Page 40 of Her Possessive Minotaurs

Please come for me, my minotaurs. My mind drifts from Kael to Irix and to Thalos.

The orc is toying with me, letting me get up only to knock me down again. Each time I hit the ground, the pain intensifies. Blood drips from my lip, and my vision swims as I struggle to stay conscious. I can taste the metallic tang on my tongue, mingling with the dirt and sweat.

He looms over me, his shadow casting a menacing pall over the cave. His cruel smile widens as he raises his axe. “I think I’ll take your arm first,” he sneers, the words dripping with sadistic pleasure.

My heart almost jumps out of my ribcage, playing a wild drumbeat of terror. This is it. I’m going to die here, alone and defenseless. As the axe swings down, a flash of movement catches my eye.

Irix appears out of nowhere, his axe already in motion. The blade cleaves through the orc’s neck with a sickening crunch. Blood sprays across the cave walls as the orc’s body crumples to the ground, headless.

The relief is overwhelming, and I collapse back onto the cold ground, gasping for breath. Irix stands over me, his golden eyes fierce and protective. For a moment, we just stare at each other, the imporance of what almost happened hanging heavy in the air.

____________

29

IRIX

Istand over the fallen orc, chest heaving, blood dripping from a cut on my brow. The satisfaction of the kill courses through me, but my eyes lock onto Laia, crumpled and breathless. Relief floods me. She's alive.

“Had a feeling you might need me,” I say, grinning down at her.

Laia stares up at me, still catching her breath. "Irix,” she gasps, her voice trembling with both gratitude and disbelief.

I extend my hand, firm and steady. She grasps it, and I pull her to her feet. Her fingers are cold, trembling. The sight of her beaten form stirs something deep within me—an urge to protect, to keep her safe from the horrors that lurk outside.

“No time for thanks,” I say, my grin fading as I glance toward the entrance of the cave. “The orcs are closing in. We need to move.”

Her eyes widen in fear, but she nods, gripping my hand tighter. We don’t have a moment to lose.

Laia’s heart sinks. “What about Thalos and Kael?”

My eyes darken, but I force a smirk. “Tied up right now. So it’s my job to get you out of here.”

Before she can argue, the sound of orcish war cries fills the air. They’re here.

I grab my axe, my grin returning, albeit bloodier. “Stay behind me.”

We charge through the cave entrance, orcs swarming toward us like a tide. My axe becomes an extension of myself, slicing through flesh and bone with brutal efficiency. Blood splashes across my skin, but I don’t slow. Each swing is precise, and each kill necessary.

Laia follows close behind, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. She’s strong, but this isn’t her fight—it’s mine. How can her small body fight off an orc almost three times her size? Physical strength is never a human’s strength, whereas orcs draw on it.

A roar echoes in my ears as I cleave through another orc, their body crumpling to the ground in a heap of twisted limbs. The metallic tang of blood fills the air, mingling with the stench of sweat and fear.

But then—out of the corner of my eye—I see an orc sneaking up behind me, blade raised.

“Irix!” Laia screams, grabbing a broken weapon from the ground and hurling it.

The makeshift projectile flies true, striking the orc on a shoulder wound and causing it to stumble back with a pained grunt. I turn just in time to deliver a final blow, my axe splitting its skull with a sickening crunch.

I glance back at Laia, her chest heaving with exertion and fear. She’s pale but resolute, standing her ground despite the chaos around us.

“Nice throw,” I say, grinning at Laia, blood streaming down my face. Her eyes widen in surprise, and something like pride flickers across her features.

But then her smile fades, replaced by a look of sheer terror. I follow her gaze and see it—an arrow, already loosed, flying straight toward her.

My eyes widen. I move without thinking, every instinct screaming to protect her. I throw myself in front of her just as the arrow sinks into my shoulder. Pain explodes through me, white-hot and searing. I drop to my knees, gasping.

“Irix!” Laia rushes to my side, panic rising in her voice. Her hands flutter around me, unsure where to touch without causing more pain.

---