Kept By Her Obsessed Minotaurs

2. Garron

2

GARRON

T he din of The Hound's Tooth tavern fades into a distant rumble as I fixate on the parchment. The human female's face, a mix of innocence and iron will, stares back at me, igniting a flicker of recognition that I'm quick to smother. I've been down this path before, and it led nowhere good.

"Another human?" I mutter. The words taste bitter on my tongue. I toss the parchment aside, the image of the woman now seared into my memory, as if it could somehow prepare me for what's to come.

Calo, ever the optimist, leans back with a carefree grin that seems out of place in our current predicament. "Easy gold, Garron. One girl. How hard can it be?" he replies confidently. His naivety grates on me, but I've come to expect it from the youngest among us.

Lazir, on the other hand, catches my eye with a knowing glance. "Harder than you think if you underestimate her," he warns, his voice a low growl.

I clench my tankard, the metal cool against my palm. "Last time we dealt with a human, we lost everything. Our clan, our honor," I say. My voice is low, steady, but inside, the beast of my past roars to life, threatening to break free.

Calo's enthusiasm doesn't wane. "And this job could buy it back," he insists, leaning forward with a glint in his eye that speaks of more than just gold. "We need this, Garron."

The room seems to hold its breath, waiting for my decision. The weight of our banishment hangs heavy on my shoulders, a constant reminder of the life we've lost. I'm silent for a long moment, weighing our options, considering the risks. Finally, with a resolve that's become my armor, I nod.

"We take it. But don't let your guard down. Humans are... tricky," I say. My words carry the weight of experience, a lesson learned the hard way.

Calo's grin widens, while Lazir merely nods, his gaze never leaving mine. I can see the questions in his eyes, the silent acknowledgment of the danger we're walking into. But there's also a spark of something else—determination, perhaps, or the glimmer of hope that this time, things will be different.

I drain my tankard, the ale doing little to quell the storm brewing within me. We're playing a dangerous game, one that could either restore our honor or lead us further down the path of ruin. But as I rise from the table, my decision firm, I know there's no turning back.

We're minotaurs, warriors born and bred. We've faced darkness and despair, and yet, here we stand, ready to face whatever this human has in store for us. I square my shoulders, my gaze sweeping over my companions.

"We have a job to do," I declare, my voice cutting through the din of the tavern. "Let's not forget who we are and what we're capable of."

With that, we leave The Hound's Tooth behind, stepping out into the cool night air. The city is alive with the sounds of revelry and danger, a perfect reflection of our own tumultuous journey.

Calo, Lazir, and I move through the throngs of people, our eyes scanning for the woman whose face is etched in my memory. Lazir's voice, low and urgent, cuts through my focus. "There," he murmurs, a nod of his head indicating a figure draped in a cloak, navigating the crowd with calculated ease.

My gaze locks onto the woman, and I see what Lazir has seen—the subtle tension in her shoulders, the way her eyes dart with more than just the typical wariness of a city at night. She knows she's being hunted. The realization sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through my veins.

A group of dark elf soldiers suddenly passes by us. Their armor glints in the flickering torchlight as they weave through the crowd, seemingly following the same trail we are. Lazir's curse is a soft hiss beside me. "Rivals," Calo growls, his fists clenching.

My mind races, the strategies of a thousand battles coalescing into a single plan. "Lazir, Calo—deal with the dark elves. I'll grab the girl," I order, my voice but a whisper. They nod, their forms disappearing into the sea of bodies.

I shadow the woman, my steps silent, a predator stalking its prey. She slips into an alley, and I'm on her in an instant. My hand clamps over her mouth as I slam her against the wall, the impact sharp and sudden. The edge of my blade soon kisses the soft skin of her throat.

"Don't move," I snarl, my face inches from hers. "Don't scream, or I'll gut you right here."

Her wide eyes meet mine, and I see the flicker of defiance there, a fire that even fear cannot extinguish. She nods, her body quivering beneath my grip. For a split second, I feel a twinge of something unexpected—pity, perhaps, or a shred of respect for her courage. But I shut it down, focusing on the mission.

With a swift, precise movement, I strike the back of her head, rendering her unconscious. She goes limp in my arms, and I hoist her over my shoulder. She's light, her weight a reminder of the fragility that lurks beneath her strength.

I head for our carriage waiting at the edge of the city. When I finally arrive, I dump her inside, her body landing with a soft thud on the wooden floor. I'm about to follow when Lazir and Calo appear, their expressions grim but triumphant.

"No dark elf will follow us now," Calo announces, a dark laugh escaping him as he wipes the blood from his knuckles.

I nod, climbing into the carriage beside the unconscious woman. "Let's get this over with," I say, the weight of the night settling on my shoulders.

As the carriage lurches forward, I can't help but study her. Her face, so determined in the drawing, is now slack, her breaths shallow and even. I find myself wondering about the fire I saw in her eyes, the same fire that once drew me to another human—a fire that led to nothing but pain and betrayal.

I shake off the memory, focusing on the road ahead. We have a long journey, and the woman beside me is nothing more than a means to an end—a path to reclaiming the honor we lost.

The city fades into the distance, replaced by the rugged landscape of the wilderness. The carriage rocks rhythmically, the sound of the horses' hooves a steady drumbeat against the silence of the night.

I glance at the woman again, her chest rising and falling in the dim light. I tell myself she's just another job, another step on the road to redemption. But as the hours pass, and the city recedes into the background, I can't shake the feeling that this woman might be more than we bargained for.

The carriage hits a rut in the road, jostling us. She stirs, a low moan escaping her lips. I lean forward, my hand resting on the hilt of my dagger, ready for any sign of wakefulness. But she remains unconscious, her face a mask of vulnerability that belies the spirit I glimpsed in that alleyway.

The night is still young, and the road ahead is long and uncertain. But as I sit there, surrounded by the darkness, I can't help but feel that we're on the cusp of something—a confrontation, a revelation, or perhaps, a second chance at something long thought lost.