Her face was young and clean—so very different from his. His muscles strained beneath his skin as the heat in the pit of his belly spiked. At first glance, the hag looked like a human female from Savadon. A prize of the light. With blood that would make his clan strong. There was nothing haggish about her. In fact, he did not know who had given her that name, much lesswhy.
Astegur studied her silently as her hands came up and wrapped around his horns, polishing away the dried centaur blood.
The last time someone had touched his horns in such as way had been many years ago, when he had taken a female minotaur from his old tribe to the stables to rut.
Astegur stiffened and tore his eyes away from her face to look at her pale skin, which was devoid of scars, scratches, and even the sunspots that all humans had, even thralls.
An illusion? A trick of the eye? He had never encountered such a thing as her in the labyrinth. But he could not convince himself that she was entirely real. She reeked of magic. His gaze dipped to her long, black hair which fell in messy, tangled waves around her shoulders and down to her waist. Some of that lay upon his arm. It felt like spider silk and soft grass.
The hag nodded and shifted to crouch in front of him, pulling her hair away from where it had fallen on his arm. Astegur knew he could not forget that she was dangerous, despite her intriguing presence.
She reached out to touch his horns again, and he brushed her away.
“You will do,” she said with resolve, sitting back.
“Do what?”
She shifted closer to him. “Protect me. Protect the haven of Prayer in the days to come. Fight for this place as long as it stands. You killed the centaurs scouting my lands. I no longer sense their presence. You are exactly what I am looking for. So, you will do.”
His tail slapped across the stony ground. “You dare command me?” He was not a servant, nor a slave. He was a warrior, a battlemaster, a tactician. He glared at the pretty witch. “You are crazed, hag. You do not know who you are speaking to. I am not a beast of burden. You dance closer to your death with every word you speak.”
“You were payment. Youarepayment.”
“Payment? No one has dominion over me.”
The female’s long black hair fell into her face as she cocked her head at him. “Your brother’s human gave me the seed of a bull—thelifeof a bull. So, I chose yours as payment for my help in their need for a cure and a safe escape from the centaurs tracking them. They gave me that power, as small as it was at the time. My help is not free—not ever. The few creatures who I have allowed to enter here over my endless years knew that. They could not get through my barriers otherwise.”
His nostrils flared. “My brother’s what?” His hands flexed at his sides, his knuckles bulged to hold his weapon. He had smelled human blood at the centaur camp. Had Vedikus won a prized human from Savadon? Could it be true? His tribe had not had access to a fount of human blood since his mother.
“He passed through here not long ago with a human female he had captured at the labyrinth wall.”
“Vedikus. He procured a human?”
The hag nodded. “Yes, that was his name. Vedikus and Aldora.”
“Why would he need one such as you for help?” If his brother had obtained a human, a female at that, Vedikus wouldn’t trust any being in the world with her—not even his tribe, not even hisbrothers—especially if he planned to breed her. Minotaurs were sexually aggressive and exceedingly possessive of their current sexual partner or mate.
“They sought sanctuary and a cure for the mist curse. Time was not on their side, and I could offer them what they needed,” the hag said.
Steam poured out of his mouth. “And now I’m here.”
“And now you’re here.” The hag’s hair swept across her skin at that moment, winding its way over her shoulders and blowing across his chest. A soft touch. The female remained motionless, looking up at him, waiting, unafraid of how close to death she was.
But then she jerked away, scrambling on lithe limbs out of his reach as if she could sense the danger. His jaw ticked as he watched her. She moved to the fire and added more blisterbark, building up the flames when she suddenly bent over with a moan and clutched her stomach. She dropped to her knees.
He waited for the moment to pass so they could continue their conversation, but her face blanketed and tears gathered on her lashes.
“What swamp-spawned disease ails you?” he demanded.
She flinched, and he barely stopped himself from grabbing her hair and forcing an answer from her throat.
She slowly lifted her face and looked back at him. “It was painful to bring you here,” she whispered with a gasp. “I have not used so much of my willpower at once, not since I can remember.”
“You did not bring me here. I came.”
The hag shook her head. “I summoned you. I gave you no choice.”
Astegur grabbed her arm and narrowed his gaze. “What nonsense is this?”
