Page 18 of Bound to the Minotaur (Hillcrest Hollow Shifters #2)

Gregory

I watched Liz drive off, her ridiculous little Beetle rattling down the gravel road like a tin toy with a temper.

Bangles clattered with her wave. She always left chaos in her wake, no matter how brief the visit.

Now, I was left standing on the porch, tension coiled tight in my shoulders and the sharp scent of uncertainty lingering in the air like ozone before a storm.

This wasn’t how I wanted things to go.

Telling Kess what I was—what I am —was supposed to come later, after she’d settled and trusted me more. After she was safe. After I was sure she’d stay. But Liz, in her usual meddling way, had shoved the whole conversation to the edge of a cliff.

And Kess? Of course she didn’t back away. She poked me in the damn ribs like I was just a man, not something with horns and a buried instinct to run toward trouble. She looked at me like she expected the truth, like she deserved it. And hell, she did.

I almost smiled. Then Avis meowed—sharp, expectant. That damn cat. Like the Mayor, he wasn’t going to let me wriggle out of this. The truth was, they were right. Better to get this over with. I sighed and turned toward the side of the cabin. “Come with me.”

The layer of dead leaves I hadn’t bothered to shovel into a pile yet crunched beneath our boots as we stepped off the porch and around the A-frame’s steep slope of roof, the cedar walls weathered gray by wind and time.

My fingers wrapped around hers without asking, just needing to touch her, to tether her to me while I still could.

Her hand was smaller but gripped back with this quiet certainty that somehow made my gut twist.

Then we were at the back edge of the cabin, where the woods began—thick and tangled—and the Maze loomed.

The hedges looked dormant in the cold, dark green with a dusting of snow, but they pulsed faintly with old magic.

The path beyond the wrought-iron gate twisted into shadows too deep for sunlight to reach.

It wasn’t just labyrinthine by shape; it was alive, protective, ancient.

Shaped by my magic, by my beast, and there to protect me and no one else. I’d told her not to go in there.

Gods, help me, seeing her near it now made my blood roar.

Not yet.

I stopped and faced her, letting go of her hand only because I needed to keep mine still, and I feared I’d squeeze her fingers too hard.

“What Liz said… about Hillcrest Hollow. It’s all true.

This town—this valley—is a sanctuary for the supernatural.

We don’t show ourselves unless we choose to. We blend in. Hide. But we’re here.”

Kess didn’t speak, her blue eyes wide behind her glasses, her breath puffing softly into the cold air. But she didn’t run.

I pressed on, voice low, my nerves a mess in a way they hadn’t been since I was a young bull.

“I’m one of them, and I’ve lived here a long time.

I… sense people in danger. Not everyone, not always.

But when it happens, it hits like a pressure drop in the air, like the ground tugging at your feet.

That night, when your car went off the road, I knew exactly where you were, even before you called. I felt you.”

She tilted her head slightly, brows knitting.

She wasn’t quite sure she believed me. “And when I checked your car… I already knew what I’d find.

” A pulse of something sharp—fear, maybe—flashed across her face, then she shoved it down, pressing her lips into a flat line.

Still listening. She feared what that tampered brake line meant more than what I was about to say; I could see that in her clear eyes.

I hesitated anyway. I’d never done this before, never spoken of this to anyone but those who already knew.

The wind rustled the hedge behind us, and I breathed in deep, catching her scent beneath the chill: soft and human and warm.

My instincts surged up, clawing, demanding I tell her everything. Show her.

“You already know,” I said, meeting her gaze. “What I am.” Her lips parted in surprise. “I think… some part of you knew from the moment you stepped into this place. You saw the signs. Maybe even dreamed them: the maze, the horns, the heat.” I hoped she’d dreamed of me and my maze, that

She blinked fast. Then she laughed—a breathy, almost disbelieving sound—and flapped her hand toward me.

“I saw you last night.” I froze, my skin prickling along my spine and my forehead itching as the urge to shift intensified.

My horns were pressing against my skin, ready to surge forward.

She’d seen me? So I hadn’t been mistaken about that shadow by the window.

“I saw you,” she repeated, more firmly now, fire rising behind her voice.

“Don’t stand there and make me ask again.

Show me.” She had hooked her fists on her hips, giving me a defiant, bold pose and a glare to go with it.

I stared at her—the woman who had somehow made herself at home in my arms and in my goddamn soul—and I realized I was done hiding.

Even from her, especially from her.

Still, this wasn’t done lightly, even for one’s soulmate. Another truth I had to tell her, one that was less hard to accept once she’d accepted this: the beast in me.

With dry lips, I whispered huskily, “Remember, it’s still me, and I’d never hurt you.

Never.” It was a vow, and one I hoped she believed with all my heart.

The air between us felt electric, humming with something that had been waiting— aching —to be released.

Kess didn’t flinch, didn’t turn away. Her chin lifted, eyes huge, breath quickening, but not in fear.

She was ready. So I gave her what she asked for.

The shift began with a low crackle under my skin, like ice fracturing beneath pressure.

Heat bloomed through my spine, then out, my body folding inward and expanding at once.

My clothing dissolved, absorbed into the space between forms, as it always did; where, I couldn’t say.

Some other plane that held the pieces of me I didn’t need until I did again.

Light exploded across my vision, so bright it painted the world white for a heartbeat. It rushed over me, through me, not gentle, but not cruel either. Pleasure braided with pain. A rebirth every time. I gritted my teeth through the edge of it, and then it was over.

And I was .

I stood taller now, hooves sunk into the cold earth, wide chest rising with steam curling from my nose in thick white plumes.

Fur rippled dark and heavy over my form, my shoulders broadening, the power of the beast coiled beneath my skin like a slumbering storm.

I shook out my horns, letting the ache of the transformation ebb, and then I looked at her.

Kess stood utterly still, her eyes locked on mine.

No panic. No scream. Just… awe. Then, slowly—gods, so slowly—she lifted one hand, her fingers trembling.

She placed it against my chest, her small palm pressed to my black fur, pale skin stark and beautiful against me.

I could feel her heat there, feel her heart hammering like a drum, steadying as she held on.

“You’re magnificent,” she whispered.

I couldn’t breathe. The words hit deeper than she could know. My instincts surged; old, sacred things roaring to life within me. Mate. Hunt. Claim. The maze behind us pulsed, called to me. To us. The wind shifted. Her scent wrapped around me like a ribbon, soft and sure and so temptingly hers .

I stepped closer, and she didn’t back away. Her pupils widened as I loomed over her, massive and aching, every muscle straining to hold back. I needed her running. I needed the chase, the ritual. She had no idea what she’d awakened in me, but she would .

I lowered my head, breathing her in. Then I nudged her gently, my horns curling past her shoulders, her hair catching in the fur at my jaw. She stumbled back a step; I moved with her. Another step.

She laughed—breathless, startled, and thrilled. I was herding her toward the maze, toward our beginning.

Then—

A sound.

Sharp. Wrong.

It sliced through the trees behind us; quick and foreign. My ears snapped forward, muscles locking. Not animal. Not natural. The scent hadn’t reached me yet, but I felt it: the wrongness of it.

It came from behind us in the woods. I knew every sound these trees made and every step the animals in my territory took. This was different.

Kess stilled, eyes flicking to the tree line. “What was that?” I didn’t answer; I was already turning, chest heaving, instincts fracturing between the pull of the hunt and the threat lurking too close.

Whatever it was; it was coming.

It was coming for her , and she was mine to protect. Nobody would take her from me; nobody would live to tell the tale. I’d make them learn from their mistake, chase them in ways I’d never chase my female.

***

Kess

I thought I’d imagined it at first: the shift in the air, like thunder holding its breath. Then Gregory’s body started to ripple—no, unravel—and light poured from his skin.

Not harsh light, but something golden, sacred. He looked like a falling star, breaking through reality itself. I couldn’t see where his human edges ended and the rest of him began. It was like staring into a double exposure: both versions of him overlaid, bones and soul and muscle and myth.

I gasped, not in fear but in awe. For a heartbeat, I felt as if I were seeing into the very core of him, like his soul was wide open and unguarded; somehow reaching for me. As if part of me wanted to reach out and mesh with all of that, a perfect fit.

Then the light faded, and Gregory was gone. In his place stood something massive. Magnificent. A Minotaur. Just like I’d dreamed, just like we’d been hinting at, until speaking it out loud this morning. A creature of myth, alive, in the flesh. Real as can be.

Black fur shimmered over slabs of thick muscle, his arms corded and long, his legs ending in gleaming hooves planted firmly into the forest floor.

Horns curved from either side of his head, ancient and regal, their tips sharp enough to pierce dreams. His breath came out in plumes, the cold catching on the heat of him.

But it was his eyes that stole my breath—the same warm, annoyed amber I’d grown used to, full of knowing, warning, and want.

“Gregory,” I whispered. I didn’t remember moving, but suddenly my hand was on him, fingers buried in his fur. The texture coarse and warm and somehow alive with energy. He was huge . Towering over me, dense and dangerous, and mine.

The moment thickened, gravity pulling us together, and then he moved.

His massive head dipped, one horn brushing past my shoulder, and I gasped as he nudged me: firmly, insistently.

I took a step back, and he followed, close.

He was herding me, dancing with me. His wide body blocked out the forest behind us, shadowing me with himself.

Every step, every breath was a demand. My heart pounded, my thighs clenched. I was burning.

The maze loomed behind me now, tall and overgrown, its walls built from nature and time and something far older.

Vines curled like veins across the stones, and beyond the narrow entrance, a darkness waited; not empty, but expectant.

I knew, without being told, that if I stepped inside, nothing would ever be the same again.

Gregory’s heat pressed against me, and I only yearned to burrow closer, to step into that warmth that wafted like steam from his lush, silky black pelt.

With him towering over me, surrounding me with his massive bulk and utterly mythical shape, it was easy to forget about danger, and easier still to believe that he could handle anything, even my dad.

I stepped back again, nearly tripping over a root as my shoe caught on it.

His body was so close that we were almost touching, like a strange kind of tango.

And then he froze. His whole body tense, ears flicking, breath suddenly silent.

Then he turned his great head toward the woods—still, alert, as if listening for something I couldn’t yet perceive.

Without warning, he bolted. One second he was in front of me; the next, he was gone, crashing through the forest like a shadow made of muscle and wrath. Hooves thudded against the earth, vibrating through my legs. A branch snapped in the distance. Then, silence.

I grappled with this change in reality, struggling to handle the shift from intense, confusing arousal to this… a sense of vulnerable alertness, a hint of abandonment that curled in my gut. But I wasn’t alone.

Avis stepped in front of me; tail bristled, ears flat. Every inch of him a warning. Something was out there. Something was watching .

I clutched my coat tighter around me and stared at the empty space Gregory had left behind. My pulse thundered. The maze stood at my back, Avis stood by my feet, and dread curled like smoke in my lungs. Whatever had pulled him away… it was close. And it hadn’t come to play.