Page 1 of My Fated Minotaur Hero

CHAPTER 1

OLIVIA

What is that glow?

I blink, my eyes adjusting to the dim light of the sub-basement. The mysterious glow flickers once more, then vanishes. My heart races, a mix of excitement and trepidation coursing through me.

For a split-second I am almost overwhelmed by the desire to plunge ahead, danger be damned.

This is it Liv! Your big adventure awaits!

But just as quickly as the thought forms, my rational mind kicks in.

Um, hello. You’re in a dusty basement.

I shake my head, trying to clear the fog of ... whatever that was. What am I doing down here? I have a system, a plan. The sub-basement isn't scheduled for cataloging until next month.

"Get it together, Olivia," I mutter to myself, gripping the railing. "You're letting your imagination run wild again."

Too much time alone with the archives.

I turn to head back upstairs, but pause. That pull, that inexplicable urge to explore, it's still there. Tugging at me.

No. Absolutely not.

I have a routine for a reason. Structure keeps me sane, keeps me in control. I'm not Zoe, gallivanting off on some impromptu vacation. I'm dependable, organized Olivia. The one who catalogs the chaos.

With a sigh that's equal parts relief and regret, I climb back up the stairs. The main floor of Winthrop House welcomes me with its familiar, musty scent of old books and polished wood. I breathe it in, feeling my nerves settle.

Right.I look around.Once we get this place organized, and into exhibits, it is going to be an amazing museum.It’s only fitting, since Zoe’s Great Aunt Charlotte was an amazing woman. All the treasures she accumulated through her many adventures so long ago will have a fitting home.

"There you are!" Amanda's voice cuts through my thoughts. She's standing by my desk, perfect eyebrows raised in a mix of concern and amusement. She's the picture of poise in her tailored blazer and stilettos. I suddenly feel very aware of my own rumpled cardigan and sensible flats.

"I was beginning to think the ghost of Charlotte Winthrop had kidnapped you or something."

I force a laugh, hoping it doesn't sound as awkward as it feels. "No ghosts, just got a bit ... distracted." I gesture vaguely towards the basement door. "Thought I heard something, but it was nothing."

Amanda nods, though I can tell she's not entirely convinced. "Right. Well, I'm heading out. You coming?"

"Oh, um..." I glance at my watch, remembering how late it's gotten. "Actually, I think I'll stay a bit longer. Just want to finish up a few things."

"Olivia," Amanda says, her tone gently chiding. "You work too hard. Come on, let's grab a drink. It's been ages since you’ve come out for a girls' night."

The thought of a crowded bar, all those people, all that small talk ... I can feel my anxiety spiking already. "Thanks, but I really should—"

"Should what? Color code your sock drawer?" Amanda teases. "Live a little! Who knows, we might even find you a nice guy to chat up."

I snort before I can stop myself. "Right, because I have so much in common with the type of guys who hang out in bars."

Amanda's expression softens. "You never know. There could be a nerdy Prince Charming just waiting to discuss ... I don't know, the Dewey Decimal System with you."

"I prefer Library of Congress Classification, actually," I mutter.

Amanda laughs. "See? You're hilarious when you loosen up a bit. Are you sure?

Just then, the front door chimes. We both turn to see a whirlwind of colorful scarves and jangling bracelets burst into the room. It's Mia, Zoe's free-spirited friend.

"Hey guys! Any word from our AWOL historian? It’s so weird. She’s not even answering texts."

---