Page 4 of The Minotaur's Milkmaid
Flames are licking at the rooftop of the barn, lighting the entire village in orange. My chest tightens, and I stumble back from the window, feeling dizzy and unable to catch my breath.
“Maeve! You must get up! Make haste!” Beatrice’s voice slices through my panic. She rushes toward the door, and I follow after her, but my feet feel like they’re stuck in molasses, each step too heavy to lift. The cottage is filling with thick, black smoke, and the ground seems to shake beneath my bare feet.
The front door suddenly crashes open, exploding in wooden splinters. Beatrice screams, and I freeze.
A Minotaur towers in the doorway, and my breath hitches as I take in his massive size. He has to be twice the height of a human man, and his tall horns, thick and curved, make my stomach flip in terror. He isn’t like anything I’ve ever seen before.
He lunges toward me, and I don’t even have time to react before his large, rough hand closes around my wrist with a force that makes my bones ache. I scream, fear flooding through me. “No, no!” I cry, trying to pull away, but his grip is like iron.
I can’t breathe, can't think. His touch is hot, almost burning, and I feel a strange, terrible heat spreading through my body.His other hand brushes over my arm, and I shiver, goosebumps rising despite the terror clawing at my throat.
“Please,” I beg as I struggle against him, unable to break out of his grasp.
Beatrice’s frantic cries fade from somewhere behind me, and before I know it, the Minotaur has dragged me out of the burning cottage. The entire village is in flames, and everywhere I look, people are screaming and running. The men are being tied up and thrown to the ground, discarded. I catch a glimpse of Jacob among them; his face pale, and his hands bound behind his back. I scream his name, but the Minotaur is pulling me away, forcing me toward their cavalry.
Massive wagons are waiting. The other Hucows were already being loaded onto the carts, their hands tied tightly, faces filled with terror. We’re nothing more than livestock to these creatures.
The Minotaur holding me doesn’t speak as he keeps dragging me toward one of the wagons. My heart thuds painfully in my chest, and I can’t catch my breath; my mind is spinning in a haze of fear. Why are they doing this? Where are they taking us?
I try to twist out of his grasp, screaming at him, but the Minotaur’s grip tightens painfully, and I have no strength left to fight. I don’t want to go. I don’t want this. But there’s nothing I can do. I’m being taken, just like the others.
My body is trembling, my breath coming in ragged sobs as we near the wagon. I want to keep fighting, to run, to somehow escape, but I know it’s hopeless.
What will they do to us?
He’s dragging me toward something I can’t even begin to imagine, away from the safety of my home, away from everything I know. The other Hucows are already loaded onto the wagon, and the Minotaur is leading me to join them. I closemy eyes tightly, and I can’t stop the rising sense of dread that bubbles in my stomach.
I’m suddenly yanked to a stop, my body jolting backward so forcefully that I nearly fall. A startled cry escapes my lips as I twist around, my wrist still caught in his bruising grip. Something has changed. His hold loosens, his posture stiffens, and then I seehim.
The towering figure before me is unlike any of the others. He’s massive, even for a Minotaur, his sheer size overwhelming. The firelight from my burning village flickers over his dark, battle-scarred hide. His sharp, black horns curve high, framing a face both terrifying and…striking. His features are a strong. A broad jaw, a defined, straight nose, and full lips that are curled into a cruel smirk. His eyes, glowing a molten gold, lock onto mine, and my stomach twists at the intensity of his gaze.
“This one is mine,” he rumbles, his voice deep like an avalanche rolling down a mountainside.
The Minotaur who has me in his grip stops, dipping his head in obedience to this new male. “Dakar,” he greets, handing me over. The Warlord’s massive hand encircles my wrist.
His grip isn’t as painful, but it’s still unbreakable.
I make a fast, panicked little gasp as I stare up at him, my heart hammering so hard it shakes my ribs. I know I should be terrified, and Iam.He’s a warlord, a raider, a monster who has just claimed me like a prize. But something terrifyingly unfamiliar stirs inside me, making my pulse race even faster, a strange kind of heat.
He’s…fearsome.
Nothing like the boys from my village, with their soft faces and kind smiles. He’s raw power, his presence swallowing everything around him, and my body reacts before my mind can stop it. A warmth pools low in my belly, shocking me. It’s shameful and unwanted. I don’t understand it; why the deep timbre of hisvoice sends a shiver down my spine, why the rough warmth of his palm against my skin makes the air leave my lungs.
I push the thoughts away, my senses snapping back to my reality. It doesn’t matter what he looks like. It doesn’t matter that his presence makes me feel a way I don’t understand. He’s kidnapping me.
I yank at my wrist, trying to break free. “P-please,” I whisper, my voice barely above a breath. “I don’t—”
His fingers tighten, just enough to still my trembling, but not enough to hurt. His molten gaze doesn’t waver.
“You belong to me now, little one,” he murmurs, his voice firm.
A shudder runs through me, but it isn’t just from fear. My traitorous body betrays me, reacting to his touch, his dominance, in a way that makes my cheeks burn with shame. The words feel like a sentence, sealing my fate. I have no choice. And worse…some small, terrifying part of me doesn’t want to resist.
Chapter Five
The Grasslands
Dakar The Savage
