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“Stop, Jorgan!”
As if gripped by an invisible hand, the guard was jerked backward, nearly hitting the wall opposite Sofie’s cell. Sofie cursed, watching as a male minotaur stepped into view.
This one was larger than Jorgan with long black hair that was braided to fall between his impressive set of horns. His face was shaven and remarkably clean while his massive body was covered by a long leather coat and pants that were thick enough to provide protection. The biggest difference between the two minotaurs, however, was the glitter of intelligence in the second male’s eyes.
He wouldn’t be easily tricked or manipulated. Sofie cursed again as the male moved to tower over Jorgan.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Jorgan performed an awkward bow. “Commander Stavros.”
“I should have known you couldn’t be trusted with the prisoner.”
Sofie wasn’t surprised the leather-clad male was a commander. He carried himself with an unmistakable air of authority.
Jorgan hunched his shoulders, trying to pretend he wasn’t intimidated, his expression peevish.
“She’s here, isn’t she?”
Stavros pointed a finger toward the cell. “With your spear. How did she get it?”
“That wasn’t my fault.”
The commander made a sound of fierce exasperation, waving his hand toward the other male.
“Go away.”
Jorgan wasn’t overly bright, but he had enough brains to realize that his best option was to flee before he was punished. Still hunched over, he scurried out of sight. Like a rat jumping from a sinking ship.
Sofie dismissed the coward from her mind as she studied her newest threat. And he was a threat, she grimly acknowledged. If she intended to try to overpower him she would have to do it quickly. The silver collar would soon have her too weakened to fight.
The question was, how could she convince him to open the cell door?
“Are you next in line to threaten me?” she drawled.
The male turned to study her with dark, piercing eyes. “I prefer action to words.”
“Fine with me. I’m growing bored.” Sofie yawned, stretching her arms over her head in a slow motion that emphasized the slender curves of her body. Some males were susceptible to their physical hungers. “Are we going to fight?”
Stavros arched his brows in appreciation, but he was clearly not going to give in to any rash impulses.
“You have to earn the right to fight me,” he informed her with a faint smile.
“Earn the right?”
In answer, the commander lifted his hands to clap them together. A second later three more minotaurs crowded into the space in front of her cell. There were two males and one female. All of them were large, all of them were holding heavy spears, and all of them were eyeing Sofie with anticipation. As if hoping she would do something that would give them a reason to skewer her like a shish kebab.
Still smiling, Stavros moved to grab the door of her cell. With one hard jerk he had it swinging open. Sofie stiffened, not daring to move. She was no match for four fully armed minotaurs. Even when she was at her full strength.
“Come with me,” he commanded.
Sofie considered her options. It didn’t take long. She could do as the male demanded or she could get sliced into tiny bits. Not the most pleasant way to die.
Cautiously, she stepped out of the cell, not sure whether this was some sort of trap. When she wasn’t stabbed or poked or diced, she reluctantly followed Stavros as he led her down a cramped corridor lined with cells on one side. They were all currently empty, but there was a lingering stench that revealed they’d been in use in the past. Mostly by minotaurs, although she caught the scent of orc and troll mixed in the muck.
They reached a heavy door and she watched as Stavros laid his hand on the wood. Slowly it swung open. She assumed the locks must react to his touch rather than keys. Yet another barrier to her freedom.
“Where are we going?” she asked as they climbed the steps carved into the thick stone, acutely conscious of the guards following a few inches behind her.
