Bound Beneath His Horns

I was never supposed to end up here — chained, filthy, paraded through a foreign city as a spoil of war.

But the orcs didn’t kill me. They gifted me.

To him.

Remanos Ironhide. Champion of Milthar. A minotaur built like a mountain and twice as silent.

He didn’t ask for me. I didn’t choose him.

But now the Senate says I belong to him — some twisted tradition, an offering for peace.

He says I’m under his protection.

But this isn’t protection. It’s a prettier cage.

And the worst part? I keep watching him. The way his muscles move beneath bronze. The way he growls when the Senate calls me a prize.

He says he won’t touch me unless I ask.

I won’t ask. I won’t.

I can’t fall for the monster who holds my leash….

Even if part of me already has.

Read on for: war spoils, forced proximity, sacred oaths, slow-burn monster tension, and a champion who kneels to no one — except her. HEA guaranteed.