Page 20 of Bound to the Minotaur
Not yet.
I stopped and faced her, letting go of her hand only because I needed to keep mine still, and I feared I’d squeeze her fingers too hard. “What Liz said… about Hillcrest Hollow. It’s all true. This town—this valley—is a sanctuary for the supernatural. We don’t show ourselves unless we choose to. We blend in. Hide. But we’re here.”
Kess didn’t speak, her blue eyes wide behind her glasses, her breath puffing softly into the cold air. But she didn’t run.
I pressed on, voice low, my nerves a mess in a way they hadn’t been since I was a young bull. “I’m one of them, and I’ve lived here a long time. I… sense people in danger. Not everyone, not always. But when it happens, it hits like a pressure drop in the air, like the ground tugging at your feet. That night, when yourcar went off the road, I knew exactly where you were, even before you called. Ifeltyou.”
She tilted her head slightly, brows knitting. She wasn’t quite sure she believed me. “And when I checked your car… I already knew what I’d find.” A pulse of something sharp—fear, maybe—flashed across her face, then she shoved it down, pressing her lips into a flat line. Still listening. She feared what that tampered brake line meant more than what I was about to say; I could see that in her clear eyes.
I hesitated anyway. I’d never done this before, never spoken of this to anyone but those who already knew. The wind rustled the hedge behind us, and I breathed in deep, catching her scent beneath the chill: soft and human and warm. My instincts surged up, clawing, demanding I tell her everything.Show her.
“You already know,” I said, meeting her gaze. “What I am.” Her lips parted in surprise. “I think… some part of you knew from the moment you stepped into this place. You saw the signs. Maybe even dreamed them: the maze, the horns, the heat.” I hoped she’d dreamed of me and my maze, that
She blinked fast. Then she laughed—a breathy, almost disbelieving sound—and flapped her hand toward me. “I saw you last night.” I froze, my skin prickling along my spine and my forehead itching as the urge to shift intensified. My horns were pressing against my skin, ready to surge forward. She’d seen me? So I hadn’t been mistaken about that shadow by the window.
“Isawyou,” she repeated, more firmly now, fire rising behind her voice. “Don’t stand there and make me ask again. Show me.” She had hooked her fists on her hips, giving me a defiant,bold pose and a glare to go with it. I stared at her—the woman who had somehow made herself at home in my arms and in my goddamn soul—and I realized I was done hiding.
Even from her, especially from her.
Still, this wasn’t done lightly, even for one’s soulmate. Another truth I had to tell her, one that was less hard to accept once she’d accepted this: the beast in me.
With dry lips, I whispered huskily, “Remember, it’s still me, and I’d never hurt you. Never.” It was a vow, and one I hoped she believed with all my heart. The air between us felt electric, humming with something that had been waiting—aching—to be released. Kess didn’t flinch, didn’t turn away. Her chin lifted, eyes huge, breath quickening, but not in fear. She was ready. So I gave her what she asked for.
The shift began with a low crackle under my skin, like ice fracturing beneath pressure. Heat bloomed through my spine, then out, my body folding inward and expanding at once. My clothing dissolved, absorbed into the space between forms, as it always did; where, I couldn’t say. Some other plane that held the pieces of me I didn’t need until I did again.
Light exploded across my vision, so bright it painted the world white for a heartbeat. It rushed over me, through me, not gentle, but not cruel either. Pleasure braided with pain. A rebirth every time. I gritted my teeth through the edge of it, and then it was over.
And Iwas.
I stood taller now, hooves sunk into the cold earth, wide chest rising with steam curling from my nose in thick white plumes. Fur rippled dark and heavy over my form, my shoulders broadening, the power of the beast coiled beneath my skin like a slumbering storm. I shook out my horns, letting the ache of the transformation ebb, and then I looked at her.
Kess stood utterly still, her eyes locked on mine. No panic. No scream. Just… awe. Then, slowly—gods, so slowly—she lifted one hand, her fingers trembling. She placed it against my chest, her small palm pressed to my black fur, pale skin stark and beautiful against me. I could feel her heat there, feel her heart hammering like a drum, steadying as she held on.
“You’re magnificent,” she whispered.
I couldn’t breathe. The words hit deeper than she could know. My instincts surged; old, sacred things roaring to life within me.Mate. Hunt. Claim.The maze behind us pulsed, called to me. To us. The wind shifted. Her scent wrapped around me like a ribbon, soft and sure and so temptinglyhers.
I stepped closer, and she didn’t back away. Her pupils widened as I loomed over her, massive and aching, every muscle straining to hold back. I needed her running. I needed the chase, the ritual. She had no idea what she’d awakened in me, but shewould.
I lowered my head, breathing her in. Then I nudged her gently, my horns curling past her shoulders, her hair catching in the fur at my jaw. She stumbled back a step; I moved with her. Another step.
She laughed—breathless, startled, and thrilled. I was herding her toward the maze, toward our beginning.
Then—
A sound.
Sharp. Wrong.
It sliced through the trees behind us; quick and foreign. My ears snapped forward, muscles locking. Not animal. Not natural. The scent hadn’t reached me yet, but I felt it: the wrongness of it.
It came from behind us in the woods. I knew every sound these trees made and every step the animals in my territory took. This was different.
Kess stilled, eyes flicking to the tree line. “What was that?” I didn’t answer; I was already turning, chest heaving, instincts fracturing between the pull of the hunt and the threat lurking too close.
Whatever it was; it was coming.
It was coming forher, andshewas mine to protect. Nobody would take her from me; nobody would live to tell the tale. I’d make them learn from their mistake, chase them in ways I’d never chase my female.
