The Centaur's Bride

by Tamsin Ley

  He clutched the gun in his right hand, glad for the extra protection. His centaur blood commanded every nerve in his body, seeming to grant his senses extra power as he scanned the night.

  A terrified squeal split the darkness from the direction of the camp. He must’ve passed Ivy-Jane on his way to the herd. Spinning, he leapt over a tall clump of sagebrush and barreled toward the cries, adding his own voice to the night in hope of driving the predator away. “Ivy-Jane!”

  The foal’s pitiful cries grew louder as he approached. A frantic rattle of branches to his right slowed his approach. In a pit of darkness next to the rocks, the tiny foal struggled within a mat of brush. Atop the nearest boulder, a pair of glowing cat eyes caught the moonlight, and Black could make out the hunched shoulders of a big cat against the midnight sky. He raised his gun, straining to aim in the darkness.

  And then a pinprick of fire rounded the stone.

  A single stick of firewood held high above her head, Renee crept past the lion without even seeing it. The lion shifted its gaze to the helpless woman, and Black’s chest felt like it was about to explode. “Renee, watch out!”

  She whirled, facing the rock, her face a mask of terror in the flickering light of her makeshift torch. A scream as fierce as the wildcat’s echoed from her throat, and she shoved the torch upward toward the coiled beast.

  The cat drew back, one paw poised as if to ward off the attack. Then it turned and sprang off the far side of the stone, disappearing into the night.

  Black’s protective instincts spurred him on. He reached Renee’s side without thinking. “Are you all right? I told you to stay by the fire!”

  She stumbled back a few steps, staring up at him. Her mouth was a perfect circle of shock as her gaze traveled across his chest and over his heaving flanks.

  Heat flooded his skin as he realized what she saw. A monster. Him as a monster. Gritting his teeth, Black shoved his emotions down. There was no way to undo the damage. He’d deal with the repercussions later. Right now he had to keep both Renee and Ivy-Jane out of the mountain lion’s jaws. He shoved the gun into Renee’s hand. “Hold this.” Plunging through the wiry branches ensnaring the foal, he snapped limbs and plowed through leaves. “It’s okay, darling. I’m here. You’re all right.”

  He reached the little horse and knelt to slip his arms beneath her belly, untwining her gangly legs from the grasping branches. Backing out of the mat of foliage, he was relieved to see Renee still waiting, her make-shift torch flickering down to a glowing red coal. He set Ivy-Jane on her feet, but the foal cried out and immediately collapsed.

  Black felt sick to his stomach. “She may have a broken leg.”

  “What do we do?” Renee’s voice cracked and wavered, and her eyes locked on the foal. At least she wasn’t freaking out completely.

  He needed to get everyone back to the fire before the mountain lion regained its courage, and the fastest way to do that was to carry them. He knelt to scoop the foal into his arms again and shot a sideways look at Renee. He’d never had a rider before, but how hard could it be? “Get on.”

  Even through the darkness, he could feel the weight of her shocked stare. “Wh-what?”

  “That cat may return at any moment, and I have two easy meals in my charge. Now get on.”

  For a moment, she seemed undecided. Then she dropped her torch and ground it into the dirt, stabbing it deeply to ensure it was extinguished. Shifting the gun to her right hand, she used her left to steady herself against his shoulder and swung a leg over his back. As her weight settled against his spine, his hide shivered in a strange sort of pleasure. But he didn’t have time to contemplate that now.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  He felt her nod, and lurched to his feet.

  Renee clung to Black’s shoulders and concentrated on the man in front of her rather than the horse beneath her. What the hell was he? She thought back to her semester of Greek mythology in high school. A satyr? No, she seemed to recall that was a goat-man. Centaur. That was it. She gripped her knees against his sides as he trotted back toward camp. The ride was less jarring than on Petunia, and she didn’t know if that was because he made the effort for her, or if centaurs just naturally had a smoother gait.

  Centaur. How could such a thing be possible? The thought flitted through her mind that perhaps he’d brought her out here camping and drugged the wine or something. She had to be experiencing a vivid hallucination. But his shoulder beneath her hand, not to mention his rippling flanks now between her legs felt very real.

  And there was another thought. Between her legs. She’d just had sex with this man, this creature. A man with a stallion for an alter ego. And how could he be a man one minute and a centaur the next?

  They reached the camp and Black lay the foal down next to the fire. The poor little thing curled up in a heap and closed her eyes, obviously exhausted. Once again Black knelt, his head drooping as he waited for Renee to dismount. She slid free, breaking contact reluctantly, despite her confusion.

  Black’s not human. The concept made her legs weak. But the magnificent creature kneeling before her was real.

  She didn’t understand any of this. But she liked Black. He was sexy and protective and… really good in bed. At a complete loss on how to address anything that had just happened, Renee said, “Well, tonight was… exciting.”

  Chest heaving from the effort of carrying both her and the foal, he gritted, “Why didn’t you stay put like I asked you?”

  “Our horses got loose.” She pointed into the darkness, heart racing as she recalled the thundering hoofbeats coming out of the darkness. “They ran right through our camp and almost on top of me. And then I heard what turns out to be Ivy-Jane crying for help. You said the mountain lion didn’t like fire, so I thought maybe I could scare it off and save what sounded like a baby.”

  He lurched to his feet, hooves striking the dirt with purposeful intensity as he turned to face her. “You could have gotten yourself killed.”

  She threw back her shoulders, her blood boiling. How dare he be angry at her? “I was worried for you. You ran out there all alone! How was I supposed to know you had a secret superpower?”

  He stopped his advance, mouth twitching as if fighting back a smile. “Secret superpower?”

  She flung out a hand to gesture at his sleek legs. “What do you call it? I didn’t even know there was such a thing as a centaur-horse-shapeshifter whatever you’re called. I’ve heard of werewolves, but a were-horse? Is that what you are?”

  His eyes danced with amusement, and his mouth looked a little less glum. “Not exactly. But there are horse shapeshifters. And I wasn’t supposed to tell you.”

  “Well, you didn’t exactly tell me, did you?” She made a sweeping gesture, telling him to look at himself.

  Black broke into a resigned laugh.

  Her irritation ebbed a fraction. He was sexy when he laughed. “Are there more of you?”

  He pressed his lips together and looked away.

  He said he couldn’t talk about it. She wondered why, but didn’t prod him again. What did she know of the magic or whatever it was that allowed him to do this, to be this mythical creature? Maybe he’d turn into a pile of ash if he talked about it. Her gaze shot to the exhausted foal. “Is she going to be okay?”

  “I don’t know.” He shifted his weight uncomfortably.

  “Well aren’t you a vet or something? Can’t you tell?”

  “I need to examine her more closely, but it’s difficult in this form.”

  She frowned, confused. “Can’t you change back?”

  “I… can. I just… I don’t shift in front of people. Not even my herd.”

  “Oh.” For some reason that statement hurt. They’d just made the most impassioned, intense love she’d ever experienced in her life, and now he didn’t want to show her this part of himself? “I can turn my back.”

  She spun, crossing her arms and staring into the darkness, her heart shriveling a little at th
e way he shut her out. She shouldn’t care. It was only sex, right? But she’d believed Black was letting her in, and in accepting that from him, she’d become vulnerable herself. Her head told her to let it go, but her heart wanted to cling to him, like she’d found a perfect mate in a man of a different … species? Was this even okay? He wasn’t human. Could something like this even work? Her vagina certainly seemed to think so. Stupid vagina.

  A warm hand captured her shoulder and tugged her around to face him. He was still a four-legged fiend, towering over her with that sexy, sweaty chest all glistening in the firelight. She licked her lips, her own chest tight with anxious thoughts. “I thought you were going to change—shift—whatever you call it?”

  Ribbons of dust and electricity surrounded her, stinging her eyes and prickling against her skin like lightning about to strike. She threw up a hand to shield herself. Through her teary vision, the shadow against the fire shrank from massive equine height to Black’s only slightly-less-massive human height. She rubbed her eyes with the backs of her wrists and found herself looking at a butt-naked Black, standing square before her, his eyes glittering in the firelight.

  The hardened shell she’d been building around her heart crumbled. He’d let her in after all. Shown her what he claimed he showed no one, not even his own kind. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry. She wanted to pound her fists against him with helpless abandon. Helpless because she’d never felt so close, so vulnerable to anyone in her life.

  Black turned away, his attention now on the injured foal. She let her gaze linger on his naked back. Caring for the helpless foal, he looked so sure, so powerful and confident, so beautiful all at once. She could almost convince herself the centaur had been a hallucination. How could it possibly be real? The only explanation was magic, and she’d never believed in magic. In fact, she’d rejected it, leaving it to her father’s ranting.

  Everything she knew about the world had just crashed into itself, leaving her reeling and confused.

  Renee moved toward the flames, thinking at least she might be able to lend a hand with the foal. The sound of hooves in the darkness once again drew her up short. The pounding stopped, and two shadowy figures emerged into the flickering firelight, a slightly older man with deep-set midnight eyes and tattoos down both arms, and Lori, her blonde hair mussed as if she’d just been on a joyride in a convertible. Both were stark naked.

  Renee’s gaze flicked between Black and the newcomers. Did this mean Lori was a centaur-shifter, too? How many of them were there?

  Black rose to face Lori. “I didn’t tell her.”

  The blonde smiled and shook her head, holding her hands up palm out as if to settle him. “Of course not, Black. But the cat’s out of the bag now, isn’t it?”

  He edged toward Renee, placing himself between her and the visitors. “Her granddad knew and kept our secret. Give her a chance.”

  Renee shook her head. “Grandfather knew? Is everybody on the ranch a centaur?”

  Lori let out a low chuckle, her too-perky breasts bobbing with the sound. “Of course not, honey. Only Black here is burdened with that deformity. The rest of us are purebreds through and through.”

  “Deformity?” Renee’s mind swam. “He looked rather magnificent to me.”

  “Never mind, Renee.” Black kept his eyes on Lori and the other man. “We can talk about all that later. Ivy-Jane’s hurt. I need to carry her back to the ranch where I can take care of her.”

  “Then go. Survival of the fittest, they say.” Lori’s gaze wasn’t on Black or the foal. It was on Renee.

  Ice crept up Renee’s spine.

  The strange man stepped gracefully into the circle of firelight. Something about him reminded her of Black. The light caught his eyes with a reflective glow that reinforced these people weren’t human. His voice was gruff, nostrils flaring. “I’ll carry the human for you, Black.”

  Behind him, a look of annoyance crossed Lori’s gaze. Then her smirk returned. “I knew I’d make a mount out of you, Saul. Go on, then.”

  Black’s jaw muscles visibly bunched in the firelight, and Renee flushed, remembering Lori’s offer to saddle a stallion this afternoon. “This is Saul? The stallion you didn’t want me to ride?”

  Casting an apologetic glance her way, Black said, “Saul’s my uncle. He’ll take care of you.”

  Renee raised her brows. “You didn’t seem to think so earlier.”

  “It’s different now,” Black said.

  “How?”

  Saul crossed his arms, orange flickers glinting off hard lines of muscles. The guy was built like a brick house. “Well, you smell like sex, for one. Sex with my nephew. I’m not going to touch that.”

  Horror filled Renee’s mind. First of all that she stank like sex. Second, that there seemed to be some sort of unspoken agenda among these horse people. Why had Lori offered to saddle Saul for her earlier? “Do I get a say in all this?”

  Lori pursed her lips in a coy sort of tease. “Unless you want to stay behind and face the lion on your own, honey, I suggest you ride whichever stallion is willing to get between your legs.

  Renee’s heart threatened to jump from her chest it was beating so hard. Lori put her nerves on edge. But then, riding a strange stallion shifter didn’t sound much better. What should she do? Their mounts had run away, and she had no idea how to get back on her own, let alone in the dark. “Can Ivy-Jane wait until morning?”

  Black shook his head. “She needs medical attention.”

  A glance at the foal told Renee it was true. The baby horse’s dun-colored flanks were shivering in spite of the warm night and the heat from the fire. Renee took a deep breath. “All right, Saul. Show me what you’ve got.”

  HAPTER EIGHT

  After setting Renee down just outside the barn, the shifters had almost seemed to forget about her as they hurried to tend the foal. She’d slipped away to her room to find some time to think, away from mountain lion screams, thundering hooves, and magical creatures beyond any girl’s wildest dreams for a pony. Now in the early morning light, Renee stumbled out of the house with a travel-mug of coffee in one hand and her phone in the other. Her inner thighs ached from the unaccustomed riding yesterday—both kinds. The yard was quiet this morning, the tension from the previous night dampened by the dewy air.

  Gravel crunching loud beneath her borrowed boots, she approached the barn. A quaking desire to see Black twisted her stomach, and not just to have her questions answered. She was afraid of him, but not for the reasons others might think. Centaurs and shape shifters? Those were cool. Her fear went deeper. Black had touched something inside her. He didn’t play games like the men she met with Steph, and he seemed to understand what losing her grandfather meant to her. She’d even flirted with the idea what they had was something unique. Love was one thrill she’d avoided with a passion, and yet here she was, facing a fall if she took a single step forward.

  But Black was a mythical creature. Did he even think like a human? She’d tried to Google information on centaurs and shape shifters, but cell service was spotty at the ranch and she couldn’t get many web pages to load. Grandfather apparently hadn’t owned a computer, let alone wi-fi.

  Black seemed to think he was some sort of deformed monster. All Renee could see was a man with a superpower he used to protect her and a baby horse from an awful predator. The connection they’d shared last night lingered in her blood like a drug. Her inner thighs tingled with memory, the bones down there aching from more than the extended horseback ride. I want to ride a cowboy…

  She froze in front of the open bay door, steam from her coffee hitting her face like a wake up call. She obviously needed some space or else she might just let her hormones forget all the craziness from last night. If she went to town, she could find a coffee shop with wi-fi and do a little research. Think this through before she got any deeper.

  Turning, she stared at the empty gravel parking area between the house and the barn. Steph had taken the rental when
she’d left. Renee hadn’t worried then, figuring Black or someone could get her to Missoula to catch a flight home. Now she was stranded here alone, surrounded by who-knew how many shapeshifters, with no transportation of her own.

  Her gaze drifted to a smaller building she remembered as a machine shed from her younger days. Grandfather kept a tractor in there for hauling hay and raking pasture. You going to drive a tractor to town? She smirked at the idea. But maybe he had a car or something in there to haul supplies from town.

  She shoved against the side door to get it open and entered. The dark building smelled of stale oil, metal filings, and dust. She left the door ajar to let in light and moved past an ancient John Deere tractor and a well-ordered workbench. In the far bay sat a beat-up Chevy pickup with the keys in the ignition. Score.

  Setting her coffee on the hood, Renee wrestled with the garage door, realized it was latched, and finally got it open. Morning air rushed in like the building had been holding its breath. She took a deep taste, savoring the sunlight painting the far-away tops of trees and the faint singing of birds. In spite of the excitement from last night, this place felt peaceful. Protected. Special. She could see making a home here. Maybe with Black.

  “You’re up early.” Lori’s voice startled her from the barn’s side door. Her bling was back in place, right down to the Montana belt buckle covering most of her flat stomach.

  The icy shiver Renee’d felt last night returned to the base of her spine. “So are you.”

  Lori sauntered over, coming to rest at the open garage door and leaning one shoulder against the frame. She crossed one boot over the other, thumbs hooked into her belt. Her gaze reminded Renee of a housecat watching a bird. That makes me the bird…

  After a heartbeat of uncomfortable silence, Renee asked, “How’s Ivy-Jane?”

  Lori waved a manicured hand. “Black has it under control. He has the touch. But then, you already know that.”