Captured by the Centaur (Filthy Monster Erotica Book 3)

by Harpie Alexander

  “That sounds both gruesome and effective,” Erica mused, but then she thought of her friends from the slave wagon and sincerely hoped they didn’t make any wrong turns.

  “It is. With our fierce defense of our lands, swift retribution against aggressors, and a strong campaign of lies and rumor mongering, we have cultivated quite a reputation of being murderous cannibals and ruthless killers.” Hetak chuckled darkly, sounding almost proud of the horrid rumors about his people.

  A flash of lightning and heavy drizzle suddenly turned into a horrendous downpour that drowned out any other attempts at conversation. Hetak grabbed her arms and pulled them tighter around his torso until she was snug against his back. Once she was secured to him, he picked up speed, cantering as fast as he dared through the blinding storm.

  Erica bounced against his back, her arms tightly wrapped around his stomach. She clung to him with the worry that if she were to let go, she could lose him forever. Wind and water battered her, biting into her exposed, tender skin and sluicing through her soaked clothes. She had nothing to protect herself with, so she simply curled her head against Hetak’s back and hoped they would soon arrive as he had claimed.

  Hetak slowed and Erica took a chance to peer around him at their destination. The forest was interrupted by a tall cliff that rose up in front of them, looming some thirty or forty feet in the air. Erica eyed the massive rock face wondering if they needed to climb it somehow or go around it, but as her gaze traveled down the steep incline she spotted a little structure at the bottom. Nestled against its base was a large, well-made lean-to. Turning toward the shelter, Hetak strode to an opening and lowered his haunches so Erica could slide off his back and into the opening.

  She wobbled when her foot touched the ground, but with the lean-to supports only an arm’s length away, with Hetak’s hand on the small of her back steadying her, Erica adjusted quickly. As soon as she moved out of the way, Hetak shook the water from his hide and ducked inside, rifled through a pack near the entry, and pulled out a piece of fabric. He cleared the water from his eyes before holding it out for her.

  “Come, we must dry you before you fall ill from those wet clothes,” he said, stepping closer.

  Hetak steadied Erica with one hand and helped her strip naked, wiping the worst of the water from her hair and skin before wrapping her in a dry blanket. When she was no longer shivering from the cold, he urged her to sit on his bedroll while he uncovered some dry firewood and assembled a fire in the pit at the front of the shelter. Soon, after striking two stones together, sparks flew and caughtthe kindling which smoked softly. Blowing on it with gentle breaths, the fire quickly crackled to life and heated the small space around them. Afterward, Hetak picked up Erica’s discarded clothes and hung them over the ceiling braces to dry them.

  “Do you need any help?” Erica asked, feeling slightly inadequate while she watched him work. It had been a long time since she really did anything for herself, or anyone else for that matter. She knew others thought of her as a cripple, but losing part of her leg didn’t mean she was useless. There were many things she could still do, like cooking for example, as long as she took her time and paid attention of course.

  “No, my Erica. I have this well in hand,” he replied, reaching for a waterskin that hung on the wall.

  Erica’s belly chose that moment to growl loudly, which drew Hetak’s attention toward her. His curious gaze made her blush in embarrassment. The growl came again and he grinned.

  “I do not have much, but I will make us a meal,” he said, then reached for a pack nearby.

  Erica was definitely in the mood for food.

  Chapter Seven

  Hetak

  Silent since the moment he’d started to prepare their food, Erica sat on his bedroll, appearing more and more somber as time went on. Hetak could tell that something was wrong. He just wasn’t sure what. Had he said something? Did he do something? Surely she wasn’t upset by the fact he was making a simple stew of dried rabbit meat and vegetables? True, the meat wasn’t as good as a fresh kill, but the travel mix was filling and moderately tasty.

  A sad sigh escaped her. Hetak looked up, meeting her even sadder eyes.

  “Is something the matter?” he finally asked, his mind plagued by the thoughts that he somehow offended her.

  “No, everything’s fine,” she replied, low and quiet.

  Hetak dropped his fire stick next to the pit. Everything was not fine. He could feel it in the air, he could see it on her lovely face. Something was amiss and he wanted to know what it was so he could take care of it. Whatever it was. As long as it wasn’t regret over what had happened between them at the river. Somehow, he knew he couldn’t bear it if she felt that way.

  He wanted Erica and all the delights she had to offer. He also knew that he would do anything for her, even give her the world on a platter, should she demand it. It was a strong realization, one that hit him with such power that there was no denying the truth. Erica Murphy was his. She was his mate. He would give her anything. Anything, but her freedom. Hetak knew he didn’t have the strength to let her go, even if she asked.

  “I can hunt us something else if you prefer,” he offered reluctantly, not really wanting to go out into the storm. Though he would if it meant that her mood would brighten a little.

  “And go out into that awful storm? Why on earth would you do that?” she asked, frowning.

  “I thought that perhaps you might prefer better fare.”

  “Oh?” Cocking a brow, she tilted her head slightly to the side. Then realization struck and she shook her head rapidly. “No, no, no. I’m so sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. I’m grateful for any food you have to offer, no matter what it is. Narvis rarely ever fed his slaves. He fed me even less after my injury.”

  A low snarl formed at the back of his throat. “I cannot stand when you speak of this foul male who kept you in such abominable conditions. I should hunt him down, kill him, and leave his head on a pike at our borders as a warning to all slavers who think to pass through our lands.”

  Erica laughed. “Now that is something I have no complaints about.”

  Confused, Hetak narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “So you do have complaints? I know you said it wasn’t the food, but Erica, please tell me if it is the stew. I can cook something else if need be. I merely chose this because the travel rations are easy to prepare and are filling. I thought you would like to eat something sooner rather than later.”

  “The stew is perfect,” she replied, then went quiet again.

  Crell’s hell. He didn’t understand. It was like one hoof forward, two hooves back. His tail bristled in irritation, his nostrils flaring with his frustration. He wanted to believe her, truly. But something was bothering her, and for the life of him he just knew it had something to do with the food.

  Grabbing his bow and quiver, Hetak turned to leave the lean-to. He would find something better for his female, even if he had to go out in the rain to do it. The rain would make it harder to find prey, but he would find something more adequate and fulfilling.

  “Wait!” Erica yelled. Lunging off his bedroll to stop him, she accidently snatched the end of his tail at the last second. Overbalanced, she fell and yanked a handful of his hair out while she tumbled to the ground.

  Just missing the fire and the pot of hot stew, she lay sprawled out and naked at his feet, staring at the hair in her fist before turning her gaze up to his. Her expression fell and she burst into noisy tears.

  Hetak turned carefully. Dropping his bow, he reached down for his distraught female, then pulled her upright, wrapped her in the blanket again and helped her back onto the bedroll. There, she cried. Not knowing what else to do, he knelt behind her and held her, then patted her back. She turned round in his arms and sobbed into his chest. Uncertain of what to say, he simply hummed an old lullaby and rocked her until she settled into quiet sniffles.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said quietly as she wiped her eyes and nose.<
br />
  “Nonsense. There is nothing to apologize for,” he said. And there wasn’t.

  “I don’t want you to leave. I’m sorry I upset you,” she whispered, curling closer to him.

  “I was only going to get you something better than travel stew. I would have returned,” Hektak promised.

  “You don’t have to go out in the rain, the stew is fine. Everything is fine,” she said, trying to reassure him.

  Not wanting to push her after she’d had such a rough day already, Hetak nodded and positioned himself back on the floor. He knew the matter still wasn’t settled, but he could wait until she was ready to speak about it.

  Chapter Eight

  Erica

  Hetak’s lean-to was small, considering the size of its occupant, but it was still big enough to comfortably move about and be spared by the downpour of rain. Even the fire, which was so full of life, somehow evaded its mortal enemy.

  Even though Hetak had finished cooking and eating some time ago, she still felt his eyes on her as she ate her own portion. It gave her the impression he was worried if she liked his cooking or not, and she didn’t understand why. The meat was incredibly tender for something that had been dried into a jerky. Each bite taken was soft and flavorful, the veggies and grain giving the stew a nice texture. She used her fingers to wipe the bowl clean and then licked them with appreciative murmurs. Flavors burst across her tongue as her stomach rumbled contentedly. Hetak was a good cook, perhaps even better than she was.

  Looking up, she caught him staring at her again.

  “Thanks for dinner. This was the best thing I’ve eaten in ages,” she said warmly, then winced when she saw the scowl on his face return. She knew he wasn’t frowning at her. He just hated hearing about her mistreatment during her time as a pleasure slave. She couldn’t fault him for that. Not really. Who wanted to hear about that kind of thing? Especially when there was nothing they could really do about it.

  Erica felt her lips curve when she remembered what he said about killing Narvis and putting his head on a spike. Had he truly meant that? Not that she condoned murder, but for Narvis she might be willing to make an exception, if it was for a certain centaur seeking vengence in her name.

  When Hetak’s scowl failed to leave his face long after she finished eating, Erica realized something else was bothering him.

  “Hetak, what is it?”

  “You haven’t eaten much, would you like more?”

  “I am full.”

  “It’s the travel stew, isn’t it?”

  Erica frowned. This again? What in the world was going on in this centaur’s head? Hadn’t she already explained that she was grateful for anything he offered? All of a sudden, she realized that she was probably projecting her emotions onto him and he was merely responding to the ugly thoughts she didn’t want to talk about with anyone just yet.

  Perhaps it was time, she thought with a sigh. She wasn’t a slave trapped in a wagon any longer. She was a free woman again. Free to move and travel around, free to live her life…free to love. Erica put those last feelings on the backburner since she wasn’t sure how she felt about the attractive centaur in front of her, not yet at least, but she did feel she needed to be honest with him about one thing.

  “You’re right. It was the food.”

  “I knew the travel rations weren’t acceptable,” Hetak growled, frowning.

  “Wait! Hear me out before you get all twisted up! It’s—”

  “I am not upset with you,” he said in such adoration as he reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You can tell me anything.”

  Erica closed her eyes for a moment as his fingers grazed against the side of her cheek. “I don’t mean to be difficult. I’m being a total baby about this, I know. It’s just hard. And I don’t want it to be so hard. I mean, I do, but I don’t. Gah. This is not making any sense, is it?”

  Hetak paused for a moment, thinking. “Perhaps, but I wish to understand.”

  “It’s this damn leg!” she cried, angrily flinging her hands towards her missing limb.

  “Your wound?”

  “I feel so completely useless all the time. Back in the slave wagon, I was stuck inside that thing for…well, for ages. I couldn’t walk. I could barely crawl around. I couldn’t do anything for myself. Not even take myself to the bathroom to pee! The ladies I was trapped with had to help me. A lot!”

  “You want to do these things for yourself,” he said with an understanding nod.

  “Yes. I want to do things for myself! I want to do things for you! I want to pitch in and help every once in a while. Hell, I only made it as far as I did in the woods because they carried me halfway, then managed to make those crutches for me to keep going. And now they’re gone! I just don’t want to feel so damn useless anymo—”

  “You wanted to cook dinner for us,” Hetak interjected, looking somewhat guilty.

  Erica looked up in surprise. This had to be the first time a guy ever understood why a woman was upset without it having to be spelled out for him.

  “Yes!” She jostled in her seat as she shouted in joy. Hetak leaned forward as if to ready himself in case she were to fall again. It was sweet, but she was tired of falling on her ass.

  “It wasn’t about the type of food at all.”

  “No!”

  “I understand and I am sorry, Erica. I did not know nor did I realize how badly you needed this. I merely wanted to take care of you.”

  “I don’t need—”

  Hetak raised his hand to stop her. “Not because I think you need taken care of. I do not pity a strong female such as yourself. In fact, I revere you. I find you inspiring. You are a survivor and a true warrior, Erica Murphy.”

  “Thank you, Hetak. That is kind of you to say.”

  “I merely speak the truth. You would fit well in my herd, should you decide to join us.”

  Erica’s jaw dropped just a little at Hetak’s subtle invitation to join his herd. She wondered what it would be like to live with the centaurs. Could she find a way to support herself? Could she find love? That thought gave her pause and she looked up at Hetak again. He was handsome, strong, and caring. They’d been so intimate at the river, could she have a future with him one day?

  He caught her staring and must have thought she didn’t believe him. “A strong female like you would be most welcome,” he said reassuringly.

  His words warmed her and she smiled at the thought of finding a place for herself in this crazy world. He really was a sweetie. If only he could be hers to keep.

  ∞∞∞

  The evening had grown late. Hetak lay along the back of the shelter, his lower body lounging somewhat on his right side. Due to the limited space in the lean-to, Erica sat against his left shoulder-fore, wrapped in a blanket and soaking his warmth through the soft material. Her clothes still hung near the fire to dry and they’d already cleaned up from the simple meal he’d cooked. He even asked her to wash the dishes using rainwater from outside. Now, they simply sat watching the storm as it raged beyond the entrance of the lean-to.

  It felt good to get some things off her chest. She didn’t know why she kept it inside for so long or why it was difficult to admit the truth. But now she struggled with a whole other set of emotions. Emotions tied to a kind centaur who captured her heart.

  Erica tried not to think too hard about what had happened by the river. So far, despite sharing some of her carefully guarded emotions with Hetak, he hadn’t said anything about what happened between them earlier in the day. Nor had he attempted to do anything more, despite her current nudity. He’d helped her strip out of the wet clothes and dry off, but his actions had been brisk, efficient and impersonal. Did he regret what they’d done earlier? Was he disgusted by how easy she’d been to seduce? Would they be so close to one another if their shelter wasn’t so cozy and small?

  “You are so quiet and yet your thoughts clamor so loudly that I can almost hear them,” Hetak commented, wrapping an arm aro
und Erica’s shoulder and hugged her close. “What bothers you so?”

  Erica hesitated, worried about sounding pathetic or needy, but eventually, she decided to speak her mind. “Why haven’t you tried to touch me again? Are you repulsed by me already?” Turning to face him, she leaned against his chest, his arm preventing her from pulling away completely.

  Hetak studied her quietly, his hand coming up to touch her cheek. “Would I share my shelter with one I was repulsed by? Would I give of my food, bedding and warmth? No, I am not repulsed by you. You are strong and beautiful. I am far from repulsed.”

  “Then why—”

  “Why do I not touch you as I did at the river?”

  She could feel her cheeks redden as she nodded.

  “At the river,” Hetak began, slowing his words as if he was carefully mulling each one over. “I took liberties with you that I should not have. You are an escaped slave and I may as well have used you as your master did. My actions trouble me and yet, I would do it all again. I would do so much more.” His expression was dead serious as he stared at her heatedly. His arm tightened, dragging her against his hard chest.

  Erica’s breath caught in her throat at his words. “You would have stopped if I told you to.”

  “You believe so?” he asked, watching her while she nodded at his question. “I’m not so sure.”

  Then he kissed her. His lips were hard on hers, devouring her cry of surprise. His free hand slipped down from her face to her shoulder, then further, to slip inside her blanket and cup her breast. Erica broke from his kiss with a moan, arching into his touch.

  “I want you Hetak,” she declared, reaching up to touch him back.

  He caught her hand and pressed it to his chest, holding it over his human heart. She could feel it pounding under her fingers.

  “I want you as well Erica, but if we go further, there is no going back,” he said when she looked up at him.