Bred By the Satyrs (DreamTogether Breeding Program #4)

Chapter 1

One

Bree

Like I do every Thursday afternoon, I head into the yoga studio with my mat under one arm.

Most of the other students are already there, grabbing lockers and chatting.

My yoga class is mostly women, and fairly mixed between humans and monsters.

There are only two men who attend regularly—Micah, a nice older human, and then him.

Mangelli. That’s his nickname, anyway, the one he goes by at the studio. It seems to be like a football name, where his last name has been yelled so many times that everyone knows him by it. But I know his real name.

Arthur. Which maybe is also why he goes by Mangelli, because it sounds like an old guy’s name.

He’s tall, so damn tall, with those cute curly horns and goat ears sticking out of his bouncy blond hair.

Then, the big grin he gets whenever he sees someone he knows?

How his flat little nose scrunches up, his fluffy tail wags, and you can see just how not human he is?

That’s when his hooves click on the floor as he heads over to exchange a high-five.

“Hey, Bree!” Mangelli notices me just as he finishes greeting Micah. “Good to see you!”

We talk to each other every week, and every week he says the same thing. Good to see you! And he’s not the kind of guy who just says nice things for the sake of saying them. He’s genuine, if kind of dopey, like a golden retriever. So I believe he means it.

“Hey, Mangelli,” I answer, giving him a big smile. His enthusiasm for life makes me grin every time we talk. “How are you?”

“I’m awesome! You?”

“I’m okay. Work has been a pain.” I’ve had so many administrative tasks lately getting ready for tax season that I’ve barely been able to perform.

Mangelli fist-bumps me. “Ready to take it onto the mat?” he asks, as if we’re about to wrestle instead of do yoga.

I love his sense of humor. I feel like he gets me and holds nothing back.

“You’re on,” I say with a laugh.

After stuffing my things into a locker, I find Mangelli waiting for me as we head into the yoga studio, a clear question on his face.

“What’s up?” I ask as we walk through the double doors.

“Well, I could use your advice.”

I raise my brows. We’ve spoken every week for about a year now, but I didn’t think we were friends. Which is too bad. I would like to be Mangelli’s friend.

I’d like that a lot.

“What do you need advice about?”

“I’m polling my women friends. We’re talking about, um, having a fawn.”

My brain skips. A fawn?

A satyr baby, my memory supplies.

Hmm. I didn’t expect that. I know he’s married, but I thought it was to another guy.

“Oh? Who’s ‘we’?” I ask.

Mangelli rubs his hand over his face. “Me and the husbands. My herd.”

Husbands, plural?

“What’s the question?” I ask, trying to remain neutral, though I’m still reeling from the revelation that he has more than one partner—and they’re talking about having a baby.

“Do you know what DreamTogether is?”

I keep my reaction under control. I am familiar with DreamTogether, the breeding clinic for monsters who want children of their own, because I see their ads on TV all the time. Happy families with new babies, very diverse. They’re cute ads.

“Sure do. Are you thinking of going that route?”

Mangelli nods. “It’s really our best option. But would it be… weird? All three of us?”

So he has two husbands. Noted.

“At once?” I ask in a quieter voice as we spread out our mats. Other people are trickling in.

He nods again, biting his lip with his cute blunt teeth.

It is very tempting at that moment to offer myself up. I’ve wanted to fuck Mangelli’s brains out since the first time I saw him, but once I learned he was married, I tried to forget about it. Now, though, that massive crush comes roaring back, and I think my panties feel it.

“You won’t elect someone?” I ask, still barely above a whisper. “To be, you know, the father.”

“Well…” Mangelli sits down on his mat, so I do the same on mine. “We tried but couldn’t decide. Now we kind of want it to be a surprise. See what sticks.”

My mind goes absolutely fucking blank.

“Like…” I lower my voice even more, leaning toward him. “You would take turns?”

Mangelli’s eyes get bigger. They have square pupils, so unlike a human’s perfectly round ones. Then he leans toward me too and whispers, “Yeah. Exactly.”

I am definitely wet now, imagining three satyrs like Mangelli taking turns with me. Damn, I want to be that surrogate.

“I guess you would have to ask DreamTogether,” I say, stretching out my leg. “Maybe they have a policy. But that service is really expensive, isn’t it?”

Mangelli swallows. “We’re pooling together what we’ve got to see if we can swing it.”

“Might as well ask, if that’s what you want. They’ll probably say yes for the right price.”

Mangelli chuckles. “I’m glad I asked you, Bree. You have such a realistic outlook on the world. No rose-colored glasses, huh?”

I shrug as I switch which leg I’m stretching out. “Money talks, that’s all.” I wouldn’t say it out loud, but there’s a lot I’m willing to do if someone offered me enough money. That’s pretty much my job, after all.

“You don’t think it’s crazy, do you?” Mangelli asks as the teacher walks into the room. “To go to DreamTogether?”

“Not if it’s what you really want. Not if it’s worth it to you.” I put a hand on his arm, and his fur is warm to the touch. “Follow your heart. I may be a realist, but I believe in doing what’s true to you and living your fullest, realest life.”

Mangelli looks like a kid watching the most heart-wrenching part of a Disney movie.

“Thanks, Bree,” he whispers back, briefly touching my hand as the teacher calls out for us to get started. “I really appreciate that.”

We get onto our separate mats to start the class, but now I can’t think about anything else.

I need to sign up for DreamTogether.

Arthur

Bree’s a really great woman. I’ve noticed her since the first day she started coming to class last year. She’s got an amazing ass, of course. I’m an ass satyr, Bennett and Jack would both say it. I’m always squeezing or pinching a fine butt in my household.

But she’s also just got this… fire about her, I suppose, that simmers under the surface. She’s sweet and easygoing here, but I’ve always wondered what she’s like outside the yoga studio.

Not that I’ll ever know. My life is about to get very busy if we decide to go through with this. And tonight, I’m going to convince Jack and Bennett that we should. Might as well ask our question, like Bree said. The worst DreamTogether can do is say no.

Then we talk about it some more. Figure it out.

I’m buzzing the whole drive home. Our family has been dancing around the idea for so long, but I think it’s time to commit. I want a fawn with every fiber of my being. A little bouncy fawn in our home would be exactly what we need to bring even more brightness into our world.

When I pull up to the house, the lights are on inside. Bennett’s home, but based on the cars parked in the driveway, Jack isn’t yet. He’s the one who likes to stay late at work, as much as Bennett and I hound him about keeping a more regular schedule.

That’s one thing that will have to change with the fawn. The fawn. I’m already thinking about it like it’s real, like it exists. Jack has to commit to prioritizing his family rather than staying late at the office, doing things people below him should be doing.

But he cares about work in a way that I don’t. If I could stay home and be a full-time dad, that would be my dream.

Getting ahead of myself here.

I put the car in park and saunter inside the house, where I smell onions cooking. Do I get a home-cooked meal tonight?

Bennett is in the kitchen wearing only his jeans and an apron. It’s the one that says “Kiss the chef with tongue.” He leans back and waves at me through the doorway as I hang up my keys and wipe my hooves on the mat.

“Hey, honey!” he calls out, waving his spatula.

“Hey yourself.” After I’m good and clean, I sidle into the kitchen where cut vegetables are spread out across the countertops. “Making dinner?”

“Yup. Italian.”

I squeeze his ass as I go past, and his little tail wags.

“You’re in a good mood, Arthur,” Bennett remarks as he turns back to cooking.

“Well, yeah, I am. I had a think…”

“Uh oh.” Bennett scoops up the onions and tosses them into the pan. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Hey now. I’ll tell you more when Jack gets here.” I glance out the window. “When is he coming home, by the way?”

Bennett’s smile dims. “He didn’t answer my text earlier, so I’m not sure.”

“That’s strange.” Usually he at least communicates with us if he’s going to be late, which is most of the time. I pick up my phone and call him instead.

It rings three times before he picks up.

“What is it, Arthur?” Jack asks.

I wince at his impatient tone. “Just wondering when you’ll be back.”

“Wrapping something up,” he says in a softer voice. “Then I’ll be on my way.”

“Good, because Bennett’s cooking up something good and you don’t want it to be cold.”

I hang up before saying goodbye, a little peeved, and stuff my phone back in my pocket.

“What do you need me to do?” I ask Bennett, arming myself with an apron of my own.

We cook together, bumping hips when we get in each other’s way. This is what I want—endless nights like this, preparing food for our family together. I get a little shiver down my spine thinking about that future.

While we’re draining the noodles, headlights appear in the kitchen window as Jack parks his SUV in the driveway. The brown satyr stomps as he comes inside, like he always does, and hangs up his coat.

“Right on time,” I say as I turn the heat off under the sauce. Jack doesn’t say a word about being late as he joins us in the kitchen, his expression tired. I stop him with an arm on his shoulder and lean over to kiss his cheek.

“Hey,” Jack says, his shoulders relaxing. Bennett approaches and butts his forehead against Jack’s playfully.

“You’ve been working late pretty often,” Bennett says.

Jack rubs his mane. “Lot of pressure lately to get these reports out.”

I pull down the plates and hand them out as we serve ourselves. I don’t want to talk about reports tonight, though. I have bigger plans.

Once we’re all served and the scent of steaming garlic bread is filling up the dining room, I finally can’t help myself any longer.

“I want to sign up with DreamTogether,” I say abruptly, interrupting whatever Bennett was saying about his workday.

Jack sits up straighter. “What?”

“Well, we’ve been talking about it for weeks now, and I think we should just take the leap and do it.”

Jack sits there silently, considering, but Bennett jumps right in.

“The way we talked about?” he asks, pushing his glasses up his nose eagerly. “All three of us at once?”

I nod. “Might as well ask. No way we could find someone outside DreamTogether willing to do that.”

Jack nods slowly, his eyes still on the table. He’s always been a thinker, the type to mull through every facet of something before saying his piece. Bennett, on the other hand…

“I’m in,” Bennett says, a smile lighting up his face. “I think you’re right, Arthur. We should just go through with it. We can afford it.”

“Can we?” Jack asks. Both Bennett and I settle back in our seats. “It will drain our savings.”

“So?” I say. “That’s what savings are for. To get the life you want.”

“And that’s the life you want?” Jack shoots back.

I furrow my brow, wondering why he’s being defensive when it was his idea.

He said it one day over a dinner much like this, when Bennett was lamenting how he wanted to start a family but didn’t know how.

Jack had gotten annoyed, saying we could do it without bringing a woman into our herd. Then he suggested DreamTogether.

“Everything okay, Jack?” I ask. “You were the one who wanted to go this route.”

He sighs. “I know. But which one of us is going to leave their job to be home with the fawn?”

I raise my hand. “Me. It’s me.”

Bennett cocks his head. “Being a stay-at-home dad isn’t easy.”

“I know. But I want to do it.”

With a shake of his head, Jack lets out a long exhale. “All right, fine. Ask DreamTogether. And tell them we understand it may come with extra fees.”

A wave of giddy anticipation washes over me. They want to do it. I’ll finally get that family I’ve been dreaming of.

“Great.” I slap the table. “I’ll make the call tomorrow.”