Page 24 of Kept By Her Obsessed Minotaurs

I fight like a cornered animal, my nails clawing and my feet kicking. I land a solid blow to one man’s groin, sending him to his knees. Another grabs me from behind, his arms locking around my torso. I thrash wildly, my elbow connecting with his nose in a sickening crunch. But the third man tackles me, slamming me to the ground. Dirt fills my mouth as I struggle beneath his weight.

A shadow suddenly looms over us, and a low, guttural growl reverberates through the alley. The men freeze, their heads snapping toward the sound. Garron steps closer, his massive frame filling the space. His eyes are dark, his expression murderous. His heavy boots crunch against the cobblestone as he strides forward.

“Get your hands off her,” he growls, his voice low and deadly.

The first man barely has time to react before Garron’s fist connects with his skull. The crunch of bone echoes through the alleyway as blood splatters across the wall. The second man lunges at him, but Garron grabs him by the throat, lifting him off the ground with terrifying ease. The man’s legs kick wildly before Garron slams him into the ground, leaving him motionless.

I stare,frozen in shock, as Garron dispatches the third man with a brutal swing of his axe. The blade arcs through the air, cutting cleanly through flesh and bone.

“Get up,” Garron snarls, not sparing me a glance as he wipes the blood from his axe. “We’re leaving.”

My legs shake as I scramble to my feet, following him out of the alleyway. Just as we step into the main street, a low, melodic voice cuts through the silence.

“Going somewhere?”

Garron stops abruptly, his body tense. Dark elves emerge from the shadows, their eyes glowing faintly in the moonlight. Their weapons glint ominously, curved blades and longbows at the ready. My chest tightens as we’re surrounded. Garron’s hand tightens on his axe, his knuckles turning white.

The leader of the dark elves steps forward, his smirk a stark contrast to the fear he instills in my heart. He’s tall and slender, with sharp features that speak of a cruel elegance. His armor is a sleek, dark material that absorbs the moonlight, making him appear almost ethereal.

“You didn’t really think you could escape, did you?” he croons, his gaze sweeping over me with a predatory hunger.

Garron positions himself between me and the dark elves, his posture radiating defiance. “You’ll have to go through me,” he rumbles, his voice a low threat.

21

GARRON

Ipush Mara behind me as the dark elves circle like wolves scenting blood. Their leader, a tall, elegant figure with obsidian hair, steps closer, his fingers caressing the hilt of his slender sword.

"Give us the human," he demands, his voice smooth as silk. "And we might let you live."

My hand tightens on my axe. The weight of the weapon is comforting, a deadly extension of my will. "Over my dead body," I growl, my gaze locked onto the leader.

"So be it," the elf replies, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement. He lunges first, a test of my reflexes, but I'm ready for him.

Our blades clash, the impact jarring up my arm. The sound of steel against steel rings out through the street. The dark elf is fast, but I'm stronger, and I force him back with a powerful swing of my axe.

Mara is a liability—a weakness that could get us all killed—but I refuse to let them take her. My instincts scream at me to protect her, to keep her safe. I can't shake the feeling that there's more to her than deceit and cunning.

As I parry a series of quick jabs from another elf, I glance back at Mara. She's huddled against the wall of a nearby building, her eyes wide with fear but also a spark of defiance. "Stay behind me," I tell her, my voice low but firm. "Try not to get in the way."

She glares at me, but there's a grudging respect in her eyes. "I'm not helpless," she snaps, though her voice trembles slightly.

"Didn't say you were," I reply, driving my axe into an elf who gets too close. His scream is cut short as he falls to the ground, blood pooling around him. "But you're not a fighter either."

I can sense more dark elves approaching, their footsteps a whisper on the cobblestones. The odds are not in our favor, but I've faced worse.

The leader lunges again, his blade aimed for my throat. I sidestep just in time, bringing my axe down in a diagonal slash that cuts across his chest. He stumbles back with a grunt of pain, but his comrades surge forward to take his place.

I swing my axe in wide, arcing strikes, forcing them back. For every step they take toward Mara, I take two toward them. I'm a wall of muscle and fury, and I will not be moved.

But where the hell are Lazir and Calo? We need their strength, their numbers. We're stronger together. I can only hope they're safe, that they hear the commotion and are on their way.

"You can't keep this up forever," the dark elf leader sneers. "Surrender now, and we'll make your death quick."

"Not interested," I retort, feinting left before driving my shoulder into another elf, sending him sprawling.

The fight rages on, each moment stretching into an eternity. I can feel my muscles burning with exertion, my breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps. But I don't let up, not even for a second. Every time one of them falls, another takes his place. It's like trying to fight back the tide with a single sword.

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