“Your magic, human,” he says. “They can sense your magic.”
ChapterNine
“Magic? I don’t have any magic.” I chuckle, despite the situation. Even the word coming from my mouth sounds absurd.
He snorts, a deep rough timbre that sounds more animal than man as he peers down at me. His nose ring glistens in the low light, and his dark eyes watch me intently, seeing too much. His body blocks me from a chilling wind, nothing but pure heat pouring from him until I find myself stepping closer, needing that heat, that warmth he seems to provide. He frowns and steps away, making me wrap my arms around myself as the wind swoops in again.
“You’re the hunt, I’m guessing?”
“Yes, lucky me, right?” I mutter, shivering again. “Not that I’ll survive long enough to be hunted. I have no idea where I am or where to go. I need shelter and warmth, and I’m so…lost.” I hate that tears fill my eyes, so I dash them away quickly, jerking my gaze from the monster. I don’t want his pity, or worse, his amusement.
As the awkward silence stretches on, I start to turn on my heel and walk away when he suddenly sighs. “You’re in my land. Mine and my brethren’s.” His voice is slow and unsure, and I don’t turn around, worried he’ll stop talking if I do. “To the east is the Dread Sea. You can walk the forgotten beaches and be safe. Just avoid the water at all costs. Many big monsters avoid going there due to it. To the west is nothing but the Murder Lands. It’s where the fights are and the strongest, vicious beasts dwell. They’ll eat and kill anything. Beyond them all to the north is the mountains.”
“I saw them.” I turn, almost gleeful when he nods.
“There isn’t much in the way of shelter or anything to eat here.” He grins, flashing big sharp teeth. “They don’t call it the Dead Lands for nothing. You could make a fire, but then it will attract predators, which could kill and eat you. Otherwise…” He shrugs. “The hunt never makes it this far inland, never past the marshland. If the tree nymphs at the border don’t get them, then usually the fey do in the marshes.”
“The fey—the blue guy?” I ask, and he huffs.
“Him and his people, though he’s certainly the most annoying. Just avoid going east too far or west too far or north—”
“That’s everywhere,” I point out, swallowing when new fear arises. I knew I wouldn’t survive here, but to hear it so plainly? What’s the point of running and fighting if there’s nothing to fight for? My shoulders slump in defeat at the thought.
“Pretty much, human,” he grumbles before turning and starting to walk away. I know I’ll lose him to the darkness, and that’s when an idea strikes me. He seems willing to help me. Maybe I can make a deal with the monster?
I never thought I’d hear myself thinking that, but here we are.
I hurry after him, only tripping once, and when I reach his side, I’m out of breath. He doesn’t slow, doesn’t even spare me a look as I practically sprint to keep up with his strides.
“You could help me,” I begin, making him snort and stomp his hooves harder into the slippery mud as he storms through the trees. I find myself forgetting about the snake man, Nero, and the danger around me. Instead, I focus on the minotaur as I hurry to keep up with him. “You could. You’re obviously strong and capable and don’t want to eat me, that’s a plus.” He continues to ignore me, and my voice starts to get desperate. “Without you, I’ll die.”
“Not my problem,” he snaps.
“Can…we…” I wheeze, “stop while we talk?” I beg, and when he finally stops, I bend over, placing my hands on my knees. “Fuck, you’re a fast son of a bitch.”
“Go back to your destiny, human, and leave me to mine,” he says, and then without waiting for me to catch my breath, storms off again.
Fuck.
I hurry after him, ignoring my shaking, exhausted legs and aching lungs. I manage to keep up, jumping only slightly at the howls that seem closer and the sound of monsters. In fact, I draw closer to his back as we walk, as if he will protect me.
Which he probably won’t.
He zigzags, shooting me looks as if he’s trying to dislodge his annoying human stalker, but I just grin and speed up after him, much to his annoyance.
The ground soon changes from spongy to solid, hurting my aching feet. They start to drag, and my shoulders start to droop when he slows. I feel his eyes on me, and a moment later, he veers left. There’s a huge boulder that towers above us, and he circles it. Swearing under my breath, I hurry around it, expecting him to jump out at me or to have disappeared, but I find him crouched on the ground there with a bag and weapon at his side. He starts to dig in the dirt. Curious, I tread closer and watch him. I take the opportunity to lean into the boulder, resting for a moment, when I realize he’s building a fire.
“Sit before you fall,” he orders without looking at me.
Eyeing him curiously, I drag myself closer and sit heavily, my side to the boulder as I wrap my arms around my legs and pull them into myself. I shiver from the cold, my head drops to my knees in exhaustion, and my eyes burn from lack of sleep, but I fight it, watching him as the fire blooms to life. He deftly feeds it before he sits back and pulls something from his bag. With sure fingers, all while his eyes search the area, he threads what I realize is meat onto a skewer and props it above the fire. Soon, the delicious aroma of cooking meat reaches me, perking me up. My stomach rumbles, reminding me of how hungry I am and how the food I brought with me got ruined in the water while running from the fey.
He doesn’t look over. He completely ignores me in favor of watching the surrounding area as the meat cooks, his hand hovering near his weapon at all times. I take the time to study him.
He really is beautiful.
Ripping the meat from the burnt skewer with his clawed fingers, he shoves as much as he can into his mouth, chewing quickly before biting at more and ripping it off. Juices run over his lips, chin, and hands. He’s messy and slightly arousing as he eats. I watch him sadly. I know I’m pouting. My stomach growls loudly, and he looks over at the sound. He freezes, his mouth partially opened from chewing his next bite, as he holds the rest of the skewer protectively in one hand. I try not to look pitiful, try not to look like I’m asking for food he was hard pressed to find himself, but my stomach growls again, and I curl into a tighter ball.
Sighing, he hands what’s left on the skewer over, grumbling under his breath. I want to protest, to ask if he’s sure, but I’m too hungry to be polite or to eat like a lady—not that I assume he will care since he won’t even look at me. He just starts feeding the fire again. Holding the skewer in both hands, I dig my teeth into the meat and rip like he did before chewing. It’s tough, tougher than I’m used to, but the taste isn’t half bad. It’s almost spicy without being overpowering, and after one bite, I devour the rest. I rip into it like an animal. When I’m done, I look up to see Grimus watching me with amusement. Smiling guiltily, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and hand the skewer back.
