Chapter 5
Katie
Aviper, he called me. I feel a small sense of smugness beneath the adrenaline coursing through my veins.
That’s right, I am a viper, and I’ll stab him again if I get another chance.
My hand slowly reaches out to the knife that lies discarded on the stone floor near where I fell when he shoved me, right after he sniffed me. What is with that, anyway?
“Y-you can talk?” I try to hide the wobble in my voice while I distract him from my wandering hand.
If he suspects I’m going for the knife again, I’ll be for-sure-dead.
He glares at me and clenches his fists at his side, and I am acutely aware of how large they are.
Easily the size of my head. He could likely snap my neck without even breaking a sweat.
There are more monsters here than I originally thought.
This one, however, is different from the others.
He towers over me with thick arms and legs covered in a short layer of golden-brown fur.
The only clothing he wears is a loincloth around his waist, exposing the rippling muscles of his stomach and the gold rings through each of his nipples.
My hands tremble in fear, and I squeeze them tight, willing them to stop.
The only thing more disconcerting than a monster with nipple rings is that his very buff human-like body morphs into a very inhuman-like head.
A thick snout, complete with a golden nose ring to match, horns that curl above his head, dark-brown eyes, and more golden rings in his ears.
The fur that covers his entire body is darkened with water, slicking it tight to his skin.
“Well, I did not moo,” he growls at me, and I flinch, the reaction an involuntary habit. As much as I try to be brave, I don’t think I’ll ever lose that.
“How come I can understand you, when I couldn’t understand those lizard monsters?” I swallow thickly, unsure if it’s a nervous sweat that trickles down the side of my face or the remnants of water in my hair.
My fingers wrap around the hilt of my pocketknife, and I clench it tightly. The beast cocks his head to the side, and I think he’s spotted the knife in my hand.
“The spring.” He grunts, tilting his head toward the hot spring on the floor.
“Ah, yes. The spring. That explains everything. How silly of me,” I mutter, deadpan.
Ignoring me, he continues, his voice rising in a growl.
“You speak of the Drakons. Is this some sort of joke to them? They thought to dump you like a lost little rabbit in my labyrinth, hoping I would hunt you down, and what? Kill you? Eat you?” He begins to pace in front of me, his fists clenched at his sides.
Steam rises from his nostrils the angrier he gets.
Hang on a minute, I don’t like the sound of that last part. I thought I had avoided being the lizard monsters’—Drakons’—meal, and now it looks like I’m right back at square one.
He stops in front of me and snarls in my face. “Do they know you are my mate?”
I flinch away from him. Actually, you know what? Kill me and eat me. Being a mate, whatever that is, sounds way worse.
Not one to waste an opportunity of having him so close, I swipe at him with the knife, a thin pink gash opening on his cheek.
“WOULD YOU STOP TRYING TO STAB ME!” he roars, grabbing my wrist and yanking me to my feet, my toes scrabbling on the stone as he holds me just shy of being able to find purchase.
“Put me down!” I whimper back at him, trying to pull my arm free from his iron-like hold. “You’re hurting me!”
“You stabbed me! Twice! Do you know what I do with snakes that bite?” His voice is dangerously low. Goose pimples prickle along my skin. “I snap them in half and eat them for dinner.”
“I won’t let you eat me!” I screech, twisting and kicking with all my might against this beast.
He snorts, as if me being able to stop him from doing anything is a ridiculous concept, but he lets me drop to the ground.
“Then do not give me a reason to.”
He’s right in my face again, brown eyes glittering like gold under the twinkling glow-worms. I gulp. Twice, I’ve been thwarted now. The next time I try it, I’ll make sure he doesn’t see it coming. I fold the knife away, slip it in my pocket, and raise my hands in surrender.
“Fine,” I grumble. “I won’t stab you, and you won’t eat me. How’s that?”
He snorts in what I assume is acceptance of my offer.
We both eye each other warily as I nurse my aching and abused wrist while he fingers the slice across his cheek.
“Dip your wrist in the spring. It will heal you.” He nods to my wrist, then looks away quickly, avoiding eye contact. It’s almost as if he feels guilty about hurting me. The thought makes me snort. Yeah, right. He’s probably mad about not taking the opportunity to ‘snap it in half’.
A magically translating and healing hot pool is about as believable as the monsters walking around, so of course, I do as he says.
I kneel on the edge of the stone and lean over, dipping my wrist in the warm water.
The ache fades away on a sigh, the angry red skin turning pink and then pale again.
The beast also steps into the hot spring and submerges his back, healing the knife wound there.
We don’t let each other out of our sights, like a lion and an antelope settling on an uneasy truce to drink at the same watering hole.
I tense, my body coiled tight like a spring.
He splashes his face with warm water, the pink line on his cheek sealing itself back together.
As soon as the water hits his face, I’m up and running.
I hear him bellow and curse, but it’s too late. The cavern is already behind me.
I feel a lot better after my dip in the hot spring, despite having wet clothes again. At least this time they’re not crusted and stiff with sand. The ground beneath me rumbles as the beast gives chase.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mutter between panting breaths as my feet pound in time with my heartbeat. The tunnel to my right is lighter than the tunnel on my left, and I swerve down that path, hoping I’ve found my way back to the cave opening I began at.
As I breach the entrance, I find myself in a large cavern, the rocky ceiling forming a dome high above me, littered with so many glow worms it’s as if someone has turned on a light switch.
I skid to a halt, partly in awe and shock at the sudden change, blinking away the black spots that dance in my vision.
When I can see clearly, I notice a rustic mud-brick hut at the center of the cavern.
A doorway and window have been carved out of the wall, revealing the inside to be dark and empty of its occupants.
Or should I say occupant, as I realize exactly who lives here.
Beside the hut, a small vegetable garden sits with trellises standing tall, green vines wrapped around them and flowing over the edge of their containment.
I approach the garden, my fingers tracing over prickly leaves as I walk around it.
The monster gardens? It’s a curious realization that the big, scary beast seems to be domesticated enough to keep a home and garden and is not just some monster who sleeps on the floor in a dank cave somewhere.
It’s as if my thoughts summon him as he comes barreling through the same tunnel I vacated only moments prior, interrupting my pondering about what sort of being he is as he charges directly for me, bent at the waist, his horns aimed for my throat.
With a squeak, I scramble for an exit and am met with at least twenty of them lining the walls of the cavern.
Which one do I pick? I spin in circles, panic clouding any decision-making skills I have.
Before I can decide, the beast collides with my body, and it feels like I’ve been hit by a car.
My breath escapes in a gasp upon impact before I hit the ground front on, strong arms banded around my face and body to protect me from the worst of it.
His nose is tucked in the crook of my neck, his horns buried into the dirt floor on either side of my head.
I freeze in shock, with his body pressed firmly against my back, our heavy pants mingling.
“Do. Not. Move.” His breath is ragged and hot against my cheek as he bites out the words.
I’m trapped in this cage his body has made around me.
I don’t think I can move even if I wanted to.
I don’t even have the words to protest; my brain has not yet caught up with my body.
I feel something thick and hard against the back of my leg, turning my blood ice cold.
The sensitive spot between my legs begins to throb.
“Is that your di—?” I begin to hiss, rubbing my thighs together from the unusually timed flood of heat that pools at my core.
“Not. Yet,” he grunts out. “If you move, I will not be able to stop myself. Please,” he pleads, pain laced around every word.
Used to obeying, I do as I’m told. I don’t think I want to find out what it is he’s trying to stop himself from doing. I remain frozen, both of us lying there in silence for so long, the tension melts out of our limbs. Our body heat melds us together until a thin sheen of sweat covers my skin.
He groans into my neck, the hard length twitching against my leg as he breathes in my scent.
“Why do you smell so Fates-damned good?” He bites it out like I’m doing it on purpose, but I don’t know what he’s talking about because, quite frankly, I stink.