“Better to just remove her from the breeding pool then,” her mate snarled with menace.
“Ashul, no,” Robyn sighed, though she was loath to. Personally, she agreed with him, but if the woman was out there trying to save young women who needed help, she was better left alive to continue to do her work. And hopefully learn something valuable from this exchange.
Ashul gave Robyn a pained look. “My love? You cannot be serious. Just let me kill her and be done with it before she attempts to kill us again. It would be quite exhausting to have to continuously fend her off like some noble’s yappy kierwik with her attempt to ‘defend’ you.”
Robyn’s lips twitched faintly. She had no idea what exactly a kierwik was, but she got the essence of his complaint. Sighing, she walked up to him and ran her hand up his bloody arm in attempt to soothe her monster.
Confusion colored the red-head’s face, and she paled with discomfort as she watched their exchange. “Your… love?” she stammered and shook her head. “What’s going on?”
Robyn gave the younger woman a hard look. Letting go of Ashul’s arm, she walked over, raised her hand, and slapped the fighter across the face—on the uninjured side since she wasn’t quite the monster her mate was, but she still didn’t hesitate to get her own shot in. The woman would survive it. Pain was part of a fighter’s life. Besides, it was oddly satisfying. Even Ashul didn’t seem to mind her charity. Instead, he let out a loud purr of approval from behind her.
As if her other cheek weren’t ripped through and pouring blood, the woman lifted a hand to her struck cheek as she gaped as Robyn in shock.
“Like I said: you’re an idiot. If you had slowed down long enough to truly analyze the situation and not just reacted based on whatever preconceived notions you had, you would’ve noticed that I was very much enjoying everything that he was doing,” Robyn snapped. “He is not my attacker. He’s my mate!”
The young woman’s eyes widened, her mouth rounding in horror. “Oh, fuck.”
“Precisely,” Robyn crowed, crossing her arms over her chest, pleased that she at least got through to her.
“Well, no, not that—I mean that too—but…” The woman’s mouth suddenly snapped shut, and she bent to rip a part of her tunic peeking out from beneath her armor to press it firmly against her shredded cheek.
From the corner of her eye, Robyn watched as Ashul’s pointed ears twitched, his head tipping toward a sound though she couldn’t hear his eyes never left the woman in front of him. Robyn strained to hear. She caught a brief, quiet murmur and the creak of the wooden barn door opening.
“Marcarus is going to be so pissed,” the fighter moaned as she refolded the soaked cloth in an attempt to find a dry spot. “I was just supposed to put the cog mare up.”
Ashul began to growl, and Robyn felt the hair on the nape of her neck stand on end as she heard the monstrously heavy footfalls hit the packed earthen floor, accompanied by a lighter tread.
“She should be right in here, Marcarus. Dorienne said that she was putting the cog mare in the barn,” Rhea chatted companionably to her companion, who responded with a deep grunt.
Goosebumps ran up Robyn’s arms as a whuffing sound followed as if something large drew in a deep breath, followed by a thunderous rumble.
“Why do I smell blood? And… Drow!” he thundered as he suddenly began to charge down the hall, the strike of his feet echoing through the barn. There was a crash as if he briefly collided with a wall as his fierce bellow made her blood run cold. That was nothing human or even vaguely similar to them. It sounded like… No, it wasn’t possible. Their kind weren’t seen so close to human lands.
“Marcarus, wait! Damn it,” the sorceress hissed as the heavy thump of footsteps raced toward them followed by her lighter tread.
Robyn was distracted from her train of thought as Ashul hissed and grabbed her up in his arms, dragging her toward the farthest corner of the room. He barely got her back into the corner when a monster that she had only seen in illustrations during her study burst through the stall entrance, his dark horns slashing the air with the deadliest of intent. There was a wildness in his eyes as he took in the sight of his companion and bellowed again as he rounded on them, removing his war-ax from its harness across his back.
Ashul stiffened at the sight of the weapon.
He launched himself forward, his leaner body moving deftly as he countered the minotaur’s broad strikes. Ducking below the swing of a massive arm, he grabbed the bull by the horns and dropped his body weight, twisting with such a speed that the minotaur, off balance, toppled, his entire body crashing to the floor just as the sorceress made an entrance, her eyes widening with surprise.
The fighter—who could only be Dorienne—immediately rushed over, dropping to the minotaur’s side, her hands grazing over his chest and shoulders worriedly.
“Marcarus! Are you okay?” she whispered.
“Oh, good. You’re not dead,” Rhea imparted flatly as she gave the couple on the floor an exasperated look. She leaned against the stall wall, her arms folding over her chest.
“He’s going to be fine as long as he calms down and doesn’t provoke the drow any further,” the sorceress said sharply, drawing Dorienne’s eyes to her before wincing at the obvious disapproval there. Rhea clucked her tongue and shook her head. “You, however, are a mess.”
“Dorienne, what is going on?” Marcarus rumbled as he slowly lifted the heft of his upper body off the ground.
“Just a misunderstanding,” Robyn soothed, as much for her own mate’s benefit as for the minotaur’s. Ashul was still agitated, his ears twitching as she took his arm and gently pulled him back away from the couple. “She tried to murder my mate on the assumption that he was attacking me while we were… ah, in the middle of mating,” Robyn explained as her mate impatiently tucked her behind him.
Dorienne reddened as the minotaur turned a disbelieving look on her. “It was a mistake,” she muttered anxiously. “I heard her cry out, and I saw him… I thought the drow was attacking her and…” Her words died on her tongue as she grimaced apologetically at Ashul. “I kind of stabbed him through the back with my sword while he was bent over her.”
“Kind of nothing,” Ashul grumbled. “She ran me through with the damn sword—which was both unnecessary and quite painful—which just adds insult to injury considering that she so rudely interrupted our mating.”
The minotaur snorted as he side-eyed his companion with disapproval. She had the grace to flush guiltily before startling.