Minotaur: Blooded (The Bestial Tribe)

by Naomi Lucas

  “Would you like to know me?”

  “No.”

  Several of the centaurs laughed, but the bandaged one’s face hardened.

  Aldora chewed on her lip realizing her mistake. If she angered him what would he do to her then? “What are you going to do to me?” She slowly moved her eyes down from his face and to his front hooves, taking stock of his weapons. Two spears. A shortsword. A bow and quiver. And my dagger. Aldora itched to wrap her fingers around it again.

  The hardness of his features eased. “That depends on you.” The centaur shook his head, rattling her ears with more clinks. But then he moved away. He picked up a discarded spear and began to sharpen it near one of the fires feverishly. Their eyes met through the flames and she quickly looked away.

  What can I do?

  The centaurs convened in small groups around her, weaving in and out of the three bonfires they had erected. Several of them lit their spears on fire and used them as torches. Whatever they were made of repelled the flame and kept them from burning up. Aldora felt around the spear at her back wondering if it were fireproof too. It was smooth and cold to the touch, and when she wrapped her fingers around the shaft and pulled, it still wouldn’t move.

  It bode ill for whether or not she could even wield it. She had nothing else on or near her that she could find that would be able to help her. She dropped her fingers from the spear and returned her attention to the encampment.

  What would Vedikus do if he was in her place? A self-deprecating laugh left her lips, bringing all eyes back to her, reminding her of how exposed she was. Her gaze lowered to her torn, damp clothes. They clung to her and left little to the imagination, and even with her undergarments still intact, her nipples poked through from the abrasion.

  She could still feel the ache between her thighs where Vedikus had worked his cock into her, forcing her body to stretch and take it. She flushed and squeezed her legs together, feeling even more vulnerable under so many intense stares.

  She had noticed the centaur’s pricks remained erect, much how Vedikus’ had at the beginning. Her eyes were drawn to that area despite the fear they made her feel. Was it because she was surrounded and that they all displayed hunger in their eyes? Or was it the sudden threat they posed that made her stiff and wary? These men were half human, half horse, just as Vedikus was spliced with his own beast, and like all beasts, they were well endowed.

  An idea came to mind, and a very real shiver came with it.

  Aldora moved to sit on her knees and met the eyes of the bandaged one again. “I’d like to be closer to the fire,” she whispered, unable to make her voice rise. He seemed to hear her though. The centaur stabbed his spear into the ground and came back to her side. In one quick move, he yanked out the stake that bound her to the ground, reaching his other hand out to grasp her arm and help her to her feet.

  She bit down on her tongue and focused on the pain as she accepted the touch and was led away from the middle, immediately feeling better now that she wasn’t so fully encircled. Aldora slunk to the ground by one of the bonfires, surprised to find the dirt and grass dry.

  “What’s your name, human?”

  “Aldora.”

  “What does it stand for?”

  She frowned and looked down at her hands. “It stands for nothing.”

  He whinnied and moved into her line of sight. “Then it stands for you, a survivor of the barrier paths, a rescued human, and a killer of bulls.”

  Her gaze snapped up, narrowing. “I haven’t killed anything.”

  “You may not have held the blade but we have decided to gift you with the minotaur’s death, our gift to you for being alive when we found you.”

  Her frown deepened and she glanced briefly at the other centaurs. I don’t understand. She had lived next to this world her entire life. Why had there been so little knowledge of what happened within? There were survivors that made it out and her mind lingered on them, disturbed why Savadon and its authority took their accounts with distrust.

  Savadon should have been preparing to fight those that frightened them, that had taken away their land, but instead, her people had tried to appease the mist.

  “Thank you,” she muttered.

  “For what?”

  “The gift.” She breathed in deeply before asking. “Will you give me another?”

  The centaur smiled slowly and she looked away. “We are bargainers after all. My name is Alepos, what do you seek from me and my men?”

  To deliver me to Vedikus and to leave us alone! She licked her lips. Was that what she really wanted? Aldora studied the flames and watched them lick the air. “W-will you unbind my hands?”

  The centaur went silent. And the longer it lasted the harder it was for her to remain upright. She began to feel what courage she had left leave her when he finally spoke.

  “And what would you offer us in return?”

  “Whatever it is that you want from me,” she lied but noticed several of the centaurs pause. It doesn’t matter. Aldora shuffled to her feet and turned, stretching out her arms, waiting for one of them to loosen the binds. She did not look up to see which centaur cut her free, but instead brought her wrists to her chest and rubbed them.

  And rubbed them.

  And continued to do so as she sank back down to her knees, facing the fire. Alepos brought her food but it went uneaten at her side.

  The sun was lost in the smoke when the first swell of her blood appeared beneath her nails. Her skin was raw and red as she dug into it faster, spurred on by the blood. She let her head drop to hide what she was doing with her hair. The centaurs continued to watch her but she faced away from them and toward the fire. Several came by to speak to her, but she didn’t hear any of it as she raced the encroaching darkness.

  Her nail snagged where she had broken the skin and, wincing from the pain, she worked it open until her hand came away wet with blood. It flowed red-hot over her skin and pooled into her lap where her pants soaked it up. Aldora gritted her teeth and quickened her speed, scratching even harder now, uncaring of who saw.

  A nearby shriek assailed the encampment just as the centaurs yelled her way. It heightened to an ear-piercing level that was soon followed by a dozen other similar shrieks in the distance.

  Aldora widened her eyes and looked up disbelieving that her plan had worked.

  “What have you done!?” She was wrenched to her feet. Furious eyes bore down on her as her bleeding arm was lifted for all to see. A responding roar went out as spears were lifted off the ground.

  Alepos dropped her arm with a hiss, but it was already too late.

  Aldora smiled. The smell of her blood was in the evening air.

  ***

  Vedikus lurked within the reeds and smelled his way toward the fire. The air was thick with it. Thick with revenge. Thick with his need.

  The armor and cloth he’d looted from the corpses chafed his skin where he’d used it to bind his wounds, hoping he’d be alive long enough to stitch them back together. It would take more than a stab in the gut to stop him; his organs were tougher than that.

  But none of that would matter if he lost Aldora. She can’t get away. The thought alone made him want to go berserk. His vision blurred as he imagined grabbing the centaurs’ heads and crushing them between his palms. He could almost feel their bones cracking beneath his hands. He grabbed a clump of grass and ripped it from the ground. The centaurs would die. They would die tonight.

  The fires rose before him, brilliant against the grey gloom of the bog, and his eyes watered despite being well outside the camp. They smelled bitter, releasing the fragrance of blisterwood with strong undertones of enios sea salt which repelled all but the hungriest of undead and was only found within centaur lands. I am not dead yet. Vedikus pressed a hand to his stomach but it came away wet with blood—a lot of blood.

  He had packed the wound with whatever herbs he had left—whatever he hadn't eaten—but it hadn’t been enough to staunch the flow of ful
ly numb his pain. There had been nothing left over for his other wounds.

  None of it matters if Aldora is dead.

  His gaze landed on her, a small husk bent over by the fire nearest to where he hid. Look at me. Vedikus willed it, uncaring if it gave him away. Look for me. Her head lifted and her hair fell back to reveal an ashen, pained expression flickering between a wince and determination. He squinted his eyes and focused on her, discerning what caused her such discomfort. Her eyes never found him despite his internal plea, and a breath of steam released from his mouth.

  He wanted her to see him, hoped that it would bring her some sort of comfort that he was alive and watching, but repressed a laugh at his absurdity. Just because she’s mine doesn’t mean she cares for me.

  He frowned as the chief centaur made his way to her side with food. Vedikus tensed to charge forward and ram his horns into the male for daring to offer his female anything without his permission. The meal went ignored at her side and slowly his rage lessened. Alepos left tersely to help his fellow studs cauterize their flesh.

  Their groans and hisses pleased him.

  Aldora dropped her head and he could no longer see her face. He slunk back and lowered himself into the mud.

  There were ten centaurs in the camp that he could count, with the possibility of at least a half-dozen more scouting outside his view. I killed two. And he would have killed more if he hadn’t become so distracted with his need for the female.

  Vedikus cursed under his breath.

  The centaurs remained on alert but he could easily tell they had become just as focused on Aldora as he had been, as he tried not to be now.

  She was beautiful. He hadn’t realized it until he almost lost her, but seeing her again, alive, if hurt, made him want to claim her in full view of the others. Despite his rent skin, despite the pain, he would take her in the center of the bonfires where the flames would roar in his ears, her moans ringing out, and her body riding his. Let the studs see what they’ll never have.

  But first, he needed a distraction or a temporary ally. He scanned the vicinity already knowing he would have no aid, and he would never be able to leave for fear Aldora would be gone or dead when he made it back. Rallying at Prayer was out of the question.

  The undead that rose from the swamps would not help him due to the fires.

  His axes were gone. Vedikus found the horse that had looted them and sneered, his nostrils flaring wide. He clenched his hands before calming himself. Even equipped with a superior weapon, the centaur would kneel before him and beg for death.

  Tactics and sneak attacks were not his strength, and stealth was all but out of the question. His brother, Astegur, was the planner, the wily one of the Bathyr whose war cry was known far and wide as a signal of a trap having been sprung. Vedikus had never envied the skills of one of his brothers so much as he did now. He could not take a band of centaurs on dry, open lands. Their advantage was too great on prepared terrain.

  Come darkness, I’ll use the fire.

  I’ll light the reeds, and the grasses, the small critters, and set the plains on fire. He could see it in his skull and he grabbed another cluster of stalks and ripped them from the earth. He released a hot exhale of steam over them to dry them out.

  Something ripe tickled his nose, just under the sea salt and smoke. It pulled him out of his thoughts. He turned his face up to catch more of the scent.

  Aldora.

  He caught it, knew it, just as a sudden gust of wind took it from him and blew it away. Vedikus tensed, his eyes searching for her among the camp. She had not moved but her arms shook and her body twitched. She was doing something to herself within the curtain of her hair.

  Several of the studs stilled and eased up from the ground, and he knew... There would be no plan tonight.

  Only death to those who have tried to come between him and Aldora.

  A screeching, ear-piercing howl filled his ears and he rose to his feet, his hooves sinking deep into the mud. The smell of pure human blood on the wind was enough to wake any slumbering creature and drive them into a frenzy.

  Alepos rushed toward Aldora, and it was the last clear thing he saw be a red haze descended over his mind.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ***

  Aldora was dropped violently to the ground by the centaur as something crashed into his side. A battle roar joined the approaching barks of barghests in the distance. She scurried back on her hands and feet and moved away from the scene.

  “Ready your spears—” Alepos’s command suddenly cut off.

  She glanced back to see his body kicking and seizing on his side within the bonfire. Bile rose in her throat as his pained screams filled the air. It wasn’t the centaur flailing in the fire that stopped her from fleeing but the horned minotaur atop him, clutching his skull.

  “Vedikus!” Aldora screamed, watching the flames lick his sides. She startled as centaurs closed in on Vedikus from every side. “Watch out!”

  She dodged away from the horsemen approaching her and moved around the bonfire. Two circled to either side to trap her when a steady, low vibration filtered through the space, over her skin, and into her bones. The howls had vanished and she stilled, swallowing, as the centaur closest to her stopped and slowly raised his spear.

  “Behind you, female. Do not move,” he rasped out, leaving his back open. Her eyes skirted to the other centaur who was also lifting his weapon and looking at something past her.

  The vibration built throughout her whole body and her skin turned to gooseflesh. Aldora could feel something behind her, could sense it through its ravenous aura. There was nothing to protect her if the barghest pounced.

  One by one the centaurs turned their attention to the creatures prowling outside the camp, the ones she had lured with her blood.

  Please. Aldora screamed the word in her head. The growls deepened.

  Her eyes found Vedikus rising out of the fire like an avenging demon, stepping over Alepos’s charred corpse to meet his next opponent heading in her direction. The abrupt loss of their chief seemed to disorient the warriors. She hugged her arms, eyes widening as the fire lapped at Vedikus’s hooves.

  Relief surged through her and something more...

  Something akin to awed terror at the monster that she’d come to rely upon, a thrilling, throat-constricting fear. A vengeful god.

  “Duck!” the centaur closest to her screamed, startling her. He thrust his weapon as she dropped to the ground, the spear tip nearly catching her hair as Vedikus fought his way toward them. The two studs charged, and she huddled as they met the barghest head on. Their snarls and yells filled her ears. Unable to stay, she crawled toward the nearest fire before getting back to her feet.

  Wherever she looked there were large black shadows attacking from every direction with giant jaws snapping as they dove from the dark mists and into the firelight. The barghests all aimed for her, their snouts twitching, breathing in the smell of smoke, cooked horse meat, and blood.

  Another centaur charged across the clearing, stabbing his spear straight through the back of one of the monsters on his way toward her. She swiveled to the side and evaded his grasping arms, running toward Alepos’s corpse.

  “Aldora!” Vedikus called out to her, his voice a snarling rasp, no less wild than the growls of the barghests. “Come to me!”

  She made it to the edge of the bonfire and skidded to a halt, bringing her hand to her mouth. A gag caught in her throat, followed by several more as she fought to contain them. Alepos was nothing more than a crackling husk of red and black meat, his clothing burned off with strands of hair flowing up with the smoke. His head was a ruined mess from Vedikus’s iron grip, and she kneeled with her hand on her belly, applying pressure where her nausea grew. Aldora thanked the sun that she couldn’t smell him or taste the smoke that filled her mouth.

  With the cacophony of fighting filling her ears, she tore off the rest of her tunic sleeve and wrapped it around her hand. She reached for
her weapon, which was still lying among the guttering flames. The flames lapped into the space but quickly weakened, although the wafting heat brought tears to her eyes.

  Aldora grabbed her dagger and dropped it in the dirt before her knees. Rising quickly, she rolled it with her boot to cool it down.

  She turned to seek out Vedikus when something clutched her hair and tugged her to her feet. She yelped and swung her blade, twisting around, and was caught mid-strike. Black, wild eyes met hers. Her gaze lifted to the blood-splattered horns above. “Vedikus.” The air fled her lungs.

  “Let’s go,” he said, releasing her hair. He was covered in soaked-through ragged bandages that fell off his muscles in wet ribbons. He had recovered both of his axes.

  “We have to stay within the light,” she gasped as he brought her to the camp’s border, away from where the remaining centaur poked at the monsters skulking on the fringes of the campsite. Several more emerged from the mist as they entered the clear area around her. Vedikus let go of her and took up both axes again, hands crusted over with drying blood. Her own were dampened with sweat.

  “The light won’t last the night. I’ve fought more barghests than all the times the sun has shown through the mist. We can run to Prayer. Once we’re within the circle of lights, we’ll be safe.”

  “Your wounds...” They were apparent, even those that were covered, and she couldn’t help but notice his pallid, pale complexion under the grime. His stance sagged between breaths and his head hung as if it was too hard for him to hold it up. Have I made a mistake?

  “They are nothing,” he snapped. Aldora grabbed his arm. “Can you run?”

  She glanced down at herself, jerking when a scream sounded from behind. She turned to see a centaur being dragged, horse legs kicking, by the jowls of a barghest deeper into the mist.

  “I can run,” she said quickly but eyed the others of the pack. They seemed to be waiting for her to do so. “Is there no other way?”

  “Can you afford to lose more blood?” His question caught her off guard.

  “I—” She stopped and hugged her clawed arm where most of the blood had stopped dripping. “I can lose more.” She hadn’t dug deep enough to lose a lot despite her efforts.