Kept By Her Obsessed Minotaurs

13. Garron

13

GARRON

I sit rigid against the rough bark of a tree, my arms crossed firmly over my chest like a barrier. The fire crackles nearby, a beacon of warmth in the cool night air, but it does little to thaw the cold knot in my stomach. My gaze is inescapably drawn to Calo and Mara as they emerge from the darkness. Their clothes are damp and clinging to their skin, their faces alight with laughter. Something in their shared smiles twists in my gut, a discomfort I can't quite name.

My jaw clenches tightly, my teeth grinding audibly as I watch Calo sit too close to her by the fire. Mara leans in, her laughter soft and musical, and I can't help but feel the sting of irritation. "What the hell is he doing?" The thought burns through my mind like an ember, hot and unwelcome.

When Calo finally rises to check his gear, I seize the opportunity. I push myself up from the ground, my shadow falling long and dark over the fire as I stalk toward him. My movements are heavy with tension, each step echoing the turmoil within me.

"What did you do?" I ask. My voice is low, sharp as a blade. Calo glances up, his expression annoyingly nonchalant.

"What are you talking about?" he retorts, his hands busy with his equipment.

I step closer to him, my glare cutting through the space between us. "With Mara. Don’t play dumb. Did you fuck her?" I growl.

A spark of defiance lights up in Calo's eyes, his lips curling into a smirk. "That's none of your damn business, Garron. It was consensual," he replies.

His words are a slap, the sting of them sharp and sudden. My voice rises, barely contained. "This isn’t about that. You’re complicating the mission! You think the dark elves will go easy on us because you decided to make her your woman?" I retort loudly.

Calo straightens to his full height, his eyes meeting mine with a steadiness that grates on me. "She's not a complication. She's mine now, and I'll protect her. You don't get to decide what I do," he replies firmly.

My chest heaves, frustration boiling over into anger. "You're reckless, Calo. You don't even know what you’re dealing with," I bark.

His voice is steady, unyielding. "Maybe I don’t. But I know she's worth it," he says.

I scoff, my gaze flicking toward the fire where Mara sits, her head tilted as if she could hear our argument. I turn on my heel, storming off into the darkness. Nobody listens to me anymore, not even my own kin.

The cool air of the night wraps around me, offering a moment of solitude. I rake my fingers through my fur, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. I can't shake the feeling that we're walking into a trap, and Calo's infatuation with Mara is only making things worse.

I take a deep breath, trying to quell the storm raging inside me. I need to stay focused, to remember why we're doing this in the first place. We're not some vagabond mercenaries; we're exiles seeking redemption. And yet, here we are, chasing after shadows and gold, led by the whims of a human slave.

Lazir's voice cuts through my brooding thoughts. "You're loud enough to wake the dead," he mutters.

I stop, my muscles tensing beneath my leather armor. The night air suddenly feels heavy against my fur. "You heard?" I reply.

"Hard not to," he retorts. He leans against a gnarled oak, his broken horn casting a jagged shadow in the moonlight. "Calo's young. He'll make mistakes. We all do."

My fists clench and I rumble, "This isn't just a mistake. Mara... she reminds me so much of—" The name sticks in my throat like thorns. Even now, after all this time, I can't say it.

Lazir's amber eyes soften, unusual for him. "Mara might not be the same as your betrayer. You don't know her yet," he says, his voice low.

I open my mouth to argue—because I do know, I've seen this before—but a sound splits the night air. A howl, deep and resonant, echoes through the trees. Another joins it, then a third, each one closer than the last.

The hair on the back of my neck rises. These aren't normal wolf calls—there's something wrong in their pitch, something that makes my battle-instincts surge.

Lazir straightens, his hand moving to his blade. Gone is his usual sardonic expression, replaced by the sharp focus I remember from our warrior days. "Wolves don't howl like that without reason," he states firmly.

I scan the darkness between the trees, my eyes picking up movement in the shadows. The wind shifts, bringing with it a scent that makes my blood run cold. "It's not just wolves," I growl. My hand finds the grip of my axe. "Something's coming."

The sharp scent of pine and the metallic tang of impending battle fill my nostrils as I rush back to the fire. The crackle of flames is drowned out by the pounding of my own heart. Calo and Mara are stirring, their laughter dying on their lips as they sense the tension in the air.

"Calo, protect Mara," I command, my voice cutting through the night. "The dark elves are here."

No sooner than the words leave my mouth, an arrow slices through the air, its deadly hiss ending with a sharp smack as it grazes Mara's head. Time slows. I lunge, my body a shield as I shove her to the ground. The next arrow meant for her finds its mark in my shoulder. Pain explodes, white-hot and searing.

Mara's hands flutter over me, her touch tentative and trembling. "Garron, you’re hurt!" Her voice is a high-pitched squeak, laced with panic.

I grit my teeth against the pain, pushing her away with a rough shove. "Stay back!" My growl is a warning, my vision swimming with rage and agony. Her eyes widen, the hurt in them evident, but there's no time for softness. I force myself to my feet, the world tilting dangerously for a moment.

Blood seeps through my tunic, a crimson bloom that stains the fabric. I snatch up my axe, my grip unwavering despite the pain that radiates from my shoulder. The forest comes alive with movement as dark elves materialize from the shadows, their eyes gleaming with malice.

My lips peel back in a snarl, my voice a low rumble. "Let's finish this."

The dark elves charge, their movements a blur of deadly intent. But we are not unprepared. Calo stands protectively in front of Mara, his hammer gripped tightly in his hands. Lazir is at my side, his blades glinting in the firelight, his broken horn casting a menacing shadow across his face.

"On my signal," I murmur to him, my eyes locked on the advancing enemy.

Lazir nods, his focus absolute. He's always been the quiet one, but his silence speaks volumes. We've fought side by side for years, our bodies moving in a dance of deadly precision.

The first wave of dark elves reaches us, their swords raised high. I meet them head-on, my axe swinging in a wide arc. The impact vibrates up my arm, a grim reminder of the arrow lodged in my shoulder, but I push the pain aside. I am a minotaur, bred for battle and born to lead.

"Stay close," I yell back at Mara, my voice carrying over the dying embers of the fire.