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Finally, she nodded and stepped close enough to be swept up in his embrace. He did not waste time in going slowly so not to alarm her human sensibilities. Instead, he snatched her roughly to his chest and hefted her small body up high against him as he spun back around in the direction of home. With a leap he set off with a soft feminine squeal of surprise warming his ear.
Ah, how he could not wait to get her hidden safely at home!
The satyr wasn’t entirelytrustworthy. It was easy enough to spot in his smile that looked far too mischievous and charming with a hint of wildness to it that set Tiffany on edge. She’d be a fool to trust him. And yet, at the moment, he was the best option she had. Probably not the sanest if she were honest with herself as nothing about him screamed trustworthy but she was willing to take a chance considering that, despite her best efforts, she hadn’t been able to lose the people following her. Every time she believed she possibly lost them, she was disheartened at the returning smoke that marked the position of their camp every evening.
They were getting closer.
The sad thing was, with the way they were gaining on her, she would already have long ago been captured if it hadn’t been for a bit of quick thinking that first day. She’d lost a full night of sleep laying a false trail for their half-starved dogs before wading down stream for a few miles before exiting onto dry ground. The wet squelch of her boots had been worth it as she hurried away from the river. She’d gained a good day and a half on them before she’d noted the campfire smoke some distance away, and from the direction from which she’d come, as she’d prepared to bed down for the night.
Last night they were the closest that they’d been yet. She’d been able to smell the smoke and hear the faint barks and howls of the dogs, making it very clear that her time was running out.
That was the sole reason she swallowed back her panicked scream and made no effort to fight off the satyr’s hold as he raced away with her. Although he was sporting a massive, erect cock that made her more than a little uncomfortable with the way it seemed to wave at her persistently and nudged persistently at her thigh as he carried her, he’d been open to her questions and allowed her to lead their interaction. He’d even given her the choice if she wished to accompany him. That alone made her feel more comfortable going with him—for a short time, anyway.
The opportunity to lay low somewhere that she could safely hide until her pursuers moved on was worth taking a little chance. Of course, she recognized it could be a bit of a ploy, but it seemed pretty unnecessary for a male who, just by looking at him, could overpower her easier than any of those hot on her trail. So, she clung to him as he raced through the grasses to the edge of the woods into which he plunged without hesitation. Rather there was a sense of complete familiarity as he navigated with a surefootedness among the trees in comparison to her own disorientation from the sudden shift from open sunlight into the heavier shadows of the forest.
He didn’t even seem to notice the thick, twisted limbs that reached for them. Tiffany did, however. She couldn’t have missed them to save her life. Although they were nothing more than trees thick with vines and moss amid numerous bushes and flowering plants, there was a darkness that clung to it around the edges that hinted of things concealed among the eerie beauty and the mangled, darker forms that the trees seemed to take. There was something uncanny about it that settled like a cool weight in her chest. If she were walking at her normal pace instead of being carried at an abnormally high speed, she didn’t think that she would be able to take more than a few steps at a time without quaking at the unease that filled her just being there.
That feeling grew as Barbasa raced along some hidden path, carrying them deeper into the depths of the forest. The deeper they went the longer and more ominous the shadows grew and the darker their surroundings as the sun moved overhead. At times she thought she caught ghostly wisps moving amid the trees that chilled her blood but that couldn’t be right. Ghosts? Monsters were flesh and blood. Those she could believe. But a ghost couldn’t be more than whisperings that people enjoyed scaring each other with.
Her fingers dug into the heavy muscles of the satyr’s back in reaction but even more so when she felt his gait suddenly change. The shadows seemed to uncurl from within themselves, threads of darkness trailing between leaves and limbs and blades of grass and debris of the forest floor. Her pulse quickened in reaction until she rode the edge of the fear that was flooding her veins. She didn’t want to stop in the midst of the thickest and darkest part of the forest! And yet, that was exactly what was happening. They were slowing down.
Biting back a whimper, she turned as much as she could in Barbasa’s grasp to peer nervously at her surroundings as he continued to sedately walk forward to their destination. He had spoken of taking her home, but this was not what she expected. There was nothing but trees and darkness cut with brief, intermittent pools of dim sunlight that made its way into the canopy. It was dark enough that she missed the outline of a dark structure among the deepest pool of shadows until they were practically upon it and his hooves struck in a clatter against what sounded like cement poured within a small area that led to a short series of porch steps with a rough and weathered banister.
Tiffany stared as he began to hasten up them, her eyes slowly rising from the wooden porch to barely visible walls covered with what appeared to be thick ropes of some sort of viny plant that trailed along the sides of the porch and along its supports. No wonder she hadn’t been able to see it. Between the vines and what appeared to be numerous overgrown bushes surrounding it, it blended into the rest of the forest too well. Despite her discomfort with the forest, the seclusion and obscured cabin gave her an incredible gift of comfort and she felt some of the tension ease from her shoulders and from her hands where she still tightly gripped him.
She doubted anyone would find her there. And though part of her laughed in terror out how suicidal it was to take relief in being kept somewhere that she would never be found, she strangely did. She could actually close her eyes and get some rest if the satyr proved to be as trustworthy as he led her to believe.
She hoped he was. She felt like she hadn’t gotten a truly restful good night of sleep in weeks. Not since her father’s decision to marry her went public. She’d been sleeping with one eye open, terrified to truly let down her guard. And because of that, she was thoroughly exhausted. She could easily sleep for an entire day or two, as tired as she was.
The door creaked open, the hinges protesting and within moments she found herself lain in a soft pile of furs while the clip of the satyr’s hooves retreated across the room. With a spark and a flare of fire, the room lit up with a dim light that gave the wooden walls a warm, cozy glow. Tiffany sank deeper into the furs, dragging the largest and plushest one over her as the heat from the fire slowly warmed the room and seeped into her bones. Despite her exhaustion, her eyes followed Barbasa as he took a small flame from the hearth and carried it around the room, lighting various lamps set out until it provided a comfortable glow by which she could see.
His skin shuddered and he bowed his head to blow out the flame in his hand, the fire in the hearth behind him highlighted his sculpted muscles, the two sets of horns that sprouted from his brow, and the powerful, inhuman lower torso with its short tail. The angle he stood at thankfully kept his cock from being outlined with a glow, however, which she was grateful for. She certainly didn’t need to be staring at it again. Safe zones only. She didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. Easing back into the furs, she met his eyes when he suddenly turned and grinned a little too wickedly.
“Just look at you. A delicate little morsel just begging to be snapped up,” he observed with a purr. “I do so like seeing you burrowed in my bed.” He cocked his head, the short spikes, offset as they were by being framed by large, curling horns, pierced the air as he considered her. “Are you warm enough?”
She gave a quick nod of her head, not quite trusting her voice yet after her shock at his unexpected words followed directly by genuine concern. His sudden shift from feral hunger to worry had her completely off balance and not knowing what to expect and she wasn’t entirely sure if she liked that.
“Good, good,” he replied with another easy smile as he swept past her to a wooden barrel near the window. From within the barrel, he drew out a couple of dried apples and held one out to her. “Are you hungry? I have plenty. The woods provide,” he explained as warmth climbed into his glowing yellow eyes.
Swallowing back the saliva that pooled in her mouth, she gave another sharp nod.
“Yes,” she rasped as she leaned forward and reached for the fruit.
How long had it been since she ate an apple? It was not fresh from the tree, but even dried apples were a luxury that her town hadn’t had access to since the few scrawny trees that they owned died on them a couple years back. Sometimes they could get some apples in the early fall in trade with other towns, but there were none last year. An apple was precious in her town –even a dried one—and he was offering to her as if it were nothing.
The smile he bestowed on her as she plucked the apple from his clawed fingers was filled with genuine happiness. It creased his cheeks with dimples and reached his eyes where the corners crinkled with merriment. In that moment, he didn’t look like the half-feral male who offered her protection but someone warmer and kinder. And lonely. She was certain she saw that in the depths of his eyes behind his merriment. She recognized it because it was the same that she felt no matter how many smiles she wore.
Under his approving gaze, she sank her teeth into the rubbery flesh of the fruit and moaned as the slightly tart taste of the dry fruit swept over her tongue. From beneath her lashes, she watched a shiver raced over him and she wasn’t able to ignore the way his cock twitched and dripped a thick stream of milky lubricant between his hooves. Drawing in a deep breath, he turned and settled into an old rocking chair. The wood groaned under his weight but held as he curled his fist around his sex. Her eyes widened and shot up to his face. Was he really going to jerk off right there in front of her?
To her relief he gave himself a hard squeeze, bringing up another stream before pressing it down and laying a thick fur over his lap. Settling back, he tipped the chair with his hooves so that it began to rock and regarded her in turn from half-open, luminous eyes. A tiny panting breath escaped him, and another shiver ran over him as he continued to rock, his breath hitching on a rumbling moan. She was certain now that he was seeing to his needs. She should be mortified but as far as she could tell she didn’t see any halls or doors going off into other rooms that he could escape into. It was just the single room with the kitchen area over in one corner that she could now clearly see. Embarrassed to be witnessing such a thing, she blushed and ducked lower in the furs, trying to look anywhere but him. All the while, she was aware of his gaze fastened on her and the shudder that wracked him with a violent growl as his hips lurched in the chair.
Clenching her thighs together, Tiffany rolled onto her side and burrowed deeper into the warmth there. She didn’t move, barely dared to breathe when she heard the light step of his hooves over the floorboards as he moved about. Sooner or later, he would join her in the bed. The fact that there was only one hadn’t escaped her notice either.
Barbasa’s eyes slowly opened,a smile curling his lips as he focused on the small female whom he’d curled his much larger frame around. Lowering his head so that his nose brushed her hair at the top of her head, he drew in her scent. There was something comforting about it that he had not expected. He had fully expected to awaken in a confused, aroused, and wary state as he had for innumerable years. Ever since the labyrinth had begun to chip away his sanity.
It was for this reason that, before bedding down, he had shifted the female to the farthest side while he took the other. He had hoped that the distance between them would give him the needed space to awaken and become fully alert without doing any damage to her soft, human flesh. Not that it would have mattered if the darkness had taken him in his sleep.
He frowned. He did not understand why it still gripped him as it did. The minotaur, Asterion, had seemingly recovered entirely from the madness of the labyrinth. With nothing better to do with himself, Barbasa had followed him for a time, observing his once friend from afar. The male had been perfectly capable of striking with ruthless brutality when he desired, but overall, there were no signs of his senses being overcome whereas Barbasa hadn’t been so fortunate. Though he remained unaffected at most times, the darkness had a way of attacking him randomly when his guard was down to varying degrees. Some of which he embraced—the raw wildness of it was merely an amplification of a satyr’s own nature. But its cruelty and cold viciousness—that was enough to scare even a creature such as he who took pleasure in regulated amounts of fear.
