Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Iburst through the library’s staff entrance the next morning like a woman possessed.
My feet barely touched the ground as I floated down the hallway, my mind still swimming in the intoxicating memories of the previous night.
Every time I closed my eyes, even for a blink, I could feel the press of Rion’s lips against mine, the surprising softness of his fur beneath my fingertips, the impossible gentleness of his massive hands as they cradled my face.
I kissed a minotaur. A minotaur kissed me back. And it was absolutely glorious.
I caught sight of my reflection in the darkened computer screen—cheeks flushed, eyes bright, hair slightly disheveled despite my best efforts with a brush this morning.
I looked… different. Not just happy, but transformed somehow.
As if the universe had shifted slightly on its axis, and I along with it.
“Well, well, well,” came Brenda’s voice from behind me. “Someone’s in a good mood this morning.”
I spun around, nearly knocking over a stack of returns in my haste. Brenda stood in the doorway of the break room, coffee mug in hand, eyebrows raised in amused curiosity.
“Morning,” I chirped, wincing internally at how transparent I must seem.
“Uh-huh.” She took a slow sip of her coffee, studying me over the rim of her mug. “You want to tell me why you’re practically levitating, or should I guess?”
I glanced around the empty break room, then at my watch. We still had twenty minutes before the library opened.
“Is anyone else here yet?”
Brenda shook her head. “Just us chickens. Anna called in sick, and Paul doesn’t start until ten.” Her eyes narrowed with interest. “Why? Do you have a secret?” She drew out the last word teasingly.
“I do, actually.” I bit my lip, suddenly nervous despite my certainty that Brenda was the one person I could trust with this. “A big one.”
Brenda’s expression shifted from playful to concerned. She set her coffee down and pulled out a chair at the small break room table. “Sit. Talk. Is everything okay?”
“We kissed,” I blurted out, unable to contain the giddy smile that spread across my face at the admission. “Last night. And it was… Brenda, it was amazing.”
For a long moment, Brenda just stared at me. Then, to my immense relief, her face broke into a wide grin.
“Holy shit, Clara!” She leaned forward, lowering her voice even though we were alone. “You and an actual minotaur? That’s… that’s incredible! I mean, I’ve heard of people dating werewolves, even the occasional vampire, but a minotaur? They’re super rare!”
I blinked, taken aback by her immediate acceptance. “You’re not… freaked out?”
“Freaked out? Are you kidding?” She looked genuinely thrilled.
“This is the most exciting thing that’s happened in this town since Mrs. Henderson’s cat got stuck in the Christmas tree during the holiday festival!
” Her expression softened. “But more importantly, you look happier than I’ve seen you in… well, maybe ever.”
The knot of tension in my chest dissolved. I hadn’t realized how worried I’d been about Brenda’s reaction until I felt the relief wash over me.
“I am happy,” I admitted. “But also terrified and confused and… I don’t know, Brenda. Is this crazy? Dating a minotaur?”
“Honey, dating anyone is crazy,” Brenda said pragmatically. “At least with a minotaur, you know what you’re getting into right from the start.”
I laughed, grateful for her practical perspective. “I guess that’s true.”
“So tell me everything,” she insisted, settling back in her chair with her coffee. “And I mean everything. What’s it like kissing someone with horns? Do they get in the way?”
The laughter bubbled up from deep in my chest, releasing the last of my nervousness. “Well, the horns are actually really… nice.” I felt my cheeks heat at the admission. “They’re smooth and warm, and they curve up so perfectly that they don’t interfere at all.”
“Fascinating,” Brenda murmured, clearly filing this information away. “And the rest? I mean, is he… you know… proportional?” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
“Brenda!” I squeaked, my face now burning. “We just kissed! I haven’t… we haven’t…”
She held up her hands in surrender, though her eyes still danced with mischief. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop. For now.” She took another sip of coffee. “And you’re taking things slow?”
“I think he needs time. He’s used to people being afraid of him.”
Understanding flickered across Brenda’s face. “That must be hard for him.”
“It is,” I said softly. “He’s spent most of his life in isolation because of it. That’s why he built his home the way he did—it’s like this incredible labyrinth, designed to keep the world out as much as to express his creativity.”
“A labyrinth?” Brenda’s eyes widened. “Like in the myth?”
I nodded. “Although his is beautiful and welcoming, not a prison. It’s the most amazing place I’ve ever seen.”
“And he let you in,” Brenda observed, her voice gentle. “That’s significant, Clara.”
“I know,” I whispered, feeling the weight of that trust settle over me like a warm blanket. “I think that’s what makes this all so intense. It’s not just that he’s different physically. It’s that he’s trusting me with something he rarely shares with anyone.”
Brenda reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re handling this remarkably well. Most people would be a lot more freaked out.”
I squeezed back, grateful for her support. “I’m still processing it all, to be honest. But when I’m with him… it just feels right, you know? Like the most natural thing in the world.”
“Love often does,” Brenda said simply.
My heart skipped at the word. “I didn’t say—”
“You didn’t have to.” Her smile was knowing. “It’s written all over your face, honey.”
Was it love? The word both thrilled and terrified me.
It seemed too soon, too significant to attach to these new, overwhelming feelings.
And yet, when I thought about Rion—his gentle strength, his quiet dignity, the way his dark eyes softened when they met mine—something inside me resonated with certainty.
“I don’t know if it’s love yet,” I said carefully. “But it’s definitely heading in that direction.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, you’re not alone in dating someone… non-human,” Brenda said, finishing her coffee. “You know Dr. Mercer, the veterinarian?”
I nodded, confused by the apparent change of subject.
“His wife is a werewolf,” Brenda stated matter-of-factly. “Has been for years. They met when she brought in her actual dog for shots, if you can believe it.”
My mouth fell open. “Dr. Mercer is married to a werewolf? How did I not know this?”
Brenda shrugged. “It’s not exactly a secret, but they’re pretty low-key about it. She only transforms during the full moon, and they’ve got a special room in their basement for those nights.” She laughed at my expression. “Close your mouth, Clara. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I just… I had no idea,” I stammered.
“And you know the bakery on Elm Street? The one with those amazing cream puffs?”
I nodded, still reeling from the revelation about Dr. Mercer.
“The owner is a changeling,” Brenda continued. “Left by faeries when she was a baby. It’s why her pastries are so supernaturally good—literally.”
My mind was spinning. “How do you know all this?”
“I pay attention,” Brenda said simply. “Plus, my cousin dated a vampire for a while in college. Not the sparkly kind, the real deal. It didn’t work out—scheduling conflicts, you know, with him being nocturnal—but it opened my eyes to how many non-humans are actually integrated into society.”
“But Rion said minotaurs are extremely rare,” I pointed out. “He thinks he might be the only one in this part of the country.”
“That may well be true,” Brenda acknowledged.
“Certain types of monsters—sorry, non-humans—are definitely more common than others. Werewolves and vampires are practically mainstream these days. But the rarer kinds tend to keep to themselves more. It makes sense, if you think about it. The more unusual you are, the harder it is to blend in.”
I thought about Rion’s towering height, his magnificent horns, the fur that covered his powerful body. Even with his talent for architecture and his brilliant mind, there was no way he could ever “blend in” the way a werewolf might between transformations.
“He’s built his entire life around avoiding people,” I said quietly. “His home is remote, he works alone, he barely goes out in public. And when he does, he tries to hide as much as possible.”
Brenda’s expression grew serious. “That’s a lonely existence.”
“It is,” I agreed, feeling a renewed surge of protectiveness towards Rion. “And I think… I think that’s why our connection feels so significant. It’s not just about attraction or compatibility. It’s about him finding someone who sees him—really sees him—and doesn’t run away.”
“And you finding someone who appreciates you for exactly who you are,” Brenda added gently.
I smiled, touched by her insight. “Yeah, that too.”
“So,” Brenda leaned forward again, her eyes bright with curiosity, “when do I get to meet him? Properly, I mean. Not just as the guy helping around the library, but as your minotaur boyfriend.”
My smile faltered slightly. “That’s… complicated. He’s still really hesitant about meeting new people, especially as… himself. Without all the concealing clothes and hats, I mean.”
“He’s met me before,” Brenda pointed out.
“I know, but that was different. He was in his ‘disguise,’ and it was a professional context.” I sighed, remembering the conversation Rion and I had had via text that morning. “I asked him if he’d like to meet you properly, and he was… politely evasive.”
“Ah,” Brenda nodded understandingly. “Bad experiences in the past?”
“Really bad,” I confirmed. “He didn’t go into details, but I got the impression that the few times he’s tried to socialize with humans, it hasn’t ended well.”
“That sucks,” Brenda said bluntly. “But I get it. It’s hard enough putting yourself out there romantically without adding ‘mythological creature’ to the mix.”
“Exactly,” I said, relieved that she understood. “I’m not pushing him on it. I think just having one person he can be himself with is a big step for him.”
“And what about your family?” she asked carefully. “Are you planning to tell them about him?”
The question sent a small jolt of anxiety through me. My parents were liberal, open-minded people, but this would be a lot for anyone to process.
“Eventually,” I said. “But not yet. We’re still figuring this out ourselves. I don’t want to overwhelm him with family introductions when we’re just starting to explore what we have together.”
“Smart,” she approved. “Take it slow. Build trust. All the relationship advice columns say the same thing, monster boyfriend or not.”
I laughed, grateful for her ability to normalize even the most unusual situations. “Thanks, Brenda. For understanding. For not thinking I’ve lost my mind.”
“Oh, I definitely think you’ve lost your mind,” she teased. “But in the best possible way.” Her expression softened. “Seriously though, Clara. I’m happy for you. Anyone who makes you glow like this is all right in my book, horns and all.”
The warmth of her acceptance washed over me, solidifying my own feelings. Sharing this secret—speaking it aloud, having it validated by someone I trusted—made it more real somehow. Not just a dream or a fantasy, but my actual life.
I was dating a minotaur. An incredible, gentle, brilliant minotaur who looked at me like I was something precious and kissed me like I was something necessary.
The library’s front door chimed, signaling the arrival of our first patron of the day. Brenda glanced at her watch and stood up.
“Duty calls,” she said. “But this conversation is not over. I want more details—the G-rated ones, at least—whenever you’re ready to share them.”
I nodded, rising from my chair with a lightness that made me feel as though I might float right up to the ceiling. “Thanks, Brenda. For everything.”
“That’s what friends are for,” she replied with a wink. “Supporting each other through thick and thin, human boyfriends and minotaur boyfriends alike.”
As she headed towards the front desk, I pulled out my phone, unable to resist sending Rion a quick text.
Thinking about you. Last night was amazing. Can’t wait to see you again.
I hesitated, then added a single red heart emoji before hitting send.
His reply came faster than I expected, making my heart leap.
I’ve thought of little else. When are you free next?
No emoji from him, but I could practically hear the warmth in his deep voice. I smiled, typing back:
Tomorrow night? I could come to you this time.
I’d barely set my phone down when it vibrated with his response.
I’ll make dinner. 7pm?
A flutter of anticipation filled my chest. Dinner at Rion’s labyrinth. Another step forward in whatever this was becoming between us.
Perfect. I’ll bring dessert.
This time when I tucked my phone away, I felt a profound sense of rightness settle over me.
For the first time in my life, I felt like I was exactly where I was meant to be, headed exactly where I was meant to go.
The future stretched before me, no longer a series of predictable days in my comfortable but uneventful life, but a landscape of exciting possibilities.
And at the center of it all was Rion—complex, guarded, magnificent Rion—who had somehow found his way into my life through a misdirected text and into my heart through his quiet strength and unexpected gentleness.
Whatever challenges lay ahead—Rion’s reluctance to socialize, the inevitable complications of dating someone so different from me, the eventual conversations with my family—they seemed manageable when weighed against the connection we were building.