Chapter One
Evelyn
The Promnestride was coming up and I’d never wanted anything to do with it.
It was a huge part of the Minotaurian culture; a selection of bulls racing through a maze, all trying to catch the runner, a woman, inside. First one to catch the runner got to claim the spoils, which was the runner herself.
Granted, most runners knew what they were signing up for and relished it. They wanted the chase, to be hunted down and claimed in such a primal fashion with a hot, heavy, panting minotaur tearing through their skirt and slamming a massive cock home.
I’d always hated it, never wanted anything to do with it, hadn’t even enjoyed watching it from a sport level.
Yet here I was, submitting my name in the pool in hopes of being selected for this year’s race.
I had a decent shot, being human. Not many humans participated—minotaurs were huge, and the risk of tearing was almost guaranteed—and the audience really liked seeing that classic story of a small human woman ravaged by a huge bull at the end of the chase.
The winning minotaur got the fuck of his life, bragging rights as champion for a year, and automatically qualified for the next year.
Most times, they got to take the runner home for extended fun and those flings usually lasted a bit until the next year rolled around.
The runner, though, won a cash prize in exchange for her service.
And I was in desperate need of cash.
“Evelyn Tucker?”
I stood, catching the eye of the nurse holding the clipboard with my paperwork on it, and followed her out of the waiting room and into the hallway.
My height and weight were recorded first, nothing surprising even if there was a raised eyebrow from the nurse as she wrote down my weight, and I followed her back into one of the patient rooms.
Part of the application included a full screening. They wanted to make sure their runners were in good health, mentally sound, and prepared for the strenuous activity with minimal consequences.
And mostly safe for the competitors to fuck.
It went mostly by rote. Physical health?
Check. Birth control? Check. Mentally sound?
Check. STI panel? I shouldn’t have been nervous, but I didn’t know how many people Killian had fucked over the span of our relationship and I wasn’t stupid enough to believe the affair I caught was the only one that happened.
I could only hope the asshole had some fucking decency and, thankfully, the panel came back clean.
So maybe I was fudging a little on the ‘mentally sound’ part of the exam, but I needed the money.
I had to get out. Killian lost his mind when he found my escape stash a couple months ago, and it had been…
well, terrifying. He wouldn’t leave me alone, wouldn’t even let me go to work, said that we needed to spend time together to fix the distance in our relationship and he wanted us both to put in the effort.
I’d been playing nice since. I knew he had a work trip coming up and I needed him to trust me, or at least trust his manipulations enough to leave me home.
For someone so set on fucking anything that breathed in his direction, he was trying to hold onto me as hard as he could.
Guess he never thought I’d actually leave.
Didn’t matter. The Promnestride was a good start.
If I were chosen, I’d have enough money to get the fuck out of here and have some security while I was at it.
Most of the minotaurs wouldn’t mind helping me after the race.
The athletic ones typically liked the showboating that came from helping a poor, defenseless little runner escape her awful, terrible home life.
Ugh, I was going to make myself throw up. Fuck Killian for making me need anyone to escape him.
“Alright, Miss Tucker,” the nurse said as she gathered the swabs and blood samples needed for the tests. “Someone will be in shortly for your urine sample.”
Honestly, I was surprisingly pleased. This was far more organized than I’d ever guessed. If you’d asked me how they chose runners half a year ago, I would have guessed they plucked someone off the street at random and plopped them at the start of the maze like they did in barbaric times.
Obviously, they’d had some upgrades. Good to see those upgrades were keeping up with the times—and that I might have been a judgmental bitch about it for longer than I want to admit.
I was well aware of the hypocrisy coming off me in waves, considering I flipped from hating everything about this to wanting to be chosen for cash, but there was nothing else I could do.
And if I were chosen, I’d definitely have my punishment fucked into me for the whole crowd to see, so I considered that my public apology.
A knock came from the door, and another nurse walked in, ducking under the doorway to keep from catching the frame with his horns. “Evelyn Tucker?”
“That’s me.”
“Here’s everything you need for the urine sample.
” He held out a clear bag with two cups inside.
“We only need you to fill one of these, but there’s an extra one in case you need it.
Make sure it’s filled past the line and then you’ll take it to the desk.
I’ll point it out while we’re walking to the restroom. Any questions?”
“Just one cup filled past the line,” I repeated, a habit I’d picked up after living with a gaslighter. “Then it goes to the desk that you’ll point out.”
“Got it in one.” His smile was easy, his eyes kind, and I just wished I had made different choices in the past. A kind minotaur was the best thing I’d ever experienced, and if I hadn’t fucked it up, I never would have landed in Killian’s grasp.
“Follow me. If this goes quickly, you’ll be out in no time. ”
It went smoothly. I was able to give the urine sample, labeled with my patient information on the side, and then I was escorted into another room, not quite set up for medical patients, but definitely a private waiting room.
Was there a second mental health screening? Something else we haven’t done yet?
Did they catch on that I was lying through my teeth at having a sane reason to do this?
I wasn’t left waiting for long, only a handful of minutes before there was a knock at the door. Another minotaur opened the door, an older one with gray starting to grow on his muzzle near his nostrils. He was well dressed in a tan suit that complemented the brown coloring of his fur perfectly.
“Miss Tucker?” he asked, his voice resonant and formal.
“Yes?”
He stepped in, closing the door behind him, and took a seat across from me. “I’m Rufus Lumberan, Director of Events at Crete International, and chairman of the Promnestride Race.”
I didn’t know him, or much of Crete, but I was aware enough to know that he held the chance of me winning that money in his hands. “Hello, Mr. Lumberan.”
He waved his hand. “Rufus is fine, please.”
I nodded. “Rufus.”
That seemed to please him, judging from the small smile he gave me, and he took a small pair of reading glasses from his jacket pocket and put them on. Pulling a folder tucked underneath his arm, he flipped it open. “I wanted to chat with you before you left. Your application was very intriguing.”
“I hope that’s a good thing,” I said, feigning laughter. Please don’t tell me Killian already found out.
“We don’t often get human applications, even less from such small ones.” He shot me a look over the rim of his glasses. “Pardon the crassness of the topic, but it is notable that your dimensions are much coveted for the enjoyment of the participants and spectators.”
Translation? I was short and had a fat ass, and every single person would look forward to seeing said ass hiked up in the air.
“I’m aware,” I said, trying to fight my mortification at the topic. “I did a little research before applying.”
I sure as hell did not. Everything I’d learned about the Promnestride had been against my will; the consequence of bartending in a minotaur-friendly bar for a number of years.
“Then you’ll know that as long as we receive a full bill of health, you’ll be invited to participate.”
I nodded, tucking my shaking fingers under my thighs.
Rufus flicked through the papers. “Is this your first time applying?”
“Yes.”
“And you know what is entailed?”
“Yes, sir.”
The silence between us stretched until I couldn’t take it anymore. “With all due respect, please just ask your questions. I’m signing up to be hunted down and fucked in an arena in exchange for a predetermined amount of money. You can speak plainly.”
Rufus’s mouth split into a sheepish grin, and his ears wiggled, something I’d learned some minotaurs do when embarrassed. “We want the best for all of our participants, and you’re very small. Are you sure this is something you’re capable of?”
Ah. “I dated a minotaur a few years ago,” I clarified. “I know how to prepare.”
He nodded. “Is there anything that could prevent you from participating?”
I stilled, not having expected this question. “What do you mean?”
“Any issues your job might have, family members, significant others?”
My mouth turned to ash.
“It is always your prerogative to withdraw at any time leading up to the start of the race,” Rufus continued, studying me with a sharp look in his eye, “but we would like to be prepared if there is anything we could do to prevent foreseen circumstances.”
“No,” I answered as honestly as I could.
Sure, Killian could try to prevent me from participating, but he had another work trip coming up at the time of the race, so as long as I continued playing nice in the interim, it wouldn’t be a problem.
“I have nothing that would prevent me from participating.”
I mean, maybe. If Killian kicked the bucket, I wouldn’t have to, but that wasn’t something to count on.
Rufus nodded. “Alright, Miss Tucker. You’ve answered all my questions. Do you have any of your own?”
I shook my head.
“It was nice meeting you. You’ll be hearing from us by the end of the week.”