Page 12 of Bought by the Broken Beast
The sounds of the night close in around us—the chirp of insects, the hoot of a night bird, the distant howl of a worg. I sit with my back against a rock, my knife in my hand, my senses on high alert. I will not sleep. I will watch. I will protect.
Hours pass. The fire burns down to glowing embers. The human, Bella, finally succumbs to her exhaustion, her breathing evening out into the slow, steady rhythm of sleep. I watch her, a strange, unfamiliar ache in my chest. She is so small, utterly vulnerable, and yet she possesses a spirit as unyielding as any Vakkak warrior I have ever known.
The moon rises high, its silver light filtering through the canopy of leaves, dappling the ground around us. The river whispers its endless song. I must drift, my exhaustion finally claiming a small victory, because the next thing I know, the space beside me is empty.
I am on my feet in an instant, my heart a cold stone in my chest. Panic, an emotion I have not felt since the day of my trial, seizes me. Has she been taken? Has a predator crept into our camp while I failed my watch?
Suddenly, I hear it. A soft splash from the river.
I move through the trees like a shadow, my feet silent on the damp earth. I stop at the edge of the woods, hidden behind the thick trunk of a tiphe tree. And I see her.
She is in the river, the water a dark, shimmering silk around her. She has shed her drab, practical clothes and left them in a neat pile on a flat rock. The moonlight bathes her skin in a pale, ethereal glow. She is… different from the Minotaur females I have known, with their broad shoulders, thick hides, and powerful frames. She is all slender lines and gentle curves, her skin smooth and unblemished, her form delicate, breakable.
She dips her head back, her dark hair fanning out in the water around her like a silken halo. A small, contented sigh escapes her lips. In this moment, she is not a slave, not aconspirator, not a complication. She is just a woman, washing away the grime and fear of the past few days, finding a moment of peace in a world that offers none.
I should look away. My Vakkak honor, what is left of it, screams at me that this is a violation, an intrusion on a private moment. I am her protector, not a voyeur lurking in the shadows.
But I cannot move.
I am transfixed, caught in the grip of an emotion I cannot name. It is not just lust, though the sight of her, pale and luminous in the moonlight, stirs a primal heat in my blood that I have long thought dead. It is something more. Awe. Awe at her fragility, at her resilience, at the simple, breathtaking beauty of her form. She is everything a Minotaur is not. And in that moment, I want her with a ferocity that terrifies me.
I am a monster, a disgraced beast of the arena. And she is… this. This quiet, impossible creature of moonlight and water. The chasm between us is as vast and as deep as the sea. To even think of her in this way is a betrayal of my duty to protect her.
I finally force myself to turn away, my heart hammering against my ribs, my breath catching in my throat. I stalk back to the dying embers of our fire, my mind a war of honor against instinct, of duty against a dark, consuming desire. I am trapped, not by our enemies, but by the wilderness, by the night, and by the impossible, terrifying beauty of the human woman bathing in the river.
10
BELLA
Iwake to the chilling embrace of a cold dawn and an even colder silence. The fire is a pile of grey ash. The space beside it, where the massive, solid presence of Votoi had been a bulwark against the night, is empty.
He’s gone. I took a bath last night, and he was still here when I came back. He left me.
The thought is a block of ice in my gut. Panic, raw and absolute, claws its way up my throat. My eyes dart around the small clearing, searching the deep shadows of the woods, the misty surface of the river. Nothing. The only sounds are the whisper of the water and the frantic, terrified drumming of my own heart.
This isn't the calculated fear of a scribe who has uncovered a conspiracy. This is something else entirely. Something illogical and primal. It’s the sharp, aching terror of being utterly, completely alone. I spent the night watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, listening to the low rumble of his breathing, and somewhere in those dark, quiet hours, a dangerous and foolish thing happened. I began to feel safe. I began to trust him.
And he left me.
A strangled sob escapes my lips, a sound of pure, childish despair. I am a fool. A fool to think a blood oath meant anything to a creature of such brutal pride. A fool to think I was anything more than a temporary inconvenience, a means to an end he has now abandoned.
Just as the first tears of rage and self-pity begin to burn my eyes, a shadow detaches itself from the trees. Votoi emerges into the clearing, his movements silent, fluid. He carries two suru, their limp bodies dangling from his massive fist.
The relief that floods through me is so potent, so overwhelming, it leaves me breathless. It’s a tidal wave of emotion that is immediately followed by a hot, furious undertow of anger. How dare he frighten me like this? How dare he make me feel that… that desperate, aching loss?
“Where were you?” The words fly from my mouth, sharp and accusatory, before I can stop them.
He stops, his amber eyes narrowing at my tone. He holds up the suru as if the answer is obvious. “Hunting. We need to eat.”
“You could have woken me,” I snap, scrambling to my feet, my voice trembling with the force of my suppressed panic. “You could have said something. I thought…” I trail off, unwilling to admit the truth.I thought you had left me to die.
A low growl rumbles in his chest. “I do not need your permission to hunt, human. I am your protector, not your pet. It is my duty to provide, to scout, to ensure the perimeter is secure. A duty I performed while you slept.”
His words are logical. Practical. And they feel like a slap. He sees this as a transaction, a fulfillment of his contract. He cannot possibly understand the raw, human terror of abandonment.
“I am not a liability to be managed,” I say, my voice rising. “I am your partner in this. You will not treat me like a piece of cargo to be guarded!”
“You are acting like a frightened child,” he snarls, taking a step toward me, his patience clearly gone.
