Kept By Her Obsessed Minotaurs

19. Calo

19

CALO

M y breath comes in ragged gasps, the coppery tang of blood on my tongue. I swipe at my split lip, the pain a distant echo compared to the turmoil raging inside me. "If Garron touches Mara again, I’m gone," I snarl, my voice trembling with a mix of fury and betrayal. "I’m done."

Garron's laugh is a bitter, hollow sound that reverberates off the worn wooden walls of the inn. He gestures dismissively toward Mara, who stands apart from us, her face a mask of calm indifference. "Gone? Over her?" he taunts, his icy gaze never leaving hers. "You think she cares about you? Any of you?"

Mara's response is swift, a dagger aimed straight at Garron's heart. "Shut up," she commands, her voice a steady blade that slices through the tension. She steps forward, her petite frame a barrier between Garron and me. Her defiance ignites something within me, a fierce protectiveness that burns away the remnants of my doubt.

Garron's smirk is a cruel twist of his lips, his eyes as cold as the northern winds. "Calo, why don't you ask her if it felt good fucking Lazir?" he sneers.

Time halts, the world narrowing to the space between Mara and me. My heart thunders in my chest. I turn to her, my voice a mere whisper, a threadbare veil over the depth of my anguish. "Is it true?"

Her silence is a storm cloud, heavy and oppressive. When she finally speaks, her words are clipped, each syllable a shard of ice. "Yes," she confesses, her gaze unwavering. "Lazir owns me as much as you do. As much as Garron does."

The impact of her admission hits me with the force of a battering ram, shattering the fragile trust I've placed in her. My hands ball into fists, my throat constricting as I struggle to draw breath.

Garron's voice, low and venomous, slices through my haze of anger and hurt. "You’re destroying us," he accuses, his words a poison-tipped arrow aimed at Mara's heart. "All of us."

I can't stomach another moment in this suffocating hallway, another second in the presence of their shared betrayal. Without a backward glance, I spin on my heel and storm out of the inn.

How could I have been so stupid? I thought Mara was different, that she needed us as much as we needed her. But it seems I was just another pawn in her game, a means to an end. The realization cuts deeper than any physical wound, a stark reminder of the dangers of trusting too easily.

The cobblestone streets beneath my boots echo with a hollow cadence that mirrors the hollow feeling inside me. The lowtown's shadows cling to me like a second skin, but they're no match for the cold that's seeped into my bones. Mara's betrayal slices deeper than any blade I've faced on the battlefield. How did I miss the signs? How did I let myself become ensnared by her act?

"Damn her," I mutter beneath my breath.

Mara tries to follow after me. Her presence lurks at the edge of my senses. I lengthen my stride, a futile attempt to outrun her, to find some semblance of peace within the turmoil.

Every few steps, I glance back, half expecting—half dreading—to see her still trailing behind, but the gloom swallows everything behind me. Part of me longs to turn around, to confront her and demand the truth that's been so cunningly obscured. Yet I know better. My fists clench at the thought of facing her again. Not yet. Not until I've calmed the chaotic storm brewing within my chest.

I retreat into a shadowed alleyway, my shoulders heaving with the weight of my emotions. I press my back against the damp stone of the wall, closing my eyes against the cold bite of reality. Garron's warning echoes through my skull: "She's playing you too."

Of course, she is. A human female with soft lips that spoke lies of need and passion, of desperation that we mistook for sincerity. My hand involuntarily traces the ghost of her kiss on my lips, and I resist the urge to spit the betrayal from my mouth.

How could I have been so utterly, irrevocably blind? My mind reels as I replay each interaction with Mara, sifting through her words and caresses in search of a thread of authenticity. Instead, I find layers upon layers of manipulation. Each act of tenderness now seems tainted by a darker motive, one designed to drive a wedge between Garron, Lazir, and me. To unravel the very fabric of our trust and camaraderie, worn thin by our exile.

"I was a fool," I whisper, my voice raw against the eerie silence that cloaks the alley.

An hour passes before I return to the inn, the heat of my anger cooled to a hollow ache in my chest. The moment I push through the worn wooden door, Lazir's frantic expression meets me. "Where's Mara?" he demands, his voice sharp with panic.

My stomach sinks. "What do you mean? She didn't come back?" I ask, my voice filled with concern. I glance around the dimly lit room, half expecting to see her tucked away in a shadowy corner.

Lazir's glare could cut glass. "You should have been guarding her!" he snaps, his frustration spilling over.

Before I can form a retort, Garron's fist collides with the wall, the sound of splintering wood echoing through the room. "She's gone, you idiot!" he roars, his face twisted in fury. "While you were out sulking, she disappeared. Our golden ticket is now gone."

A chill slices through me at his words. Without another word, I turn on my heel and bolt out of the inn, my heart thrashing against my ribs. The streets of the lowtown are a labyrinth of narrow alleyways and crowded marketplaces, but I don't hesitate. I sprint through the winding paths, my eyes scanning the sea of faces for any sign of her.

Garron and Lazir are close behind, their heavy footsteps pounding the cobblestones in a desperate rhythm. We weave through the throng of lowtown dwellers, our gazes sharp as knives, but Mara is nowhere to be found. The realization that she's vanished—potentially snatched from right under our noses—sends a jolt of cold dread coursing through my veins.

"Damn it, Mara," I mutter under my breath, clenching my fists in frustration. How could she just vanish like this? My mind races with questions and accusations. I should have been there. I should have protected her.

The weight of my failure bears down on me, heavy and unyielding. I'm the one who convinced the others to trust her, to take on her mission. And now, because of my naivety, we're all paying the price. The thought of her out there, alone and unprotected, gnaws at me.

Garron's hand clamps down on my shoulder, his grip firm. "We're not giving up," he says, his voice resolute. "She's out there, and we're going to find her."

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. "We'll turn this lowtown upside down if we have to," I declare, my voice echoing with a promise of retribution. Mara might have slipped through our fingers for now, but I refuse to let her go without a fight.

As we press onward, the relentless pursuit of our elusive prize driving us forward, I can't help but wonder what we'll find at the end of this twisted game of cat and mouse.