Page 47 of Her Possessive Minotaurs

Blood drips from the dark elf as we walk, potentially attracting other beasts, but I don’t care. What matters is he’s not dead and can tell him what’s going on. Right now, I’m so on edge, I’ll just smash anyone standing in my way.

The journey back is slow, each step heightening the urgency of the situation. Eryndor won’t stop until he has Laia back, but why? What is he planning? Didn’t he have enough of her?

When I finally reach our new lair, Laia is waiting at the entrance. Her eyes widen in fear as she sees the bloodied elf in my grip. "Thalos,” she whispers, her voice trembling.

“Inside,” I order, my tone leaving no room for argument.

She steps aside as I drag the dark elf into our lair, his feet scraping against the ground. Laia follows hesitantly, her gaze darting between me and our prisoner.

“We need answers,” I say tersely, dumping the elf onto the floor with a thud. He groans again, trying to push himself up but failing miserably. He crawls, trying to get away, but I slam my boot onto his foot.

The sound of bone breaking echoes in the lair, the dark elf screaming in pain.

Laia’s eyes are wide with terror. Is she scared of me?

“Why won’t Eryndor let you go?” I ask her directly, though my eyes never leave the elf’s prone form.

She shakes her head slowly. “I don’t know. He’s crazy. Eryndor liked to break me. For some unknown reason, I became the subject of his torture. They call me his ‘favorite’.”

Laia shives as she states this, her eyes looking distant. I grab her hand, bringing it to my lips as I apologize, “I’m sorry for making you remember all the bad memories.”

She smiles at me, and my heart softens even more. “I understand.”

“We’ll make him talk,” I promise. “He’ll tell us what he knows about Ernydor.”

“He probably doesn’t know anything,” Laia sighs.

“It doesn’t matter. They’ll all die anyway.” Irix joins us, his eyes gleaming with dark intent.

Laia steps back, her heart pounding as Irix picks up a hammer.

“You don’t need to see this,” Irix growls as he steps toward the prisoner.

Before Laia can protest, I gently but firmly steer her away, my voice low and commanding. “Go with Kael. We’ll handle this.”

She hesitates for a moment, her eyes wide with fear and uncertainty, but she obeys, casting one last worried glance at us before following Kael out of the room. I frown; sometimes her heart can be too soft.

Irix’s interrogation is brutal. The sounds of the dark elf’s screams echo through the basement of the lair, each cry a testament to the pain inflicted.

“I don’t know anything; forgive me!” he croaks, but I don’t let up. I grab the bat from the side and smash it onto his legs. “No! No! I don’t know anything about Eryndor and the woman. I swear?—”

“Tell us about your group,” Irix cuts him off. The dark elf nodded, ready to spill everything.

When Irix and I emerge, our expressions are grim. “There’s a camp,” I say to Kael, my voice tight. “Not far from here. They’re looking for Laia.”

“We’re taking the fight to them,” Irix declares.

__________

34

LAIA

Ipace the lair, my heart thudding in my chest. Thalos and Irix move with deadly efficiency, gathering weapons and armor as if they’ve done this a thousand times before. The air is thick with tension, each clink of metal and rustle of leather amplifying my growing anxiety.

Kael stands beside me, his presence a quiet comfort. His eyes follow his brothers’ movements, but he remains still, ready to act when needed. The waiting gnaws at me, each second stretching into an eternity.

“Where are you guys going? What’s happening?” I finally ask, my voice tight with worry. I need to know. I can’t stand this uncertainty any longer.

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