Caitlin And The Cowboy (Western Night Series 4)

Home > Other > Caitlin And The Cowboy (Western Night Series 4) > Page 58
Caitlin And The Cowboy (Western Night Series 4) Page 58

by Rosie Harper


  Nothing existed anymore, obliterated by the big bang that originated from her insides. There was no feeling other than bliss, everything else drowned in a deep and profound state of serenity. All that remained was completely and utterly perfect.

  Breaking through and into that perfection, as suddenly as he brought her there, was the Minotaur. Having shaken his woman to force her back into reality, the beast made it abundantly clear that it was his turn to feel explode.

  Enclosing the entirety of Adrasteia’s body with his muscle-bound arms, the monster first made sure that she was completely immobilized again. Then, as if he had lost what little control he had over that animalistic body, the Minotaur proceeded to shake and vibrate as if he was feeling far less than well, roaring at the moon all the while.

  Squeezed from all sides with an ever increasing force, and stuck in an uncomfortable position, the woman’s own enjoyment began to dwindle. Within an instant, the clarity of her mind returned to Adrasteia, and with came the emotion of fear.

  Gods… Oh, gods, what have I done? She wondered frantically, fearing that the creature, caught the way it was in the throes of passion, might fail to save her frail body from its inhuman strength. For a couple of seconds she lingered like that, held, immobilized, and completely helpless.

  Then, without warning, the beast’s deep bellowing turned into a high screaming. Shrieking toward the sky, the creature stopped shaking, its rock-hard manhood growing even firmer and larger within Adrasteia’s exhausted body. Within less than a second, the creature released itself completely within the woman’s insides, filling them with a veritable river of warm goo.

  Almost instantly, the Minotaur’s skin began to ripple and shift, and he finally lessened his grip over his now terrified love partner. Barely able to breathe, the woman almost fainted after touching the ground. After taking a single breath, however, it turned out that the lack of air had not been as bad as she feared, and Adrasteia immediately made some space between the two of them, still on all fours.

  By then, the Minotaur was more beast than man, having taken on a shape even larger than the previous one, and by far more monstrous. Still warping and contracting, the creature shrieked and rolled on the floor for several minutes, before suddenly, out of the blue, going completely silent and collapsing onto the ground.

  When the dust settled, there was no trace of the monster that plagued the island of Crete; only the prone, unconscious body of an adult human male.

  ***

  In full combat gear, Demetrios raced through the streets of Knossos, as if something was chasing him. Had it not been the middle of the night, his passing would have inevitably been greeted with the mirthful exclamations of local girls, but this time he had to settle for silence.

  Not that it bothered him by any means; being the only son of King Minos, it had been a rare occasion that the Prince had the chance to hear his own thoughts. Tonight, however, the contents of his mind were less than pleasant.

  Zeus damn that woman, the Prince silently cursed as he swept one of his long, golden curls off the left side of his face. Teeth clenched and both fists formed tightly, he raged at what he had to do. Still, Demetrios reminded himself, we all have our responsibilities.

  The doors to the palace before him, the Prince immediately greeted the guards before allowing them to salute him in return. Tradition dictated that he merely passed by, but Demetrios enjoyed regarding his soldiers with the respect he insisted they deserved.

  “My Prince,” one of the guards spoke as the son of his lord approached the heavy pair of doors, “The King is busy with his… ahem, duties.”

  “I know full well of father’s duties,” Demetrios responded, placing a particular emphasis on the word’s disdainful tone. “I wouldn’t have come here if it were not a matter of utmost urgency, Hyrtius.”

  Taking note of the guard’s improved disposition after guessing his name right, the scion of Crete continued “It is a matter regarding the great beast. I require an audience.”

  The guard’s good mood evaporated instantly, replaced in turn by an expression that portrayed a combination of fear and vigilance. “I understand,” he responded grimly, signaling to the other one to move to the side and let their lord’s only son proceed forward.

  The large doors now behind him, Demetrios traversed the red carpeted hallway with a hurried pace. He paid no heed to the excessive luxury that lay so needlessly strewn about the place; all he thought about was his duty to the people, and the unpleasant encounter that followed.

  There was no need for the Prince to even use his eyes. The excessive moaning and furniture shaking that indicated a whole night’s worth of fornication had clearly shown him where he needed to go. Now before the entrance to his father’s pleasure chamber, the prince took a long breath, closed his eyes and started counting to ten, hoping that this ritual would grant him the strength to endure what lay beyond.

  To the depths of Tartarus with this, the Prince told himself, barely getting to five. Nothing can prepare me for this.

  Hesitantly, Demetrius forced himself to bat his right hand against the wall right next to the chamber’s entrance, producing a series of loud thuds.

  “Who dares disturb King Minos in his sacred duties?” The King’s voice was piercing but high, hardly fitting for someone of such stature.

  “It is I, Demetrios,” the Prince replied, doing his best to hide a profound feeling of disgust.

  “Ah, my boy! Go right ahead, please! As you already know, the doors to my palace are always opened to you!” A series of chuckles could be heard beyond the door, both male and female and of various ages. Demetrios, as usual, refused to allow himself to witness whatever went on inside.

  “I would be glad to, father,” the scion of Knossos spoke again, hoping that the interposing walls would be enough to hide his distaste, “but there is a matter of urgency that demands mine, or rather our, attention.”

  “I can hardly see what could be more important than the pleasures of mind and flesh,” the King responded, less than amused, while a series of wet, slapping sounds echoed from his side of the room. “But I trust that, being my son, you are all too capable of dealing with it on your own.”

  “The, I shall require some men,” Demetrios continued, completely disregarding what his father had just said “Armed and trained men.”

  “Kinky,” was all the King had to say in return.

  Not all are as vile and twisted, as you, you sorry sack of – Just barely, the Prince managed to prevent himself from saying what was on his mind aloud. Now barely in control of his own actions, he said the only thing he could in order to steer the conversation where he needed it to go.

  “The Minotaur,” the Prince spoke, putting special effort into exclaiming it loudly enough for everyone to hear.

  Immediately, the wet slapping sounds stopped. Much more quickly than was expected, the entrance to the pleasure chamber opened up, revealing a sweaty, nude figure of King Minos.

  Although he had been known as a looker in his prime, the stresses and pleasures of ruling a city-state have taken their toll, and Knossos’ regal figure now resembled a caricature of hedonism: Fat, hirsute, and with oily skin. Although whoever shared the room with the King had hidden under the bed sheets, Demetrios could still notice their wiggling forms from where he was standing.

  “In Zeus’, Poseidon’s and Hades’ name, son,” the King spoke the latter’s name with as much disdain as was possible, “if I didn’t know any better I’d think you want me not to enjoy myself!”

  Oh no, we wouldn’t want that, the Prince thought, enjoying the small pleasure of robbing Minos of his own.

  “Now tell me that you were joking so I can get back, ahem, business,” the King’s tone implied that he didn’t want to hear any other answer, which Demetrios was all too happy not to oblige.

  “Oh, I wish that were true, father,” it took all the strength he had not to display a savage grin while he spoke, “but sadly, we have ourselves a runn
er.”

  “Boy or girl?”

  “A woman,” Demetrios responded. “Adrasteia. You know the one; this is not her first time.”

  “Ah, the dissident,” King Minos seemed relieved. “When did she run away?”

  “I’d say about an hour ago. One of the guards thought that he saw her break off the beach party and head out toward the mountain. Later on he checked her house. She wasn’t there. The man came to me immediately, and I came to you.”

  “Good thinking. I assume you’ve told no one else of this?

  “For now it’s just me, you, and the guard,” the Prince replied, not quite sure what his father was getting at, “and the girl’s father, I guess.”

  “He doesn’t concern me,” the King seemed annoyed at having to explain, “good man, wealthy too, but ultimately unimportant.” After taking a second to think things through, the ruler of Knossos continued “Here’s what you are to do, Demetrios: You will tell the father – “

  “His name is – “

  “I don’t care what his name is!” the King yelled, enraged at having been interrupted, “You will tell him and the guard that a search party has been mobilized and sent. Come tomorrow, the girl who preached about the monster will be dead, killed by the very inhuman thing she worshipped. Everybody wins, especially me. Got it?”

  “But, father, I – “

  “Will do as ordered,” Minos finished the Prince’s sentence for him. “Or I might just have to look a bit deeper into the circumstances surrounding your birth, my little goldilocks.”

  Not saying a word, Demetrios merely stared into the King’s eyes, doing his best to stop himself from launching a stream of projectile vomit right into the man’s mouth.

  Best not to. Knowing him, he’d like it.

  “I take it that you agree,” the ruler of Knossos decided to break that awkward silence. “That’s my boy,” the obese man finished, retreating back into his pleasure chamber while happily displaying all his layers of rippling fat.

  The next several hours Demetrios spent pacing the city streets, vocally spouting contempt for his father, the way the city was ran, and the Minotaur himself. The odds were good that he’d have spent the whole night like that, were it not for the unexpected approach of a dark figure.

  “Maybe I can lend you a helping hand there, respected Prince Demetrios,” the figure said as it came into view, large, impressively built, and reeking of sweat.

  “I have no need for unattractive prostitutes, let alone male ones,” Demetrios replied, ready to continue his one-man nightly show.

  “But have you need of the Minotaur’s head, our most esteemed Prince?” The man asked then, cackling as he formed the words.

  Intrigued, Demetrios raised an eyebrow, scanning the figure’s stature from head to toe. It was obvious that the stranger was a man of combat, but that meant little on Crete; heroes of all sorts had attempted to slay the beast and failed.

  “Whether or not I do, stranger, depends on your answer to two questions. First off, who are you? Secondly, how do you plan on succeeding where so many others have failed?”

  Displaying a pair of yellow, rotten teeth, the man widened his robe, exposing an array of bronze weaponry strapped to his side, gleaming in the moonlight. What didn’t gleam though was a set of three arrows, black as the deepest night.

  “Are these…” the Prince tried asking, but the words quickly got stuck in his throat.

  “The black arrows of Hades,” the armed figure responded, grinning madly all the while. “These babies will pierce anything, even the Minotaur’s invulnerable hide. And if one of them pierces hit heart… well, that’ll be that.”

  Initially awed, the Prince quickly regained his composure. “If what you say is true, and these really are the legendary relics, then what do you need me for?” Pointing his arm toward the general area of the monster’s mountain, Demetrios continued “Why did you not slay the beast by now?”

  Sighing, the man’s face took on a more serious expression. “That, my Prince, is a long story, but in essence… I used to be a slaver. The business fell through when the Minotaur massacred my group, leaving me for dead. Vowing revenge, I travelled the world searching for the means to take it. Finally, through means you wouldn’t believe if I told you, I came across this set of arrows.”

  “That still doesn’t answer any of my questions, slaver.”

  “Former slaver, please,” the man answered, grinning once more. “Panaetius is my name, to give you one answer. As for the other, well, let’s say that I was a bit short on men. You see, there arrows have cost me everything and everyone I had.”

  “You seem to be taking it well,” the Prince commented, now showing genuine interest. If this man is indeed right, I can save the girl and slay the beast!

  “It will have been well worth it, I assure you, once the creature has been dealt with. However, in order to that… I needed someone’s help. Guards, soldier, mercenaries, none listened! You, on the other hand, my Prince… you are an educated man.”

  In place of an answer, Demetrios merely raised his second eyebrow.

  “You know full well of the forces I hold here. With your help we can bring the beast down, becoming immortalized as heroes!”

  If he only knew how little help I can give… the Prince pondered for a brief moment, before his agile mind handed him an idea.

  “As of this moment, Panaetius, I can provide zero help save that of my own,” the man’s disappointment became immediately evident. “But… when you think about it, do we even need more men?”

  “We need at least one more able body, Prince,” the former slaver responded in a dismissive tone. “I’d hate to get on the King’s bad side for letting his son get killed while creating distracting the beast so I can shoot.”

  I’ve got you! In that case, my friend, if a distraction is all that we require, you need not worry for a second, for I can get you something better.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as a living, breathing bait,” Demetrios responded, pleased that everything was about to land into place. .

  ***

  An hour had passed, and the former Minotaur was just about to rise, having regained consciousness.

  Now no longer afraid, Adrasteia had a good chance to inspect the man’s features while he was out. With a strong, tall body, crowned with a full head of black hair, and sporting a thick beard, he represented a fine example of good breeding.

  Now in full control of his own actions, all the man did for a minute or so was to stare deeply into the woman’s eyes with his set of yellow ones, not uttering a single word. When it became apparent that Adrasteia would not be the first one to speak, the Minotaur finally opened his mouth, uttering but a single word.

  “Why?”

  “I knew there was more to you than met the eye,” the woman replied, taking a slow step forward with every word she spoke.

  The man was just about to back off, but before he could do so, she gently put her arm around his waist, pulling her still nude body closer and closer, before joining their lips with a passionate kiss.

  Caught as they were in each other’s embrace, time ceased to exist for the pair. In their reality, only they existed and nothing more. This lasted for a good while, until a sharp, painful piece of the outside world decided to remind them of its existence by stabbing the man through his right pectoral muscle.

  Shocked, the bearded man shoved Adrasteia away from his body, causing her to fall on her backside. In disbelief, the woman immediately raised her head in time to witness the imposing figure of her man stagger left and right, scanning their surroundings frantically in search of the attacker.

  Quickly, another shot followed, piercing his stomach. In pain, the man let out a roar of uncontrolled wrath that became more and more inhuman with every passing moment.

  Panicking, Adrasteia began turning her own gaze left and right, hoping to help her lover learn who it was that fired the arrows. Almost immediately, aided by the unclouded
judgment of someone who did not have two arrows sticking out of them, she noticed a distinct sheen of bronze in the distance to her left.

  With no time to warn the Minotaur of the threat, Adrasteia threw herself in-between her lover and the armored man’s direction, taking a sharp, painful black arrow to the shoulder, and falling to the ground instantly.

  Panting, all she managed to do next was raise her head in time to notice a shallow, X-shaped little scratch, on the place where the Minotaur’s heart would have been. Her lover, by now having taken on the form of terrible creature that the people of Knossos knew him by, immediately ripped both arrows out of his body, shrieking loudly while doing so.

  “I am the Minotaur!” The creature exclaimed in a voice that was somewhere between a yell and a roar. “I am the first son of King Minos, cursed for my father’s arrogance to spend every night as a rampaging beast!” He continued, clutching the arrows in the closed palm of his right hand, all while taking hurried steps toward the area that hid their ambushers.

  “Forced to prey upon whoever dares to stumble upon me,” the beast spoke again as it took another step. Suddenly, another arrow took flight. However, this one broke upon contact with the Minotaur’s bare skin.

  “With nowhere to rest but this cursed, indestructible mountain!” the creature finally roared, abandoning any semblance of self-control as it dashed toward the two attackers, much faster than one would expect from something of that size and weight.

  Screams and roars quickly followed, interspaced by the occasional sound of clanging steel. Shivering from blood loss and anticipation, Adrasteia wanted to take a closer look, but the pain in her shoulder prevented her from getting up.

  For almost a minute she remained like that, lying and waiting, kept in the dark in more ways than one. By the time the noises stopped, the woman was one the verge of fainting.

  Finally, as a set of footsteps interrupted the shortest and least pleasant silence of her life, Adrasteia barely managed to lift her head. Immediately, into her view came the bloodied, rugged figure of the Minotaur in his human form, and with him came a thorough sense of relief. He walked slowly but firmly, holding a tattered but clean-looking wet cloth in his left hand.

 

‹ Prev