Page 2 of Her Possessive Minotaurs

I continue, and the forest thickens further, branches intertwining overhead like a cage of darkened bones. The path grows uneven, each step more treacherous than the last. I push forward, driven by the hope that somewhere ahead lies safety. I can barely see, but thanks to moonlight, it chases some of the shadows away.

A sharp pain shoots through my ankle as I trip over a root and fall hard onto the ground. For a moment, I lie there, gasping for breath and fighting back tears of frustration and the agonizing pain of my injuries worsening.

"No," I whisper to myself. "Not here."

Suddenly, the wind feels like Eryndor’s cold hands clamping down on my shoulders like iron. I shudder, feeling the phantom weight of his touch even now. The memory of his cruel smile, his voice dripping with malice as he whispered promises of pain, invades my mind. I try to shake it off, but the images flash violently before me—the broken bodies of my friends, their lifeless eyes staring at me, haunted and accusing.

"No," I murmur to myself. "Focus."

I crawl, trying to push myself up. I must run away if it’s the last thing I do.

"Get up," I whisper through gritted teeth. I would rather brave these treacherous woods than go back to Eryndor.

I scrambled back to my feet, blood smeared down my leg. Each step sends jolts of agony through my body, but I push on. The wilds felt like a suffocating embrace as I threaded deeper.

I can’t stop. Not now, not ever.

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2

THALOS

The forest is eerily silent, save for the heavy footfalls of my brothers and me as we hunt. My massive form cuts through the wilderness like a beast unleashed, every step calculated, every muscle coiled and ready. Irix moves beside me, his breathing steady but charged with anticipation. His hand grips the hilt of a broad-bladed axe, muscles twitching with eagerness.

"Stay sharp," I murmur.

"Always am," Irix replies, a feral grin splitting his face. He waves his ax as if imagining taking down his prey in front of him.

The smell of our prey—some wild beast—hangs in the air, thick and tantalizing. My nostrils flare, drinking it in, but there's something else. Something off.

Kael lingers behind us, quieter than usual. His sharp eyes scan the undergrowth. He draws in a long breath and stops abruptly.

"Thalos," he says, voice barely above a whisper. "Human blood."

I halt, my senses sharpening to a razor's edge. "Are you sure?"

He nods, eyes narrowing. "Fresh."

Irix growls low in his throat. "Lost traveler or a trap? Some of our enemies love using human baits. One can’t even fill my stomach; they’re too small for my taste."

"Only one way to find out." I motion for Kael to take point. He moves forward, every step silent and deliberate.

We follow him through the dense foliage, my mind racing with possibilities. Human blood in our territory? It could mean many things—none of them good.

As we move toward the smell of human blood, a sudden rustle catches my attention. I raise a hand, signaling a halt. My eyes narrow, scanning the shadows. “A prey is close,” I growl, voice low and measured.

Irix’s lips curl into a grin, eager for any challenge. “Let the beasts come. I’ve been itching for a fight.”

Kael frowns, glancing at Irix. “We should focus on the human first. The scent is strong; they’re wounded.”

Irix shrugs, his grin never faltering. “A hunt’s a hunt. Humans be damned. Besides, who gets the bigger prey wins tonight's spoils. I would love to take the bigger portion.”

I snort at their banter but keep my focus sharp. “Enough talk. We flank it. Kael to the left, Irix to the right. We’ll deal with the human later.”

Kael, with a solemn face, nodded, followed by grinning Irix.

With precision, we spread out, moving like shadows through the dense underbrush. Each step is deliberate, each breath controlled. The wilds are our domain, and we know every inch of it.

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