Page 21 of Bound to the Minotaur
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Kess
I thought I’d imagined it at first: the shift in the air, like thunder holding its breath. Then Gregory’s body started to ripple—no, unravel—and light poured from his skin.
Not harsh light, but something golden, sacred. He looked like a falling star, breaking through reality itself. I couldn’t see where his human edges ended and the rest of him began. It was like staring into a double exposure: both versions of him overlaid, bones and soul and muscle and myth.
I gasped, not in fear but in awe. For a heartbeat, I felt as if I were seeing into the very core of him, like his soul was wide open and unguarded; somehow reaching for me. As if part of me wanted to reach out and mesh with all of that, a perfect fit.
Then the light faded, and Gregory was gone. In his place stood something massive. Magnificent. A Minotaur. Just like I’d dreamed, just like we’d been hinting at, until speaking it out loud this morning. A creature of myth, alive, in the flesh. Real as can be.
Black fur shimmered over slabs of thick muscle, his arms corded and long, his legs ending in gleaming hooves planted firmly into the forest floor. Horns curved from either side of his head, ancient and regal, their tips sharp enough to pierce dreams. His breath came out in plumes, the cold catching on the heat of him. But it was his eyes that stole my breath—the same warm, annoyed amber I’d grown used to, full of knowing, warning, and want.
“Gregory,” I whispered. I didn’t remember moving, but suddenly my hand was on him, fingers buried in his fur. The texturecoarse and warm and somehow alive with energy. He washuge. Towering over me, dense and dangerous, and mine.
The moment thickened, gravity pulling us together, and then he moved. His massive head dipped, one horn brushing past my shoulder, and I gasped as he nudged me: firmly, insistently. I took a step back, and he followed, close. He was herding me, dancing with me. His wide body blocked out the forest behind us, shadowing me with himself. Every step, every breath was a demand. My heart pounded, my thighs clenched. I was burning.
The maze loomed behind me now, tall and overgrown, its walls built from nature and time and something far older. Vines curled like veins across the stones, and beyond the narrow entrance, a darkness waited; not empty, but expectant. I knew, without being told, that if I stepped inside, nothing would ever be the same again.
Gregory’s heat pressed against me, and I only yearned to burrow closer, to step into that warmth that wafted like steam from his lush, silky black pelt. With him towering over me, surrounding me with his massive bulk and utterly mythical shape, it was easy to forget about danger, and easier still to believe that he could handle anything, even my dad.
I stepped back again, nearly tripping over a root as my shoe caught on it. His body was so close that we were almost touching, like a strange kind of tango. And then he froze. His whole body tense, ears flicking, breath suddenly silent. Then he turned his great head toward the woods—still, alert, as if listening for something I couldn’t yet perceive.
Without warning, he bolted. One second he was in front of me; the next, he was gone, crashing through the forest like a shadow made of muscle and wrath. Hooves thudded against the earth, vibrating through my legs. A branch snapped in the distance. Then, silence.
I grappled with this change in reality, struggling to handle the shift from intense, confusing arousal to this… a sense of vulnerable alertness, a hint of abandonment that curled in my gut. But I wasn’t alone.
Avis stepped in front of me; tail bristled, ears flat. Every inch of him a warning. Something was out there. Something waswatching.
I clutched my coat tighter around me and stared at the empty space Gregory had left behind. My pulse thundered. The maze stood at my back, Avis stood by my feet, and dread curled like smoke in my lungs. Whatever had pulled him away… it was close. And it hadn’t come to play.
Chapter 14
Kess
“What’s going on?” I whispered to the cat standing protectively in front of me. Was it my imagination, or did he seem larger than before? Avis was a big fellow, but with all his fluffy fur raised, he seemed as big as a husky or a shepherd, not a simple house cat. He was glaring at the forest to the left of the house, the maze looming on my right. It felt like the forest was glaring back.
Gregory had gone that way, but I couldn’t see him now or hear anything. Not even the twitter of a bird or the flutter of wings. No rustling in the underbrush. I couldn’t recall if there had been any noises like that before, or if Gregory’s astonishing transformation had scared off the critters. Ah, fuck… I couldn’t believe this was real.
My gaze slipped from the watchful trees, along the cat acting more like a tiger, to the mysterious entrance of the maze. It didn’t seem so big when you considered it only ran along the back of the yard, the width of Gregory’s cozy cabin. But it seemed massive if you stared down the narrow, dark tunnel beyond the wrought-iron gate. The gate was open. Had it been open before? I didn’t think so.
It pulled at me, that narrow passage into the twisted interior. It was just like my dream maze: brambles and evergreens, tall hedges augmented by broken cars twisted into beautiful art. If I stepped inside, I would belost. But Avis knew the way, just like he did in my dream. Gregory would find me, chase me, just like in my dream as well.
A sound from behind had me spinning to gaze around the corner of the cabin. I could see a portion of the front yard and the side of the metal building that housed Gregory’s shop. A car was coming up the gravel road, its tires crunching, music blaring from the speakers.
I turned my head slowly, my heart already skipping. A black sedan. Not new. Its windows were tinted, the engine a low growl even as it idled. It rolled to a stop just beyond Gregory’s woodpile, out of direct view from where I stood, rooted at the tree line between maze and home. My breath hitched.
The sounds of doors opening—one, two, maybe more. Heavy boots stepped onto the gravel, then the grass, accompanied by muffled voices. Men, several of them. My stomach flipped, bile rising hot in my throat.
Of course, he didn’t come himself. My father was not above bloodying his hands when it came down to it. But now that he was getting older, he very much liked to emphasize his power. He would have gotten to high ground, maybe even rented out a house, set up shop. I could already picture him sitting in his polished chair like a king overseeing his kingdom, a gun close enough to pat fondly.
These were his men. Of that, I had no doubt, and they were here for me. I had two choices: run or let them take me. They wouldn’t kill me now, no, my dad would want to see me first. He’d take great delight in getting me back under his control; he could always kill me later.
Avis growled, a low, warning sound too deep for a cat that size. He planted himself in front of me again, tail stiff like a wire brush, his pale eyes narrowed toward the approaching footfalls.
I took one last look in the direction Gregory had vanished; the trees swaying gently, still as secrets. He was gone. There was no sign of him, not even a hoofprint in the dirt. It was almost like he’d vanished without a trace, but I knew he was there. He wouldn’t leave me without a good reason, and I was certain he’d be back. I couldn’t wait for that; it would be too late.
My eyes swept back to the house. I knew the second I stepped toward it, I’d be seen. Taken. Hauled back to New York. Back to the cage of a daughter my father had tried to mold, beat, and bribe into obedience. No. Not this time. I’d run because I was done obeying, run because I wanted to live my life, my way.
