Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
Durom
Kyle was a human, a mundane one at that, judging by the red jacket he wore.
He was small for a human, and the jacket was baggy on his frame, hiding his body.
His hair was short and shaggy, light brown, a look I'd seen on several mundanes who had come to the school with clean cuts and hadn't found the time or talent for another proper grooming.
He had no hair on his lip or chin, his eyes were green, and his skin was pale, like he had spent more time in the depths of the Dungeon than out in the surface farms.
I wasn't expecting a male. I had never mounted one before and always assumed my mate would be female, as that was who I was most attracted to. I wasn't opposed, just surprised.
But it was clear now what had been missing from his scent.
This human had the mate smell, but was missing the rest of the identifiers. He didn't smell male or female and lacked a specific species scent as well. He looked like a mundane, but he very well could be a shifter in disguise, or even an Aos sí with the tips of his ears cut off.
I frowned, examining the lack of any discernible hair on his face.
"Are you an adult?" I asked. He had to be, because the mate scent did not develop until well into a person’s maturity. The years before it developed were considered a time to explore and learn about one's desires before the mate scent brought about the time for settling and breeding.
"Yes," Kyle said, his voice soft and high as he stepped out of the chest. He cleared his throat, and his voice dropped a few levels, as if he was forcing it deeper. "Are you?"
"My name is Durom, and I am a sexually mature male of breeding age," I said. "You are scrawny, have no facial hair, and smell strange. Here, eat."
I picked up one of the bowls and held it out to him.
He came forward and took it from me, stepping back out of my reach the moment his slender fingers curled around the edges of the bowl.
He wasn't wearing any boots.
I frowned down at the socks on his feet.
This was extremely irritating. Not only did he look immature for a male, which was alarming and off-putting, but he was also missing basic protective gear.
He had no armor, no boots, no weapons. How had someone so badly equipped gotten this far into the Dungeon?
"Where are your shoes?" I asked.
"In the chest," he said as he sat down on a stool on the far side of the fire. "I took them off so I would move more quietly."
That explained why it was so hard to hear him while I was tracking him in the maze. If it wasn't for his scent, as empty as it was, I would have had trouble herding him in here.
I grunted, then took a big spoonful of my stew, hoping it would calm down my agitation.
Even if he was a normal human, barring a naga, this was still the worst possible mate I could have scented.
Mundane humans were fragile, traumatized creatures kept and abused as slaves.
Chasing and rutting one would be unthinkable.
Kyle made a happy sound as he dug into the stew, eating bite after bite with enthusiasm.
I was going to have to reject my mate.
I groaned and put my hand over my face at the thought.
"Are you alright?" Kyle asked.
I rubbed my forehead, massaging in between my horns as I tried to work out the tension between what my body wanted to do and what I was going to do.
"I have to get you back to the surface where it is safe," I said. "You can't stay here."
Even as I said it, the words felt wrong. Sending my mate back up to that school wouldn't keep him safe. The Dungeon was the only safe place on this entire campus.
The human looked shocked, like he was trying to process one life-upending event after another. I knew exactly how he felt.
"Why?" he asked.
"You have the mate scent," I said. "But you are a mundane. I will be frightening to you."
"You aren’t frightening me now," Kyle said, studying me. Then a deluge of questions burst forth from him, as if released by the strain of his emotional reaction. "Why are you feeding me? How long have minotaurs been able to talk? Why would the Orcs be safe? Why aren't you trying to kill me?"
"You have the mate scent," I said, relief washing over me with the knowledge that he thought he could handle the rut. Now that I had scented him, letting him go would be torture.
"What does that even mean?" Kyle demanded.
"It means you run," I said as I stood up. “Then I mount you.”
Kyle coughed for a moment as he inhaled a small portion of his soup. It took him a few moments to clear his lungs, and by the time he did, the look in his eye was wild and wary as I loomed over him.
"I can't run," Kyle asked, forehead wrinkling as he leaned back in his seat to look up at me, his eyes darting towards where the vines blocked the door.
I took a few steps back so that he didn't have to strain his neck to get a good view of me, and his shoulders relaxed. "There isn't anywhere to run to."
"I didn't want to risk you triggering my rut until we had spoken," I said. "So I herded you in here so we could talk. I can open the way if you are ready?"
"That was considerate of you," Kyle said, his voice strained and high-pitched. "Why don’t we keep talking for a bit?"
He was hesitant. His scent coiled in my mind, insistent with the subtle heat of the glorious fury that was yet to come. How could I make him more comfortable?
He was an adult male mundane, and he wasn’t frightened of me. Males of any kind preferred directness, like other minotaurs.
I put my hand on my kilt.
"Do you wish to see?" I said. "I can display for you. That will be clear."
"Any clarity would help at this point," Kyle said.
I pulled off my kilt, showing the raging hardness, throbbing with the inspiration of his mate's scent.
I positioned myself where he could get a good view of the full length of me and flexed so that the firelight highlighted all of my attributes.
"You have the mate scent which has excited me to readiness.
The chase will trigger my rut, and I will mount you. It is simple."
"Simple," Kyle repeated, his eyes wide as he stared at my body.
"Do you like it?" I asked, reaching out to take hold of myself. I gave it a few strokes, letting it swell so he could see the impressive size of it. "I have not mounted a male before, so before you run, you must tell me the best way to please you. I will remember even if in the rut state."
"What happens after your... rut?" Kyle said, his voice high-pitched and breathy as he stared at the way my hand moved along my length.
"We will live together," I said. "You have the mate scent. We will do well. Mate pairings are happy pairings. I will feed you and teach you how to live down here, and you will find a purpose that suits you. If you don't wish to be here, but you wish to be with me, I will follow as far as I can."
The human closed his eyes for a long moment and took a deep breath.
"To be clear, you are saying that you want to chase me, fuck me, and then shack up with me?" he said, a strange quiver in his voice. "Because I smell like your mate. What if I don't want to do any of that?"
I paused the movement of my hand.
Perhaps I had been a little too premature in displaying myself. I thought that a male mate would want to see what I would impale him with, and the thought of that would excite him enough to agree. Time to figure out another approach.
I picked up my kilt and wrapped it back around myself, then sat down to continue working on my stew.
"Don't run," I said. "If you don't wish to be mounted, don't run. Eat, rest, and I will show you the way out of the maze if that is where you wish to go."
Kyle's eyes opened as he stared back at me.
"That simple?" he asked.
I nodded.
This was the problem with mundanes. They were so used to everything being a trick or a trap that they didn’t trust or understand how easy it could be.
If he didn't want a minotaur for a mate, then his leaving here was the best possible thing for both of us. Mating wasn’t about forcing someone to be with you when they didn’t want to be.
No sensible person would ever want anything like that.
"That simple," I said.