Fuming, I storm through the archway and follow her out. I know I’m being ridiculous, but I don’t care.
I’m almost blinded by what can only be the sun. A blur of blues and greens fill my vision as my eyes struggle to adjust. Myweight sinks my hooves into the fertile soil covered with grass, and a gentle breeze blows at my hair.
What the hell? Am I back home?
Scanning the rolling hills, a large building comes into view. And then I spot my witch, carrying a black umbrella. A stark contrast to her milky figure and sheer gown walking toward the structure.
I rush to follow Galatea into the huge barn.
The space I find myself in is like a fucking slasher movie. The floor yawns as I’m frozen in place, looking down and taking in the view of my hooves on top of the hide of a minotaur.
Somehow, I break the morbid spell and look up. The walls are decorated with bull heads. My stomach turns at the sadistic display, and I recognized two of the victims as missing students from campus.
She’s a fucking serial rapist and killer. A butcher of innocent bulls.
Objects carved from horn lie around the area— cups, ashtrays, even pool cues. There’s furniture made of cow skin, pillows and blankets made of cow leather, with the hair still attached…
My level of anger goes from seething to enraged, and I’m seeing red. I would make her pay for this, for targeting my kind
But then the sound of moaning and groaning reaches my ears. And the thought that she could be involved in some mass orgy with a bunch of bulls puts revulsion and revenge on the back burner in favor of pure wrath.
Blind jealousy is too weak a word for the savage fire that lights my blood.
Bulls were going to die.
My witch had no idea of the brutality I was currently capable of, no way to know that I, too, could commit acts of barbarity,that since meeting her, I was no longer that practical professor she’d abducted.
There is no logic. No reason left. Rationality disappeared the moment our bodies joined. I could not help but find her, claim her, dominate her, fuck her, protect her, and bind her to my side for the rest of our lives.
Fine. She could have it her way. I would join her in her depravity. I would kill and skin any bull who’d dared to touch her.
I charge at the door that separated the room of horrors from the milking brothel my mate dared to keep. But no longer. My semen would be enough to sustain her. These other bulls had to go.
The slight barrier gave way easily, no match for my violence.
Rows and rows of minotaurs lay on their backs and stomachs, with machines pumping away at their cocks as the bulls moaned in pleasure. Tubes and bottles and buckets of semen surround the area.
Then I see her. Galatea. She strokes a bull’s dick and caps it with rubber piece attached to a tube. Snarling, I’m already moving toward them, but then the bull makes a fatal mistake by resting his hand on her hip.
Wood takes to the air, destroyed by my massive horns.
Red is all I see.
Literally.
It’s blood.
The bull’s pain and terror fills the barn, seemingly disrupting the other minotaurs from their pleasure-induced, comatose states. Smaller beings who were attending those bulls rush out of the barn in panic. Those left behind now bellow to be released from their milky prisons.
I roar, announcing this barn andheras my territory. Before me, blood spews from the bull’s shoulder stump and puddles atmy feet, but I don’t care. I throw down the arm I had detached for daring to touch what was mine then grab my witch. I drag her out of the stall.
“Aww,” she complains. “You’ve ruined the supply with blood...”
I take her to the middle of the barn where all the other minotaurs can see us and bend her over a steel prep table. Galatea tries to scramble away across the top, but I grab her ankle and draw her back to me.
“Dammit, binding magic is not a good look on your kind. Too primal.”
I ignore her and snatch off my toga.
