Brunette gasped as he stepped into view, and then her eyes widened as she ogled him shamelessly, her gaze finally landing on his feet. If he wasn’t mistaken, a brief flash of triumph flittered across her features. She’d smiled, revealing even, white teeth. Then the grin turned to a frown. She blinked and shook her head. When she met Ariston’s gaze again, fear remained.
“Oh God. Oh God. I’m hallucinating, probably have a fever, and I need to get out of here now.” She nodded as she said the last word as if it finalized her babbling, confirming an inner argument of some sort.
“I don’t think you’re suffering any ailments. You can keep gawking at me all you like. Although, I would prefer if you looked a little higher than my feet.” Much more impressive, that. At least, no one had ever complained before.
She made a derogatory noise in the back of her throat. “Please tell me you’re some D&D nerd in a really well-made costume and you mean me no harm. Also, if you have a cell phone, I would really appreciate it if you don’t take my previous comment personally and let me borrow it for a moment.” Ah, well, that solved one of his concerns; if she had no phone, she couldn’t have sent evidence or contacted anyone about what she’d seen. Unless, of course, she had a camera stashed somewhere. I should probably frisk her to find out.
He crossed his arms. “This is not a costume.” Ariston narrowed his eyes, a thought occurring to him. “I didn’t sense you being attracted by my song like I did the blonde. Are you a magical being? Who are you? A deity? A demigoddess?” He was on to something there, but wasn’t sure what. Had she brought the freak thunderstorm the night before? There had been no sign of rain, yet rained it had. And hailed on top of it.
“Right... Maybe you should let me hold that phone I mentioned before. I think it could bring help for both of us.”
“I don’t have a phone on me. Where would I put it? In my leg hair?” He lifted a hoof and waved it in a counterclockwise motion. Brunette’s eyes widened once more. Why did everyone get all worked up over the hooves, but not the horns? Those mostly received a pffft reaction followed by a series of retorts about his nature of “horniness.” It’s not like he would start making goat noises and chewing on buttons. The only part of his anatomy of any real importance hung heavily between his legs, and that was as human as any mortal man. Except he liked to think he was better endowed.
“In your, uh, gun holster?” Brunette pointed to his panpipes.
“What about it?” Ariston asked.
“You asked where you would put a phone. There is a large pocket on your strappy purse thingy.” She nibbled her full bottom lip, an act that shot fire to his groin.
“It’s not a purse. How could you even say that? It’s very manly.”
“Uh huh. Of course.”
“It is.” The twinge of lust faded out as he noticed the blood spotted bandage across the palm of her hand. “How were you injured?” Ariston took an unconscious step toward her. He had medical supplies at the cabin. Though he healed at phenomenal speeds, his blood still made a mess when it flowed on the wrong side of his skin. He could patch her up in no time.
She glanced at her palm, almost surprised to see the bandage there. Then she shook her head and said, “Yeah, this is the weirdest conversation ever. Sorry, but...gotta dash.” She darted off in the opposite direction. As she sprinted away, stinging drops of water began to bombard his skin. Brunette had to be the one manipulating the rain, but how? What was she? It must be linked to her emotions somehow, and it made him wonder what had happened to provoke the furious assault from the elements the night before.
Ariston snapped out of his stupor and chased after her. “Hey, not so fast!” A thought started taking root in his mind. He’d been excited about her before, but if he was right... Gods, he couldn’t let her escape. Not if there was a chance.
Brunette was magical in nature, affecting the elements. The timing was too good to be true. Ariston had sought one of her kind for as long as he’d been a satyr, and if she turned out being a nymph, she was also his savior. Unfortunately, his salvation continued putting distance between them. She may have the upper hand in the rain, but he knew the forest well. He’d capture her like the legends of old, and she’d be his. Mine!
She had revealed herself to him. Perhaps not intentionally, yet she had. All he needed was Brunette to desire him enough to take him as a lover under the Satyr Moon. He smiled. Ariston was rusty when it came to true seduction, without the use of magic, but he enjoyed a challenge. He could be free, mortal, could finally have a family, grow old, and live a normal human life.
Brunette glanced over her shoulder and gasped. Did she think he’d allow her to reveal herself and just frolic away like she didn’t know what was at stake for him? As long as she didn’t find a body of water to hide in, he’d catch her. A wood nymph or mountain nymph would have already vanished, disguised as a tree or whatnot, but rain was water, and she was a rare water nymph to have such influence over the elements.
When Brunette veered to the left, he went right, slipping effortlessly through tangled limbs and hurtling over fallen trunks. Ariston slowed his pace and crept alongside her. She dawdled to glance behind her.
He stepped into her path while her head was turned, and she ran smack into his chest. Ariston reached out and steadied her, wrapping his arms around her lithe frame, allowing a quick grope of her ass in the process. Satyrs cop a feel. It’s a thing. The material of her shirt was damp, her flesh beneath it, chilled. Close to her, he could smell the precipitation on her skin, mixed with a lavender scent of something she’d bathed in or rubbed onto her body.
“Watch where you’re going. If you continue playing hard to get, you could hurt yourself,” he mumbled against her hair, smiling at the moment realization of who held her kicked in. She stiffened and shoved him away from her, hard. He let her, using the opportunity to admire her beauty while she glared at him furiously. Ariston’s gaze dropped below her neckline. Her nipples were clearly visible through the wet, white shirt and cotton sports bra underneath. Without thinking, he added, “My, my, white is a lovely color on you.”
Brunette crossed her arms, glaring daggers. “Pervert. Why can’t you leave me alone?”
Ha. Ariston knew she’d call him that. “I’m the pervert? Who was the one spying on me earlier? Enjoy the show?”
“I wasn’t spying. I heard music, and I wanted to see where it was coming from. You’re the one running around naked. Who does that?”
He shrugged. “Unfortunately, you walked right into something predestined to happen for a very long time. If your mother or sisters had warned you good and proper like all the others, you’d have known better.” Thank the gods she hadn’t.
Indistinguishable emotions flickered across her face. “I don’t have a family. I grew up in foster care.” Brunette glanced away, seething. At him or at herself, Ariston couldn’t tell. He was sure she hadn’t meant to share that information with him, but it explained why she hadn’t known to hide from him. Why she’d followed his song instead of heeding it as a warning and running the opposite way. No one had warned her. She wasn’t taught how to avoid satyrs and probably didn’t even know she was nymph. Brunette had absolutely no idea what she’d stumbled into. Should Ariston enlighten her, that bombshell was sure to go over well.
“I’m sorry about your past, but the Fates have put you in my path for a reason. So you aren’t going anywhere, except with me.”
That claimed her attention. “My boyfriend is back in the direction I came from. All I have to do is scream and he will be here. He’s big and strong, and he’d kick your ass seven ways from Sunday.”
Yet she hadn’t thought to scream when he’d chased her. The corner of his mouth tipped up into a smirk. She had to know he’d called her bluff. He’d seen her lone camp gear sitting in the bushes as he’d chased after her. “I’d love to see him try. However, if there is a boyfriend lurking in these woods, he’s taking a bit of a nap. You see, the song I played earlier tends to mak
e men a bit sleepy when their girlfriends decide to follow it. Besides, not even a husband or a surly father could save you from your purpose now. I’d even go as far as fighting them for you.”
“Please, don’t hurt me. I’m a good person. I’ll leave, and I won’t tell anyone I saw you. I won’t report you, or this, or anything. I won’t even tell my boyfriend, just...please...” She blinked rapidly.
Ariston’s resolve wavered. Guilt tore at his chest, and he rubbed at it. He’d come across as a creep, way too strong and weird. He had hooves, for gods’ sakes! Perhaps he should let her go. Let her continue living blissfully unaware of her true nature. He’d let Daphne leave, and even though in his heart he knew it was the decent thing to do, he’d cursed himself for it for centuries.
Damn the Fates for what I’m about to do. He wanted to be human again. Finally, the chance had presented itself to him a second time, and she had no knowledge of anything. Ariston would turn her world upside down, and not just sexually. Of course, he only had a week to convince her to accept him.
“I’m not going to harm you,” Ariston softened his tone. “But I can’t let you leave until after the eclipse. I need your help with something important. Afterward, you can go...if you wish.”
She turned her head, hunting for an escape. “What if I don’t want to help you?”
“You will. You might not now, but you’ll crumble under my method of persuasion.”
“I doubt that.”
Ariston gave her a full grin. “I’m going to enjoy proving you wrong.”
Brunette gaped at him, but she didn’t give a retort before she attempted to run from him again, evidently deciding escape was her best option. Again. Too bad I can’t allow you to leave. Ariston laughed as he followed. She’d tire out eventually, but he wouldn’t.
He almost had her, almost wrapped his arms around her slender waist, when Brunette slid through a slippery patch of mud and away from him. A resounding plop echoed through the pit pit pat of the rain and the thunder roaring in the distance. She didn’t get up.
Ariston hurried over to her, all amusement fading. When he lifted her head to check for damage, he saw the knotted, upraised tree root responsible for knocking her unconscious. The rain stopped, almost as suddenly as it had begun. She is definitely causing the weather changes.
Since there didn’t seem to be any damage aside from the bash she took to her skull, Ariston scooped Brunette into his arms. Something about her stirred him, more than sexually. He stared down at her, not quite believing she existed, as her warm body against his sent sparks of awareness through his veins.
His nymph was lovely. She was also brave, quick-witted, and smart. Ariston couldn’t ask for a better combination in a woman. Running from him had been wise, and luckily for her, he couldn’t act on his less than chaste intentions. Yet. It would give him time to endear himself to her.
“Never give up, Ariston. You will find your nymph one day. Not now, but one day. I saw her, and she is beautiful. Keep her safe.” Daphne’s words from long ago rang in his head.
Was Brunette who she’d foreseen? Ariston pressed a hand against her cheek and swallowed. Merciful Zeus, could he actually convince her to stay with him? Could he earn her trust, her desire?
What was he supposed to keep her safe from other than himself?
Chapter Four
As far as weird dreams went, Lily believed she’d hit the quota for years to come. Naked goatmen...what were they called in mythology? Minotaur? No, those had the torso of a man and the head of a bull. Her recollection of legendary creatures was too badly jumbled. Good Lord, is the room spinning? Wait...room?
Lily bolted up in the bed—the really soft, cushiony bed which smelled pleasantly of forest and sandalwood—and nearly gave herself whiplash taking in the surroundings. There were no buildings in this stretch of land, supposedly, other than a couple ranger watchtowers. Except those were miles upon miles apart from each other, and without a copy of the map she was shooting blind in locating one. Either the compasses had maneuvered Donovan and her way off course, or that sneaky Mytho-Nightmare had hidden his cozy little luxury cabin in the middle of nowhere. Who knew what kind of inexplicably diabolical deeds he’d been up to? Oh God, who knew what kind of inexplicably diabolical deeds he was going to do to her! Well, try to, anyway. If he thought she would lie down and take it, he was way wrong.
She patted herself to ensure she still wore everything she’d put on and noticed the bandage missing from her hand, the wound clean and healing. He’d cleaned her cut? At least it didn’t seem like he’d molested her while she’d been unconscious. Not that she was convinced otherwise. Naked goatmen didn’t seem the type that wouldn’t peek into her blouse or cop a feel while depositing women into their beds.
In all fairness, he had a really nice set up. The headboard was a light colored oak to match the rest of the furniture in the room, only a few shades lighter than the walls. Ivy and other plants complimented the neutral tones of wood all around with splashes of green. There wasn’t much else in terms of decor, other than a few Grecian urns. One depicted an aroused goatman chasing a cluster of naked women. She supposed the figure was blond; the urn only contained a coppery color and black, and the goatman seemed the only figure shown without jet black hair. Was it him? Nah...
“Oh, good, you’re awake. I worried I might’ve killed you. You slept through the whole night and most of today.”
She’d been out for a whole day? He could have done all kinds of dastardly things in that time!
The Half-Goat Fiend stood in the doorway, and Lily hadn’t even heard him approach. You’d think Hoof Boy wouldn’t be very silent clopping around...except...he had normal feet, as one would expect a human to possess. He was barefoot, accentuating the missing hooves, and wore jeans and a T-shirt. He appeared every bit the type of man Lily dreamed about following into a secluded cabin and making sweet, sweet love to. Keyword being dreamed. In reality, it was really freaking creepy. Fantasies were fun in theory, but when anything remotely similar happened in real life, it was terrifying and not at all sexy.
Her gaze traveled the length of the blond man. Okay, maybe a little sexy, but still creepy. Had it all been a really convincing costume he had on? The ram horns from before no longer framed his head; nothing out of the ordinary about him, other than being too attractive for his own good. Perhaps she really had gone insane. Stress from a bad break up and anxiety from being lost would be good reasons to start seeing horny goatmen. Maybe she should be thankful she’d banged her head so hard, righting her perception of things.
“You’re staring at my feet again.” He sounded amused. His smile confirmed as much.
“I think I’m losing my mind.”
“No, far from it. I can conceal it, you know. Freaks people out when it looks like you have animal parts, even if the parts that count are human.” He winked.
Her gaze moved to his groin at his words. Lily had gotten a good look at said part earlier, and she found herself attempting—and failing—not to remember how, um, blessed he’d been.
“If you are going to stare at that, I can take my clothes back off. I don’t really care for them anyway.”
“Keep your clothes on,” Lily said way too quickly for her own liking. “Sorry, but where am I? I don’t want any trouble. I need to get back to my boyfriend.” Okay, he was her ex, who ditched her, but Mister Thinks-He’s-Half-Goat would have to accept the lie so she could head back to civilization and sanity.
He frowned. “The ‘I’ve got a boyfriend’ ruse hasn’t worked on me long in the past. So you know.”
“Well, I’m sorry you are such a pig, then. It should matter if someone’s involved or not. You don’t have the right to make a play for an unavailable woman.” He’d made a remark yesterday as well about how Donovan would have been napping while she followed his song. He hadn’t seemed to gloat about it, but he’d presented it as a cold, hard truth and nothing else. Lily wasn’t sure how she’d picked so much up from h
is tone, yet she had.
The man leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms. His long hair fell around his shoulders and made him look savage, but beautiful. Not in a dainty way, but in a rugged warrior of olde way. Recalling her earlier Viking comparison, she bit back a groan. Lily had a weakness for Nordic men. Except this guy, despite the blond hair and blue eyes, definitely didn’t hail from the north. His accent sounded European, but not from the Scandinavian region. She glanced at the urns, then back to the man. Would she be correct to assume he was Greek? Goatmen were a Greek thing, she thought, and opened her mouth to question his heritage when he finally responded to her previous comment.
“Maybe I don’t have a right, but look at it this way: I give women the option of a good time, and they can accept or refuse. Many accept. I attribute it all to the fact some women romanticize about situations like this. A mysterious stranger in the woods, one that can satisfy them in ways their men apparently cannot. It’s a fantasy made reality, and when it’s over there are no consequences.” Yet he’d torn his gaze away from her when he’d spoken, making her believe he didn’t enjoy his part in it.
That was a weird conclusion.
Of course he enjoyed it. He’d been all over that blonde woman.
Lily should’ve freaked out the way she had earlier, but she remained calm—barely. Even though she knew she should be worried for her safety, and confusion mixed with worry for Donovan’s whereabouts, she had a peculiar sense of...belonging? Yeah, she bumped her head pretty hard. He was a womanizer, possibly even a dangerous predator who molested female campers. She’d seen the other woman with her own eyes though, and she had been all about a piece of goatman. Thinking about that made Lily a bit a squirmy.
The Cursed Satyroi: Volume One Collection Page 32