I squeezed back, grateful for her support. “I’m still processing it all, to be honest. But when I’m with him… it just feels right, you know? Like the most natural thing in the world.”
“Love often does,” Brenda said simply.
My heart skipped at the word. “I didn’t say?—”
“You didn’t have to.” Her smile was knowing. “It’s written all over your face, honey.”
Was it love? The word both thrilled and terrified me. It seemed too soon, too significant to attach to these new, overwhelming feelings. And yet, when I thought about Rion—his gentle strength, his quiet dignity, the way his dark eyes softened when they met mine—something inside me resonated with certainty.
“I don’t know if it’s love yet,” I said carefully. “But it’s definitely heading in that direction.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, you’re not alone in dating someone… non-human,” Brenda said, finishing her coffee. “You know Dr. Mercer, the veterinarian?”
I nodded, confused by the apparent change of subject.
“His wife is a werewolf,” Brenda stated matter-of-factly. “Has been for years. They met when she brought in her actual dog for shots, if you can believe it.”
My mouth fell open. “Dr. Mercer is married to a werewolf? How did I not know this?”
Brenda shrugged. “It’s not exactly a secret, but they’re pretty low-key about it. She only transforms during the full moon, and they’ve got a special room in their basement for those nights.” She laughed at my expression. “Close your mouth, Clara. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I just… I had no idea,” I stammered.
“And you know the bakery on Elm Street? The one with those amazing cream puffs?”
I nodded, still reeling from the revelation about Dr. Mercer.
“The owner is a changeling,” Brenda continued. “Left by faeries when she was a baby. It’s why her pastries are so supernaturally good—literally.”
My mind was spinning. “How do you know all this?”
“I pay attention,” Brenda said simply. “Plus, my cousin dated a vampire for a while in college. Not the sparkly kind, the real deal. It didn’t work out—scheduling conflicts, you know, with him being nocturnal—but it opened my eyes to how many non-humans are actually integrated into society.”
“But Rion said minotaurs are extremely rare,” I pointed out. “He thinks he might be the only one in this part of the country.”
“That may well be true,” Brenda acknowledged. “Certain types of monsters—sorry, non-humans—are definitely more common than others. Werewolves and vampires are practically mainstream these days. But the rarer kinds tend to keep to themselves more. It makes sense, if you think about it. The more unusual you are, the harder it is to blend in.”
I thought about Rion’s towering height, his magnificent horns, the fur that covered his powerful body. Even with his talentfor architecture and his brilliant mind, there was no way he could ever “blend in” the way a werewolf might between transformations.
“He’s built his entire life around avoiding people,” I said quietly. “His home is remote, he works alone, he barely goes out in public. And when he does, he tries to hide as much as possible.”
Brenda’s expression grew serious. “That’s a lonely existence.”
“It is,” I agreed, feeling a renewed surge of protectiveness towards Rion. “And I think… I think that’s why our connection feels so significant. It’s not just about attraction or compatibility. It’s about him finding someone who sees him—really sees him—and doesn’t run away.”
“And you finding someone who appreciates you for exactly who you are,” Brenda added gently.
I smiled, touched by her insight. “Yeah, that too.”
“So,” Brenda leaned forward again, her eyes bright with curiosity, “when do I get to meet him? Properly, I mean. Not just as the guy helping around the library, but as your minotaur boyfriend.”
My smile faltered slightly. “That’s… complicated. He’s still really hesitant about meeting new people, especially as… himself. Without all the concealing clothes and hats, I mean.”
“He’s met me before,” Brenda pointed out.
“I know, but that was different. He was in his ‘disguise,’ and it was a professional context.” I sighed, remembering the conversation Rion and I had had via text that morning. “I asked him if he’d like to meet you properly, and he was… politely evasive.”
“Ah,” Brenda nodded understandingly. “Bad experiences in the past?”
