Page 31 of Bound to the Minotaur
I forgot to breathe.
The black strands of his hair curled damp against his temples, and when he looked up—those rich brown eyes locking with mine across the yard—I felt every inch of the heat and devotion that had pulled me into his orbit from the start. He raised a hand, a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. My chest swelled. This was home. This was love. And I was ready to run to him every time.
He came up the back porch steps slow and sure, eyes locked on mine, and I knew. I saw it written there, in the way his jaw flexed, in the burn of his gaze, in the deliberate way his boot hit each board, like he was sealing some silent vow.
It was time. Finally, just like I’d been hoping every day for weeks. My cup slipped from my fingers. I barely noticed the clatter or the cold coffee splattering across the worn planks. My feet were already moving.
Gregory stepped forward and dipped into a low, theatrical bow, one hand extended, the other pressed to his chest. His eyes smoldered beneath dark lashes, his mouth twisted into something between a taunt and a promise. A challenge.
My breath caught. Heat surged through me, delicious and wild. I darted forward and ducked beneath his outstretched arm, alaugh escaping my lips. Barefoot, heart pounding, I sprinted toward the open wrought-iron gate that led into the maze.
Behind me, I heard him chuckle, deep and low, like thunder cracking in a summer sky. Then silence—there was a silence as telling as the laughter before. The sound of shifting, or not-sound, as was the case. Magic shimmered like heat off stone. Light flared. My heart leaped into my throat in excitement. Gregory had told me what this meant, this ritual, unique to his species. That the dreams had foretold all along that I’d be his, and his alone. I couldn’t wait.
The ground trembled with the first crash of hooves. I laughed, breathless, slipping into the maze, weaving through corridors of rusted metal and blooming ivy. Moss kissed my toes. The air smelled of earth and cedar and something older—something hungry. I wasn’t once scared of getting lost inside this warren of strange, ever-shifting, bizarre paths, twisting and turning, with cars rising from the green, stacked together like ghost ships in a fog. Nothing here would hurt me. Certainly not him.
Gregory thundered after me—the minotaur, my beast, my soulmate. He chased me through the winding heart of the maze, hooves pounding a wild rhythm, his growls low and delicious. I spun around corners, ducked under leaning car doors, and slipped over stone pathways slick with dew. He was always just behind me, close enough for me to feel the heat of his breath, the brush of his shadow.
And he was herding me, guiding me, steering me to the center.
The moment I stepped into the clearing, I knew. Soft moss carpeted the center of the maze, ringed with wildflowers and thetwisted, living metal of the labyrinth. It felt sacred, hidden from the world. Timeless.
I turned, and he was there.
Gregory caught me around the waist and lifted me from the ground, spinning us both until we tumbled to the earth. I landed on soft, green grass, his massive body curled around me, horns glinting in the sunlight.
In a flash of golden light, he shifted.
Skin replaced fur, his horns vanished, and in their place was the man I loved, kneeling over me, chest rising and falling, eyes burning. “You’re mine now,” he said, voice low, reverent. He leaned closer, breath brushing my lips. “Forever. Soulmate.”
I reached up, curled my fingers behind his neck, and pulled him down into a kiss that swallowed us both. It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was fire meeting fire, the crashing of oceans, the surrender of night to dawn. Our mouths met with hunger, with need, with a promise long made and finally fulfilled. Tongues tangling, twisting, twining, much like the maze tangled and twisted around us.
His hands slid over my sides, finding the curve of my hips and the line of my thigh. I arched into him, my body answering with instinct deeper than memory. Clothes disappeared between touches, the maze around us humming with the power of our union. I felt every rough callus on his fingers as he blazed paths along my skin, reverent strokes, rough with need and impatience.
His hands were on my hips, yanking me into position; rough at the nape of my neck as he pinned me. I was on my hands and knees, vulnerable, exposed. It was raw and primal. That hand pushed until my front lowered and my bare breasts, tips aching, pressed against the cool, dewy moss.
The brush of his thighs against the back of my legs, still covered with his jeans, was electrifying. It was scintillating to know how much power he had, how strong he was. His free hand found my folds—wet and aching for him—fingers brushing my clit until I screamed in pleasure, then testing my core with a rough stroke that only whetted my appetite. When he entered me, it was with a gasp and a groan, our bodies finally, truly one, his cock stretching me wide, finally filling me. Making us one.
We moved together in rhythm with the earth, with the wind, with something ancient and fierce that lived in the bones of this place. His thrusts were rough, erratic, and so deep I knew he’d never leave me, I’d never get him out. They tangled us together in more ways than just physically.
Gregory. Mine.
He worshipped every inch of me, his mouth trailing fire over my skin, his hands reverent. And when I came undone beneath him, I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t hiding. I was home. He followed, his roar echoing into the sky, a promise etched in every breath.
Forever.
Epilogue
Gregory
A minotaur didn’t think about things like weddings and churches, or wedding rings and flower girls. All we knew was the chase, the maze, the mating. For weeks—months—that need had been thrumming through my veins. Kess might have had the dreams, but that didn’t mean it had been easy for me to wait. I’d worked as hard as I could to restore my maze so it would be just right—perfect—for our mating.
But after the danger she’d been in, there was only so long I could force myself to stay away from her side before I had to return. I knew—I could sense—that she was safe, and yet… nothing eased the worry in my gut until I held her in my arms.
Rolling us gently, I sighed with pleasure as she settled into a deeper slumber across my chest. The heat of my body was keeping her warm, and the maze was keeping us lovingly sheltered in its embrace. Protecting us, exactly as it was designed to do.
Above my head, the stars shimmered and sparkled as darkness fell in earnest. The moon, full and bright, tempted the local wolf pack into a howl. Their voices were fewer than they used to be—just a handful now—but they were strong and bright. I could pick out Kai, Ted, Grandma Liz, two more male voices that must be drifters passing through, outcasts or loners, and one brighter than the others: Lizzie’s niece.
Up on the hill across town, I could see the flickering fire of Arden—our troll, and a hermit as much as I was—used to be. Thehedges of the maze obscured the line of sight to the town itself, but I knew Luther’s light would still be on, while Mikael would have closed his diner by now.
