Fuck me.
“Why not?” I shout, my hands going to my hips. This guy is working my last nerve. He just stands there clipping the hedge like he’s not being a massive pain in our asses. Arawl looks like he’s about ready to murder him on the spot and is contemplating how the horsey end will taste. I figure I am saving the centaur’s ass here—quite literally.
“Well,” he drawls, scratching at his jaw, “if you try to go into the mountains, there is a particularly nasty large nest of griffins up there. They’ve pretty much taken over the entire peak. A damn nuisance. I don’t know what the master was thinking when he put his favorite breeding pair up there.”
“And in the valley?” I ask, my eyes narrowing on him.
He shrugs. “The way is blocked coming from the valley too. It takes you into some of the worst parts of the maze if you come in from there. Not something I would recommend, frankly, and many fools try to come in from the valley all the time. I have to say I have rarely seen anyone come in by this route. That makes your presence quite curious.” His brown eyes fasten on us for a long moment before he goes back to clipping. As he moves, I see a familiar massive skull buried with the shrubbery.
“What happened to the ogres?” I ask casually. I see Fahuri’s ears perk and a confused frown settles on her features. She’s been so certain that this is the way; I know she’s eager to know the answer. I step back slightly and gesture to the skull and worry fills her eyes.
“The unnatural has touched this place,” she snarls.
The centaur looks at her placidly. “Touched this place? No, it originates from the master’s tower at the heart of the labyrinth where he feeds it.”
“Feeds it what?” Arawl growls, his fur bristling threateningly as he bares his impressive fangs.
“It has quite the appetite,” the centaur murmurs, the clippers hanging lax in his grip as he stares at me and Fahuri as if just really seeing us. “Though it will take any offering, it lusts for females to satisfy its appetite. The ogres didn’t like it when the master took all the females away that they’d worked so hard to gather, so the master didn’t show them any pity when they tried to bring down his tower at the edge of their territory. Now he rules all of it.”
“Have there been werewolf females brought here?” Arawl queries, the threat of violence in every word he snaps out.
The centaur smiles without concern. “I suppose you will have to go in and see.” He moves back and raises his hand to the hedge.
Arawl stiffens and turns to us.
“You will all wait out here for me while I scout within,” he orders calmly. “I will not risk even one of you within whatever madness constructed this place.”
“Arawl, what you speak of is suicide,” Fahuri argues. “We agreed to do this together.”
“I won’t let you go in without me,” I snap. “We’re in this together. You may need my magic, and I’m not just going to sit out here, waiting on my ass for a griffin to decide I look tasty while gods know what may be chewing on you in there. We stand a better chance and are safer together.”
“Ana is right,” Jinx says soberly. “We need to stick together, our magic and your strength if we want to find out what is going on. If someone is collecting females to feed some sort of monster, it won’t be long until they start collecting from the human world—if they haven’t already started. It concerns us too.”
“We will go by your side whether you permit it or not,” Vrox adds, and Tas nods sharply in agreement. Arawl stares at all of us and Rashi smiles at the look of shock on my mate’s face.
“We are with you, Alpha,” he says quietly, but so earnestly that Arawl swallows back the surge of emotion he’s obviously feeling and inclines his head.
“We do this together then.” He turns and steps toward the centaur. “How do we enter this labyrinth?”
“The entrance is hidden until you are upon it,” the centaur intones as he points to a place in the hedge that appears to be shadowed. “The blessings of the gods be with you.” Pain fills his face, but it is banked once more under an impervious mask. It occurs to me that he is operating almost robotically, the puppet of his unknown master I’m guessing. I don’t have a chance to wonder about it further because he slips back within the greenery and disappears.
Arawl grunts warily but we file in, sliding in through the narrow gap between the hedges in single-file. I grip his fur in my hands as I follow right on his heels, determined not to be separated from him. What is perhaps not surprising is that there’s no sign of the centaur. Make no mistake: I’ve seen the movie. I’m just waiting for some birds with removable heads to come springing out at me from nowhere at this point as we walk deeper along the paths of the maze. Gradually, everything around us becomes grayer and a mist curls through the labyrinth.
I jerk back in surprise, yanking on Arawl as the bush ahead of us rustles. Instead of a monster, however, a woman with the ears and tail of a cow stumbles out into the thick fog in front of us. Small, dainty horns push up from her brow as her breath puffs out of her in a frightened manner. Her face is oddly shaped, like a human’s but wider and longer with a large nose, generous mouth, and big eyes that fill her face. Even her golden hue is not actually her skin but a delicate golden-brown fur fuzzing all over her. A long white gown of some ancient style hangs from her limbs and it flows around her as she lifts a hand in entreaty.
“What is a minotaur female doing this far north?” Fahuri queries aloud. Tas begins to move toward her, his open hands held out. Her large, soft ears droop a little at his approach, but she remains expressionless as he draws closer.
“Man, this is freaking me out,” Jinx mumbles. “No one else have a feeling that there’s just something too odd about her?”
I nod in agreement, though Fahuri gives her mate a chiding look.
“We can’t know that for sure. She could have escaped and is now lost. We should help her if we can. We would want someone to help one of our females if they came across her wandering through the maze. She is clearly traumatized.”
What she says makes sense, but my skin crawls again as Tas gets closer to her. Looking at her reminds me of a carnivorous plant waiting for its prey to land upon its petals. I could just be paranoid, but everything in me is screaming at Tas to back away from her. As he draws closer to her, within touching distance, I just can’t hold it back.
“Tas! Wait!”
The male turns to look at me. “What is it, Ana?”
“Ana...” Arawl says slowly.
“She doesn’t feel right,” I insist. I know from the look on his face that he thinks I am acting oddly, but I don’t care. There is something wrong with her. “Does she smell normal to you? Because I’m telling you she’s not right.” I start backing away slowly, wanting to put more distance between it and myself.
Fahuri sighs but then her body goes rigid after she scents the air.
“Back away!” she shouts, but not in time before the minotaur cow snarls, her eyes glowing like green points of light in her skull. Her bones crack as she grows larger, and her teeth extend into terrible fangs, hooked claws emerging from her fingertips. She darts forward to swipe at Tas. On guard, he ducks effortlessly out of the way as he brings his lance up, only to have his strike parried by her giant horns. She opens her mouth and bellows. It’s an eerie sound that gives me goose-pimples, and my heart leaps up to my throat as she lowers her head and charges straight at us.
I don’t have to worry about being gored because Arawl snatches me out of the way just as Vrox steps forward, swinging his sword in a massive arc. Blood sprays everywhere but still, she doesn’t go down. She bellows again and lunges, her enormous fangs snapping as she attempts to make a grab for Vroxi’s shoulder. She’s knocked away by a sharp blow from Tas’s lance and he rushes up on her side.
Fahuri shouts, “Wounds aren’t going to slow her down much! She bleeds too slowly. You need to break her neck!”
Rashi jumps forward, tucking his mate behind. “Jinx,
stand guard,” he snaps. He’s a streak of sable fur as he attacks in time with Arawl as the two males join Vrox and Tas in the fray. The cow fights viciously, deranged by something that I have no doubt is lodged within her, growing and consuming her from the inside out. Like the centaur, she’s also a puppet, but with even less autonomy. She is more a shell now, with nothing left of herself.
The werewolves bleed, and the minotaur cow bleeds, but no one is making any ground. She bellows and flings them off her as soon as they attack. Fahuri circles anxiously beneath Jinx’s watchful eye, looking for any place where she might be able to lend aid. Jinx frowns and widens his stance, his arms rising in preparation to cast. A fiery dart bursts through the air, slashing into the cow’s neck, followed by another and another as Jinx flings them through the aether that separates him from her. I follow up with my lightning whip spell, slicing at the other side of her neck whenever the werewolves give me an opening. Although our magic isn’t enough to do lethal damage, it’s enough of a distraction that the males are able to draw in closer, ducking away from her savage claws and ravaging horns. Their strikes become more decisive in her disorientation.
When Arawl’s sword, by chance, makes it around her horns as she turns her head toward Vrox, he plunges his blade into the side of her neck. The wound is ugly and deep but not fatal. Yet, a silence immediately falls all around us as she stumbles back. The minotaur cow stops advancing and stands in one place, swaying side to side, her massive horns arching left and right. Her eyes clear for a moment, the light receding to show soft brown eyes and her face crumbles in grief.
“Please, end this,” she whispers painfully before her consciousness ebbs away again into the emptiness. Arawl bows his head with respect and then lunges forward from the side with such speed that the cow barely has time to turn her head before his blade strikes home again and slices through the thick skin, muscle, and bone. She bellows, but the males around her pierce her with their blades to hold her in place. Fahuri breaks through them to grip the female’s horns in her hands and jerks the head down with her weight, causing the head to tear away. The body jerks once before it drops, a black ichor flowing over the stones of the labyrinth floor.
Shaking, Fahuri sets the female’s head at the opposite side of the path against the hedge. “I don’t trust whatever magic is at work here,” she says. “It is better not to chance any sort of regeneration.” Her voice drifts off and she watches in horror as the branches from the hedge crawl out to wrap around the head to draw it slowly into the greenery. I swing around in time to see her body disappear into the hedges on the other side.
I stumble over to Arawl, my body still shaking from the adrenaline high. I’d thought I was prepared to face any manner of craziness. I was wrong. This is so much worse than anything I was ready for. This wasn’t a dark version of a Jim Henson film come to life. This was more like Silent Hill dumped inside a labyrinth, eager to feast upon pain and misery. My mate draws me into his arms and holds me for a long moment before he draws away, catching my hand in his as he strides deeper into the labyrinth.
Chapter 25
Arawl
The labyrinth grows darker, but the inky shadows, blacker than the darkest of natural shades, slip around easily, watching us. They haven’t attacked yet, but I don’t know what their intention is. Is it just to watch for their master? Then I hope to give him something to see that will send a message to his dark heart. I believe the maze is alive, though I don’t share my suspicions with any of the others, not even my beloved mate. Not yet. I am not sure yet. The way it consumed the corpse of the minotaur was what made me suspect it.
A sentient and truly evil being that now has us caught in its tangled web of vines.
A tangled web is right. As we continue deeper along the twisting path, I am able to see little. Everywhere I look my vision is obscured by an angle of the hedge. I can’t see my companions. I can’t even see my mate. I depend entirely on my tight grip around her hand to know that she is still with me. Even the sound of her footsteps is muffled in the haze we pass through.
A hot gust of air and a low growl are all the warning I get, and I do not hesitate to swing my sword at fierce, glowing eyes set with the lean face of a half-starved, depraved werewolf. A Warue male, his fur practically falling out but his size larger than what nature would have provided. He towers over me, strange metal imbedded in him as if melted into patches of skin bare of fur. Ana claws at my arm in fear but I am forced to let go of her as I snarl and lunge at my foe. Unlike the minotaur cow, he does not try to lure me in but he attacks outright in an ambush. Had I been caught unaware and been any slower, I have no doubt I would be dead.
Foamy green drool dribbles down from between his teeth. There is nothing behind his hollow, glowing gaze. He rushes forward in another attack, slamming into the hedge barrier. For a moment, I feel the disturbing sensation of the greenery coming to life and reaching for the blood slicking over my wounds. I strike with my other hand, digging my claws into his vulnerable stomach that is not covered in metal, and he howls in pain, ripping himself back from my grasp, even though he separates large chunks of his abdomen in the process. I drop the gore in my hand and spring forward to attack, drawing my power into my blade with every strike to amplify it as a killing rage sweeps over me.
I want it dead where it cannot threaten my people or my mate. I want its master to see the death that waits for him. I taste the bitter bile of excitement in my mouth of a hunt seeing its successful end. Although the creature that inhabits the Warue male shows no sign of weakening, I know that its time has come.
My limbs are heavy as I face it, and my sword held slack before me, but still I grin triumphantly at it. “I win, creature.”
Its face contorts into a mask of rage and in its vacant eyes I believe I can see its master within, his arms upraised in fury. He knows I am getting closer. I laugh and step in as the werewolf lunges, dropping to my knees to bring my blade into the gut, cutting along the route I already savaged. With a wrench of my arms, pain burning in my joints, I yank my sword up through the body, piercing vital organs as it howls in pain and attempts to scramble away from me.
What it doesn’t understand is that there is no escaping now.
Reaching back, I grab my other sword and ram it down through its collar, driving my blade beneath the metal coating its chest, seeking the heart buried within. The werewolf’s body thrashes beneath me, its claws raking painful furrows down my arms, but I ignore it, focused on my task. I growl in triumph when the blade sinks deep and what is left of the Warue male spasms as it sinks into the ground in death.
I stoop to yank my weapons free and leap clear from the vicinity of the corpse. The vines are faster this time as they snake out from the hedges to twine around the body and draw it into whatever hidden depths they possess. I hate this evil place. The taint is closing in around me and I know it well now, that very thing which Ana had spoken of.
Something rotten that is warping every part of this place. Nothing that walks this maze is natural, and all of it seeks our death for daring to enter.
I snort to myself. At least that is one less creature in the labyrinth to hurt my mate.
My blood chills and I pause, scenting the air. It occurs to me that I didn’t hear her during the battle, nor had she offered any magic in aid. I turn my head, my eyes scouring the dark fog.
“Ana?” I call out. There is no response. Empty silence greets me.
I rush along the wall of the hedge, tracing my steps back, but nothing lingers in the cold, foggy air, not her scent or evidence that she’d been there or where she might have disappeared to. She is gone, and I am alone in the maze. I turn my head back and forth, letting out a series of yips, and listen. There are no answering calls. There is no sign of my kin and tribemates, and no sign of my mate. Anguish fills me as the reality of her absence sets in. I throw back my head, her name wailing out from me in a cry of agony.
“Ana!”
Chapter 26
&
nbsp; Ana
I don’t know where I am. The thought is terrifying. I’m not even sure what happened. The werewolf had jumped at us, his body mutated by magic, and Arawl went to fight it. I had only stepped back a couple of paces to gauge where I might strike when the hedge moved around me. My skin still itches from the scrapes where the vines grabbed me. Stupid, stupid for stepping too close to the shrubbery. I’m lucky to have escaped the homicidal plant-life. Generating a small electrical storm around me had been an instinctive defense. It hadn’t done any damage to the maze, but it had been enough for the hedge to expel me...
I just have no fucking clue where.
I think I hear Arawl calling me, but his voice sounds far away. I can’t trust it, though. I can’t trust anything about this place. I slip my knife out and hold it in front of me. Even though Arawl had spent most evenings early on in our journey teaching me how to defensively use the long dagger, it still feels unfamiliar in my hand. I know I can’t depend on my magic alone in this situation. In any case, it serves two purposes as I cast an illumination spell on the blade, providing meager light glowing from the metal to cut through the darkness surrounding me.
I half-expect a monstrous pyramid-headed creature to burst from the hedge.
Shivering despite the warmth of my cloak, I walk along the path, humming Green Day’s “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” under my breath to keep myself from freaking out. The darkness feels almost tangible as the mist rolls through it at the edge of the conjured light. All around me, the hedges rattle and creak but I’m careful to keep moving, sticking to the center of the path.
Something moves just ahead of me. I can only just faintly see a tall shadowy silhouette. Whatever it is, it’s considerably larger than me. And it’s waiting for me. A predator lurking in the shadows. I have zero advantage in a scenario where I’m just walking into whatever trap it has devised.
The Accidental Werewolf's Mate: A Monsterly Yours Romance (Monstery Yours Book 3) Page 18
