that you’ll never let me go back, that I’ll never even get the chance.”

  “Because the sooner you work with me, rather than against me, the stronger you’ll become.”

  “The sooner you’ll use me,” she snapped. He’s taking me to his brothers.

  His cloven feet moved out of her line of sight and she trailed her finger across the dagger’s primitive design. Aldora blinked again rapidly to clear the wayward tears on her lashes and stood, pushing the blade back into her boot, while reaching out and picking up the bone bowl. Ashes flew up into the air as he stamped out the fire.

  “What,” she started, lifting her eyes back to his horns, “are you?” Her gaze drifted down his body to his thick, leather loincloth and the bushy fur that covered him from his hips to his ankles.

  “Vedikus.”

  Vedikus. His name breathed of ember and ruin, pain and depravity. A single word said in incantation to bring the dead back to life or to enthrall the living. Vedikus. Knowing it burned the back of her throat. Aldora forced herself not to swallow. She wanted nothing of him inside of her, she realized, but she didn’t have a choice.

  He stepped toward her wit
h a rope in his hand.

  Chapter Eight

  ***

  His fingers tightened on the leash, snapping the weaker threads in half. The female stiffened but did not flee when he tied it back around her waist. Her expression was unreadable except for the glare of cove in her irises.

  Vedikus readied for a fight that never came.

  She was growing used to his presence. All he had to do now was not spook her. The press of his bulge was uncomfortable against his loincloth, an unneeded distraction. It had quickened the moment he heard her voice for the first time, like a snake in preparation to strike, but had been denied with venom dripping from its mouth. He denied it now and glanced up at the sky.

  The sun is at its zenith.

  He pulled on the rope and she jerked forward, keeping her balance. “Your wounds are fading. How are you feeling?”

  She looked up from the rope to settle her gaze back on him, mystified. “I feel nothing.”

  “Can you walk, or do I need to carry you?” Vedikus tried to read her but found it difficult. She stared at him without expression for another long moment. He would carry her even if it put them at a disadvantage in a surprise attack. To keep her flesh upon his was something his body craved. The more he explored her, the more she gave into him.

  “I thought you admired strength.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “And the truth,” he warned.

  “I can walk.”

  He studied her for a second longer, before looking at the burned grass in the center of the copse and the pile of strung-out vines thrown about. The tension that barely held him together burned to be released and he clenched his hand around the rope.

  High noon was the safest time of day as the worst of the beasts were night-dwellers. The ghouls and wraiths fled to the shadows even if the light was faint, and those that could not find shelter dug themselves deep into the soil. The orc drums had faded hours past. Only the horsemen would be lingering out in the light. The centaurs moved little at night unless it was deemed necessary.

  If they were going to slip out from the barrier paths without notice, it would be now, before the first tendrils of evening.

  Vedikus knew the female was unwell, disturbed, possibly in denial, but there was nothing more he could do for her here...

  Besides keep her breathing.

  He led her from the clearing without another word and back into one of the thousand endless passageways of the labyrinth. He sensed her hovering close to his back, keeping the leash slack but not near enough to touch. Not like how she had leaned on him the night before.

  His tail flicked, searching for the feel of her, but caught under the flap of his leathers.

  It is for the best. He was ready to mount the female and each touch of her soft skin made it worse. Just knowing she was following his shadow and trapped at his side proved difficult enough. But he would not take her to the ground, not while the mist worked its curse, not while danger loomed. If he should fill her womb with his seed and it took root and he was unable to reverse her sickness, a thrall would bear his offspring, a mindless servant.

  Vedikus did not know what that would do to the young and he had no plans of ever finding out. It would mar what he and his brothers had worked so hard for: a tribe of their own.

  He settled his palm over his axe and stretched the muscles in his neck. We’ll be at Prayer before dark.

  There was a hag dwelling in Prayer, a lesser Lich that would have all he needed to stop the sickness. The cove and blimwort he’d poured down her throat were good enough to stall the malignancy but not strong enough to cure it.

  A hand touched his arm, bringing his thoughts to a halt.

  “What’s that?” she asked, looking off into the distance.

  Vedikus glanced in her direction and quieted his blood, his breaths. A soft whisper drifted through the air, at first obscured by the other noises but gained quickly in strength to a piercing buzz. He reached out to grasp the back of Aldora’s neck.

  “Another sacrifice.”

  She stiffened. “From Thetras? Are we close to any other human towns?”

  Vedikus hurried his steps and forced her to keep up with his lead. “No.”

  She stumbled after him and her grip on him returned. If the situation wasn’t building in urgency he would have taken a minute to relish his victory.

  “Another sacrifice,” she gasped, “and so soon...”

  Vedikus cursed the timing. The longer she’s connected to her people...

  The longer she would fight him.

  “Wait,” she pleaded. He dragged her behind him. “Wait!” It spread out like wildfire from the goblin scouts at the junction and continued on in every direction for miles to alert the swarms. By the time he had gone after Aldora the night before, most of the goblin scouts were already dead by his hands. Not anymore.

  Aldora resisted his pull and struggled behind him, fighting the leash and the hand he kept clamped on her scruff. Vedikus shifted, picked her up, and threw her over his shoulder just as the others met the call. What had started out as a quiet morning was now tense with a new wave of impending battle and bloodshed.

  “Let me go!” The female pulled at the armor straps across his back. “My town is sacrificing another!” Nails grazed his back and caught in his wounds. He gritted his teeth. “Please.”

  Oh, how sweetly the human can beg.

  He turned on his hoof and entered through the deep hanging vines, pulling Aldora down to thrust her back into the hedge wall. His palm covered her mouth. She arched away and he closed the distance, catching her eyes with his own in warning. Cackles and the clink of metal sounded just as she stilled. The points of his horns dug into the bark and stone above her head.

  They stayed like that long after the snickers faded into the distance.

  Vedikus slowly dropped his hand. She sucked in a wavering breath and clung to him. He pushed his hips forward and settled his engorged shaft against her stomach. Her nails pierced his flesh. The sounds of renewed fighting and hollers of battle rose up like wisps on every side.

  “Are we close?” she whispered.

  “Closer than we should be. The paths are long and winding, spreading for miles in every direction within the barrier lands. Once we make it out of this wretched place, the way opens up.”

  She peered over his arm to look through the thick foliage to the other wall across from them. He damned the humans of her town. Vedikus leaned over her to block her sight. A question lighted her eyes and he answered before she could voice it. “We’re not going back.”

  The female closed her eyes and shuddered. “My town is sacrificing another. Yesterday, I was there yesterday delivering apples to the breadmaker and...” She shifted on her feet but not to move away from him. “There was no talk of a sacrifice, no criminals that had arrived from the capital.”

  “We’re not going back.”

  “What if it’s my fault? It’s my fault.” Guilt filled her voice. Guilt. An emotion like hope, one that he gave no mind to. It wafted from his human in stifling waves and he drew back his hips. Regret was different, a feeling along the same vein. The distance they had lost would cost them now.

  His bulge throbbed between his thighs loud enough to match his heart. The death of me. He released a cloud of steam. “Why? You’re only at fault for yourself, not what the humans on the other side have done. Once they thrust you over that barrier, all ties are severed between you and them. You may not have wanted it, but they decided for you.”

  Vedikus lifted his head and glanced over his shoulder, past the vines and shadows, toward the path. Centaur hooves approach. Not many.

  When he and the other Bathyr had split from their birth tribe, their anger had destroyed all ties to their past. It was the only way to push on.

  Aldora moved and he looked back at her.

  “Would you cut someone down so viciously?” she asked.

  He paused. “Yes.”

  “Even me? Once my usefulness to you runs out
?”

  He would never abandon a human. He slid his hand under her chin. “The uses for humans are many. To abandon a war prize so sought after is unheard of.”

  “Even if I break my leg, my arms, my body?” she asked quietly.

  “I would break them back into place.”

  She flinched. Vedikus turned away, listening to the approaching horses, guessing their distance. Whether they were on this side of the hedge wall or on the other, he was not yet sure, but the fresh smell of tainted blood permeated the air.

  Telner and the two other stallions the horsebeast had been with came to mind. Vedikus could take on several centaurs at once, but more than three would be risky, and the path they were on was just wide enough to allow one to maneuver around him... if they kept him distracted.

  “What if I fight you every single step of the way and every moment with me becomes a trial? What if I betray you at the first opportunity, regardless of what would happen to me? Would you leave me for dead?”

  “Do you plan on betraying me?” he snarled.

  Her eyes widened, large and leafy brown, searching his gaze and trying to read something in him he wasn’t sure was there. His nostrils flared.

  “I don’t know,” she answered.

  His lips twitched. The female is not entirely afraid of me. “I will not leave you to the monsters. If you’re trying to compare me to those of your kind, go ahead, but I’ll never prove you right. If you’re looking for a reason to run, you’ll find many but you’ll find more to stay.”

  Vedikus slammed his hand back over her mouth and twisted away, swinging one of his axes in an arch. Plants fell in strings around his arm as his blade cleaved the head straight off the scout sprinting past. Blood gushed outward as the creature crumpled to the ground, its head rolling away.

  He pulled the body of the corpse into the shadows as Aldora shifted from the wall. He pulled on her leash in reminder. Several feet is all you get.

  “It’s dead,” she murmured, bewildered. “I didn’t even know it was there.”

  “A goblin scout.” He didn’t bother consoling her as he kneeled and picked up a crude whistle tied to the goblin’s hand. “The piece that warns of a human entering the labyrinth.” Vedikus lifted it to show her. When she took it from his grasp, he stood. “Blow through this hole,” he pointed at the whistle’s end, “in three short bursts if we ever get separated. I’ll know it’s you.”