Page 3 of Her Possessive Minotaurs

Kael moves to the left, silent and methodical, his bag ready with his healing herbs and tools—just in case. Irix takes the right flank, axe at the ready, muscles taut with anticipation.

A rustling in the distance snaps our attention forward. I signal for silence with a raised fist. My deep voice rumbles through the stillness, “Here it comes. Ready…"

Irix's eyes gleam with excitement, asking in a playful tone, "Ready to see who gets the prize?"

"Focus," I command, though a hint of amusement tugs at my lips.

The underbrush parts ahead of us as something massive moves through it. The air grows thick with tension, each heartbeat echoing like thunder in my ears.

Kael crouches low, eyes darting between us and the approaching beast. "Stay alert."

"I am," Irix mutters back, grip tightening on his weapon.

Every muscle in my body coils like a spring, ready to release as we prepare to face whatever comes our way.

And then it breaks through the foliage—a hulking shadow moving with deadly grace. Its horn is sharp, pointing at us as if it anticipated their presence.

"Now," I whisper, and we move as one.

The forest explodes into violence as the beast lunges at us. Its eyes blaze with fury, and its claws tear through the air, aiming for our throats. It whips its head toward us. But Irix is quicker.

With a roar, he swings his axe, the blade slicing through the creature’s side with a brutal swipe. Blood sprays, painting the leaves crimson.

Irix grins, teeth bared in savage delight. "Not so tough now, are you?"

The beast howls in pain but isn’t finished yet. It swipes at Irix, claws grazing his arm, but he doesn’t flinch. Instead, he twists away, readying for another strike.

Kael moves in silently from the side, his own axe glinting in the dappled light. He’s always been the quiet one, but in battle, he’s as deadly as any of us. His movements are precise and calculated. He waits for the perfect moment, then drives his axe into the beast’s neck with a swift, deadly strike.

The creature staggers, blood gushing from its wounds. Kael pulls his axe free and steps back, giving Irix room to deliver the final blow.

Irix doesn’t hesitate. He brings his axe down with a powerful swing that cleaves through bone and sinew. The beast collapses with a final gurgle, its lifeblood soaking into the forest floor.

I stand back, watching with satisfaction as my brothers finish the kill. They work well together—Kael’s precision balancing Irix’s brute force. It’s a dance they’ve perfected over countless battles. I didn’t even have to lift a finger. Seeing them grow to be fine warriors brings me much joy. After all, we only have each other.

"Good work," I say as they step away from the carcass.

Irix wipes his axe on the grass and grins at me. "Told you I’d get it."

Kael merely nods, already turning his attention back to our surroundings. Ever vigilant.

"Stay sharp. Now, let’s deal with the human," I murmur again, more to myself than to them.

I take a deep breath, trying to pinpoint the source of the human blood smell. Where is it coming from?

The forest is quiet now, save for the distant rustle of leaves and the occasional bird call. But beneath it all is that unmistakable scent—faint but persistent.

I narrow my eyes, scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. We came here for a hunt, but it seems we’ve stumbled onto something far more complicated.

And I intend to find out what it is.

3

LAIA

Twigs snap beneath my bare feet, each step a knife slicing through my soles. My lungs burn, every breath a ragged plea for mercy. I’ve been running for hours, maybe days—time blurs into one endless nightmare. The forest swallows me whole, its dense foliage a maze of shadows and whispers.

I don’t feelhungry nor thirsty as I focus on survival. The only thought in my mind is to run further to keep more distance between Eryndor’s estate and me.

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