Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 153795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 769(@200wpm)___ 615(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 769(@200wpm)___ 615(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
When he does, I see the shallow wound the arrow created. “Looks better.” He puts the bandage back in place, then drapes my arm over his shoulder to help me. The reach up is uncomfortable, seeing as he’s much taller than I am, but when he presses my side to his, I instantly feel better…at first. His proximity catches me off guard once again. It should annoy me or, at the least, make me feel awkward, but it doesn’t. He’s closer than usual, and I’m surprised I don’t hate it. “Once you eat and are stable enough, we’ll keep moving.”
“Where are my things?”
“In there.” He nods his head toward a wardrobe painted white with intricate pink floral designs. With my arm still around him and his hand at my waist, he makes his way to the door. Butterflies flutter in my stomach as I try ignoring the hand he has close to my hip…and how good he smells—all leather, cedar, smoke, and a hint of something woodsy. How can he still smell so nice after setting a whole forest on fire?
As we leave the room, I hear music trickling through the hall. Thane keeps me steady as I limp. In the hallway, I notice portraits of all sizes tacked to the walls.
Many of them are images of minotaurs in all shapes and sizes. A few mortals are included as well, but there is one painting that stands out most of all—a mortal woman and a rather large male minotaur in front of a ship. The minotaur has his arm wrapped around the woman, kind of how Thane’s is around me right now, and they’re looking at each other with bright smiles and gentle eyes. The painting appears so vivid and alive, I can imagine them stepping right out of the canvas.
“How are you feeling?” Thane asks. It sounds like a genuine question—so genuine, in fact, that I have to check his eyes for any hint of sarcasm.
“Could be better,” I offer, softening.
He nods.
We finally enter a spacious hall made of wooden columns with beams spanning the vaulted ceiling. Round wooden tables are spread throughout. A long bar counter is to my left, wiped clean and topped with bowls of roasted nuts. Barrels of ale stand next to built-in shelves that are neatly lined with rustic mugs.
A carved wooden sign is tacked to the wall above the bar that reads KAMTAUR INN, painted in blue lettering. The paint is chipped and worn, giving a hint to its age. Across the way is a set of stairs that probably lead up to more rooms where people can sleep.
“There you go, Zephra.” Algar’s voice catches my ear. I find him sitting at a corner table with Zephra perched in front of him. He tosses an almond into her mouth, and she chomps it rapidly before opening wide for another, revealing sharp little teeth.
There is someone else at his table, too—a beastial with shaggy brown hair and large horns protruding from either side of his head. A silver hoop hangs from one of his bull-shaped ears, and he smiles as he watches Zephra eat. Other than his horns, the light patches of fur, and ears, every other feature of his is mortal, down to his tan skin, wide nose, full lips, and the softness of his eyes.
Holy Crystal. He’s a real-life minotaur.
Well, he appears more like a cross between mortal and minotaur, but regardless, he is a sight to behold. Minotaurs of any kind are rare among beastials now. In fact, this is the closest I’ve ever been to one.
“Yeah, it’s been dry around here lately,” the minotaur says as he leans his upper back against the nearest wall. He’s sitting on a barrel, chucking almonds into his mouth. “Rynthea won’t admit it, but we won’t stay afloat for much longer. We’ll have to sell this place soon.”
“No—you can’t do that.” Algar gapes at him. “It’s been in your family for decades. You can’t just give that up.”
“Well, a lot of beastials are afraid to come in here now. Look at it.” The minotaur raises a hand, gesturing around. “It’s constantly vacant. We have a few people pass through while they travel, but ever since Ruvain gave permission for the mortals to hunt wild beastials, it’s been sparse. Because you know the Ruvainers don’t just hunt for the wild ones. They hunt all of us, then strip us of our clothes and try and claim us wild when they turn us in for coin. They’re full of shit, all of them.”
Thane sits me down at a table close to theirs, then takes a seat in the chair opposite mine.
When Algar spots me, he grins. “Well, if it isn’t our sleeping princess. I swear you love resting those pretty eyes of yours.”
“It wasn’t my choice this time.” I laugh, rubbing my arm. It’s not burning as much as before.