Kept By Her Obsessed Minotaurs

4. Lazir

4

LAZIR

T he fire's glow dances across the human female's face, highlighting the determined set of her jaw and the spark of defiance in her hazel eyes. It's a familiar look, one I've seen on the battlefield, but it's misplaced on her. Mara, she calls herself.

I grab the rope, the rough fibers biting into my palm. Her gaze locks onto it, and she recoils as if it's a serpent poised to strike. "No," she pleads, her voice barely a whisper against the crackling fire. "Please… don't tie me up again."

I can't help but scoff. "I'm not as stupid as Calo," I say, my voice low and steady as I crouch before her. Her eyes are wide, fear and desperation warring within their depths. I loop the rope around her wrists, my movements deliberate and precise. "You're too obvious, human. I see what you're doing."

She swallows hard, her face losing what little color it had. "What do you mean?" she stammers, trying to pull away from the inevitable.

I smirk, tightening the knot with a sharp tug. "You think you can manipulate him," I say, nodding toward Calo, who's busy tending to the horses. "Play on his sympathy. But it won't work with me."

Her defiance crumbles, replaced by a vulnerability that I refuse to be swayed by. "I… I wasn’t…" Her voice trails off, and she lowers her gaze to her bound hands. Her breaths come quicker now, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm that betrays her fear.

For a moment, my hands still. There's a part of me that's bothered by her fear, a part that feels an unwelcome twinge of guilt. But I push it aside. She's a job, nothing more. I've seen too many fall for the damsel's act, and I won't be one of them.

I finish tying the rope, ensuring it's secure but not too tight. "You're not the first to try and outsmart us," I say, standing up to my full height, looming over her.

Mara's voice slices through the tension. "I can pay you more."

"What?" The word slips out, gruff and disbelieving.

Her next words spill forth like a dam breaking, rushed and tinged with desperation. "I can pay you more—more than whatever my dark elf master is offering you!"

My brow furrows, skepticism etched into the lines of my face. I lean in, my voice a low growl, my eyes narrow slits of suspicion. "Where?"

Her breath hitches, a small, telling sound that echoes in the quiet space between us. My hands begin their search, patting her down with practiced efficiency. I feel the contours of her arms, the folds of her tunic, the swell of her hips. When my hand inadvertently grazes the curve of her breast, she gasps, her body tensing like a bowstring.

Our eyes lock, and I freeze, the world narrowing to the space where our gaze collides. Her cheeks flush a deep crimson, her lips parting slightly as if to speak, but no words come out. The softness of her, the vulnerability in her wide eyes, it's disarming. My grip tightens on her arm, my breath coming heavy and ragged.

"The gold… it’s… it’s not there. It’s on my side in my satchel." Her voice is a whisper, a secret told in the dead of night. My fingers slide along her breast to her ribcage, lingering longer than necessary, betraying the alpha male exterior I've always prided myself on.

An involuntary moan escapes her lips as my thumb brushes against her nipple, the thin fabric of her tunic doing little to mask the sensation. The sound is a siren's call, a temptation that sends a jolt of desire coursing through me, followed swiftly by a surge of self-reproach. Her scent, earthy and sweet like fresh rain on sun-warmed soil, invades my senses, clouding my judgment.

I pull back abruptly, severing the connection between us. My fists clench at my sides, the roughness of my palms a stark reminder of who I am—and more importantly, who she is. A job.

"Humans are dangerous," I mutter under my breath, the words meant more for myself than for her. The memory of Garron's downfall, the result of trusting a human woman, flashes through my mind like a warning beacon.

Mara's eyes are still on me, her expression a mix of fear and something else I can’t name. I stand, towering over her, my shadow casting her in darkness.

I turn away, needing the distance to regain my composure. The fire crackles beside us, a silent witness to the tension that hangs heavy in the air. I can feel her eyes on me, watching, waiting. But I don't look back. I can't. Not when my own resolve is starting to waver.

I take a deep breath, the cool night air filling my lungs. I need to stay focused, to remember why we're here. It's about the gold, about restoring our honor and returning home. It can't be about her.

With a growl, I storm back over to Mara. I reach forcibly into her satchel and my fingers close around a small pouch, heavy with the promise of gold. Pulling it free, I loosen the strings and glance inside, the dull glint of coin catching my eye. It isn’t much, but it’s more than I’d expect from a former slave.

“This isn’t a lot,” I say, my voice low and skeptical as I dump the coins into my palm. They’re warm, still holding the heat from her body. “What do you mean by ‘more’?”

Mara bites her lip, a gesture that’s becoming all too familiar and far too distracting. Her voice is trembling but steady, a testament to the steel beneath her fragile exterior. “I’ll explain… but only if you call your friends over first.”

I don’t move, don't speak. I just stare at her, the wheels in my mind turning, weighing her words.

The question is, why should I trust her? She’s a job, a means to an end. And yet, there’s a part of me that’s curious. I’ve always prided myself on being able to read people, to see through their facades to the truth underneath. But Mara is different. She’s a puzzle wrapped in a mystery, and for some reason, I want to solve her.

I glance over at Garron and Calo, their silhouettes barely visible against the backdrop of the darkened woods. They’re talking, their voices too low for me to make out the words. Garron’s posture is rigid, his usual stoicism replaced by a palpable tension. Calo, on the other hand, seems more relaxed, his body language betraying his youth and inexperience.

I grit my teeth, my grip tightening on the pouch. It’s a paltry sum, but it’s a start. And if Mara really does have more… it could change everything. We could finally return home, our honor restored. We could finally be free of this cursed existence, wandering from one job to the next, always looking over our shoulders.

I take a deep breath. I need to tread carefully here. One wrong move, and everything could come crashing down around us. But if there’s even the slightest chance that she’s telling the truth, I can’t afford to ignore it.

“Fine,” I say, my voice echoing in the stillness of the night. “I’ll get Garron and Calo. But if you’re lying to us, Mara, I promise you’ll regret it.”

With that, I turn on my heel and stride over to my companions, leaving Mara alone by the fire.