Author: C. D. Gorri
Date: 2023-02-07 00:00:00+00:00
Description: He's a bull in a china shop, but she's not taking any crap! Fanny Meyers' name is the butt of every joke in the Underworld- pun intended. Wanting to advertise her pottery shop, Kilning It , Fanny decides to sponsor a night of Speed Dating at the Underworld Café. After all, her place is just the thing for second dates, offering couples' classes in the art of ceramics crafting. It all seems like a great idea until the two females who run it want her as a client! Can this half-Demon Witch survive a night of Speed Dating with some of the Underworld's randiest denizens? Asterion is a former Prince
Publisher: Naughty Nights Press LLC

ASTERION

SPEED DATING WITH THE DENIZENS OF THE UNDERWORLD

BOOK TWENTY-ONE

C.D. GORRI

CONTENTS

Asterion

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Epilogue

Watch for the other books

Other Titles by C.D. Gorri

About C.D. Gorri

Asterion

Speed Dating with the Denizens of the Underworld

Book Twenty-One

Copyright © 2022

C.D. Gorri

ISBN: 978-1-77357-456-1

978-1-77357-457-8

Published by Naughty Nights Press LLC

Cover Art By King Cover Designs

Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

Sale of this book without a front cover may be unauthorized. If this book is coverless, it may have been reported to the publisher as "unsold or destroyed" and neither the author nor the publisher may have received payment for it.

No part of this book may be adapted, stored, copied, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

To everyone who has ever let their mouth run away without their brain,

It happens. Don’t be afraid to apologize, and moooove on (cow joke). Otherwise, you might miss out on something great.

Del mare alla stella,

C.D. Gorri

ASTERION

He’s a bull in a china shop, but she’s not taking any crap!

Fanny Meyers’ name is the butt of every joke in the Underworld—pun intended. Wanting to advertise her pottery shop, Kilning It, Fanny decides to sponsor a night of Speed Dating at the Underworld Café. After all, her place is just the thing for second dates, offering couples’ classes in the art of ceramics crafting.

It all seems like a great idea until the two females who run it want her as a client! Can this half-Demon Witch survive a night of Speed Dating with some of the Underworld’s randiest denizens?

Asterion is a former Prince of Crete, and he’s searching for his mate. But this bullheaded Shifter is a tough sell. After all, he does not like movies, hates games—especially mazes—and he loathes loud music of any kind.

Can a spoiled Shifter prince and a Witchy artist with a bad attitude fall in love in this steamy paranormal romance tale?

Asterion is book twenty-one in the Speed Dating with the Denizens of the Underworld shared world series, filled with saucy half-Demon Witches, brazen Bull Shifters, and more.

PROLOGUE

Asterion stomped on the ground, snorting puffs of smoke through his large nostrils. The heavy brass septum between the two holes was a torturous reminder of those who had sought to control him for so long. Magicked to be unbreakable, it irked him that his shifted form bore such a miserable token of less than happy times.

Growling, he pawed at the packed earth beneath his thick, black hooves, sending clouds of dark, red dust floating through the air.

Could shrubs and flowers even grow in this place?

It was the only thing that gave him pause as he surveyed his new home.

The terrain was rocky and arid—desolate even—from his point of view atop this outskirt of the scenery below. He snorted and shook his head roughly. It did not matter. This was home now, and he would find a way to make it work.

He had arrived after months of trekking through the unknown. At last, Asterion was in the Underworld. He gazed at the village-like settlement below, wondering at the modern looking homes and shops. Not at all what he’d expected, but maybe that was a good thing.

A perfect place to start his new life.

After being villainized and imprisoned for so long, he was more than ready to settle down and have a real life. The desire to find a mate—someone to love, to build a real home and family with—burned inside him like a fire that refused to go out.

Leaving that half-life up top was the best damn thing that had ever happened to him. No one respected him or knew who he was. The Minotaur was pure myth now. His beast had been misrepresented, feared, and hated for centuries.

But what could he do about it?

Not one single thing.

Asterion was tired of the false reputation assigned him—not to mention the grievous treatment he had to endure because of it. Accused of cannibalism, he’d been damned to wander the labyrinth near the palace of Knossos for eons with only one old fool of a servant to tend his princely needs.

Luckily, Alfred—the servant he’d once thought immortal—had died—well, lucky for Asterion, not for Al, er, anyway—and suddenly, a mysterious golden lock to the outside world had been revealed within the labyrinth.

Turned out, the old beggar held the key to Asterion’s prison—literally. And all this time, he had thought the gods had forsaken him! After turning the key in the lock, Asterion took a fortifying breath and then he’d pushed the gates open.

That first step had been the hardest.

But he plowed on, starting his journey on a positive note. He kept his head high, horns low, and passed the throngs of females who’d been left on his doorstep. All of them were sacrifices to his supposedly voracious appetites, but he had no use for any of them. Pointedly ignoring their pleas and screams for him to eat them, Asterion walked on.

As if he would stoop so low as to consume the flesh of mere humans. He was a Bull Shifter, not a Werewolf—and not just any old run of the mill stud. Asterion was the Minotaur—aka the Cretan Bull.

The only one of his kind.

A legendary beast with virgin fur and horns blacker than soot. His hide was pure white, with no markings or blemishes. The only parts of him that were not that untainted shade of alabaster were his beast’s eyes, horns, and hooves.

When shifted, his eyes glowed red like fire, and were heavily lined as if with kohl. He had enormous cloven hooves, both blacker than pitch. Those deadly appendages were strong enough to hold the over three ton beast that Asterion shared his existence with. Last, were his horns. Huge and lethal, those bony structures began as white but were black just at the tips, stained as if by Demon blood, or so the poets had said.

Heavily muscled, he was easily twice the size of the human world’s largest bulls. With smooth shoulders, powerful, straight legs, and a free-moving gait, Asterion’s Bull was the envy of all the other cloven-hooved beasts—even certain prominent members of the Underworld—if the rumors were true.

He supposed the rumors were true, since knock-kneed, bow-legged Demons did not bring in all that many sacrifices these days. Life was a popularity contest, even among minor deities. For Demons and monsters like Asterion, their worth was often weighed by what the common folk were willing to pay in tribute to them—sacrifices, offerings, prayers, and the like.

People always paid more for beauty, and he was one bodaciously beautiful bovine, if he did say so himself. As the females lining the exterior of his former abode could attest to, Asterion was not lacking for sacrifices. He simply was not interested.

Those virgin sacrifices with their “eat me” signs and ear-piercing screams as he walked past them—like he was some sort of human rockstar—were mooing up the wrong bull. He liked his women a little more subtle than that. At least, he thought he might. Being a prisoner in a labyrinth for centuries put a serious cramp in his style.

Fine—he could admit it to himself. The man had no love life to speak of. His experience with the opposite sex added up to some very minor making out sessions with a couple of virgin sacrifices who ran screaming the second they saw his, er, manparts swell. To his consternation and epic frustration, Asterion the mighty Minotaur was a virgin.

Freaking sacrifices, all they wanted was for him to devour them.

Gross.

And no matter how many times he told them—contrary to popular belief—Asterion did not eat meat, they would get all angry with him. Nothing was worse than an ornery female who did not listen to reason. After the first few times, he’d stopped trying to explain himself.

How many ways could he say the obvious?

Um, helloooo.

I’m a Bull.

Vegetarian.

Duh.

That was just another dark spot in his life. He’d had to put up with all sorts of nonsense from other Shifters when he was a calf, but that was centuries ago. He still recalled the fights and verbal lashings he’d received from his parents after he had gored a certain pug-nosed Satyr with his then still-budding horns.

The fight wasn’t his fault, though. The Satyr had called Asterion’s mother a teat-dragging, grass-eating cow. Two things were very wrong with that statement. One, his mother was Queen Pasiphae, and she was human—not Shifter born—and two, as his foster father, King Minos, had told him often, there was no shame in being a vegetarian.

So what if Asterion preferred a nice meal of sorghum and wheat silage?

And if he chose to spend hours grazing in rolling green and gold fields of tall, sweet grass or stacking bales of hay for fun, who was to say that was wrong?

No one should make him feel ashamed of his animal or his likes and dislikes.

Damn.

He still missed the old man.

Minos and his mother had been very good parents, but even they could not stop his fate. Imprisoned, scorned, and alone, he’d lived for so long in his own company—well, his and Alfred’s—that Asterion could not believe he was now free.

He puffed a cloud of smoky breath from his Bull’s nostrils. His beast’s inner fire always ran hot. He was a Shifter, yes, but he had other innate powers his kind did not usually exhibit—fire breath, unmatched strength, and a fierce loyalty he had yet to lay at anyone’s feet.

He had his shortcomings, too. Asterion’s animal was mighty, but also a tad hard to control. Quick to temper too. That last trait had cost him the one thing he’d craved throughout his life—a friend.

It had been lonely growing up a Greek prince with a giant, raging beast inside of him. Tricked in his youth, he’d been imprisoned, but instead of iron bars, his was a gilt palace with a large courtyard and a garden maze—the very reason he hated hedges to this day—but it was still a jail.

Left alone with only a servant, and the odd sacrificial virgin. Asterion never ate them, but he had attempted a dinner or two—disastrous though they’d proved—he’d really just spent the long centuries just trying to control his animal.

Freedom was frightening, but at least now he could control his Bull, and attempt a life. After hearing tales of Eve and Aphrodite’s Wednesday night Speed Dating events at the Underworld Café from one of the latest sacrifices to set up camp outside the palace, something had clicked—not the woman, who kept screaming and waving her hands in front of her face all night as if she were about to faint—but something else.

Hearing that news had felt very right. He might not know what Speed Dating was, but his Bull liked it. Deciding it was his destiny to find out, Asterion set off on this journey after Alfred’s fortunately unfortunate demise.

With his regal, and bullish head focused on the village below, Asterion loosed a thunderous growl, and pawing the hard ground once more for good measure, he ran downhill—to his future.

CHAPTER 1

Fanny Meyers unpacked the latest crate of red clay and stacked it on top of the shelf in the back of workroom 1, careful to keep it moist by wrapping it in a soaked cloth. It was a task easier said than done in the Underworld.

“Curse this heat,” she muttered.

Her shop, Kilning It, would open in a few minutes, and she had a nine o’clock class to teach. She loved all things pottery, always had. There was something so natural and magical about allowing her hands to create from unmolded clay. It was kind of godlike, she supposed, and bit her lip.

Not that she thought she was a god, or anything. But being an artist, a sculptor, meant working with her hands and creating from something so basic, the results often took her breath.

But how to make a living from it?

That had been her parents’ biggest worry, but Fanny had found a solution. A pottery shop where she not only sold her wares but also taught them. Kilning It was an awesome addition to the suddenly thriving Underworld. With so many newly mated couples making it their home, the village was really shaping up.

Residents were settling down and opening new businesses, splitting their time between the topside and below. She hardly ever traveled to Earth anymore. Being a half-Demon Witch kinda put a stop to all that. Controlling her witchy magic was one thing, but stopping her aggressive Demon side from smiting even the most innocent human joshing had proven difficult for Fanny Meyers.

She had her parents to blame for that, choosing, as they had, to name her after her maternal grandmother. It wasn’t like she got to pick. Besides, it was very fashionable in the 1900s, when she’d been born.

Being the only daughter of an Earth Witch and a Fire Demon, Fanny had lived almost all of her childhood in the human world. Her parents had decided to relocate the entire family to the Underworld decades ago, and now, they were cruising the River Styx for their hundred and twentieth anniversary.

So, yeah, Fanny was the butt of everyone’s jokes—literally. If she never heard another ass joke, it would be too soon.

Sigh.

It was always, “Hey Fanny, what has two butts and kills people? —An ass-assin!” or “Hey Fanny, bet I can guess when you wake up—at the butt crack of dawn!”

Idiots.

Organizing the workroom, and her thoughts for the day, she frowned as she tried to come up with a solution for their project. Her students had voted, and they were to begin work on tiny planters that morning. Not as easy a concept as some might think.

First, there was the very delicate molding of the inner bowl that would house the plant, then the design, and, of course, establishing a drain in the base. Next, was the problem with filling the planter, considering they lived in the Underworld where the air was so hot and dry, plants were dying to go there—literally.

You are literally not funny, Fanny.

As if she needed the reminder, she snorted and rolled her eyes at herself. The only thing remotely humorous about Fanny was her name. Well, not to her, but at least, it brought joy to others.

Thanks Mom and Dad.

Her parents loved her, but there was just no getting away from her name. Maybe that was why she’d built her pottery store and work barn all the way at the very edge of where civilization began in the Underworld. Her closest neighbor was a ten minute walk, and that was just fine with Fanny.

She liked her privacy, enjoyed her space, and was able to practice her craft in peace and quiet. The earthy scents of clay, fresh water, and minerals filled the air, and she smiled to herself as she strolled through the workroom and into the next. She set about making sure each of the three small sheds she’d designated as workrooms 1, 2, and 3 were fully stocked with supplies and materials. Then, she went on to the kilns and checked the temperatures were just right. She had two operating at this time, and they were quite wonderful.

Last, she crossed the small yard that sat between sheds and the main store, which she’d created out of an abandoned barn. Next door, was a huge open lot where a farmer had once tried, unsuccessfully, to grow crops—as if that would work in this harsh climate.

Today was going to be a good day. She could tell. The Underworld’s sky was a deep, dark purple with hints of red streaking through, proclaiming the coming morning. She had always been an early riser. Had to be, if she was going to get her ovens to temperature before her first class began.

The store shelves were lined with her art. She sold glazed and unpainted ceramics of her own design and took on many a commissioned work. From ornaments and trinkets, to statues and gargoyles, she worked wonders with clay. Fanny had many patrons, and they appreciated her artistry and designs.

She had finally found her place.

The store smelled like a mixture of clay, earth, and the straw she used to pack crates with her work. She turned on the lights and checked on the boxes that were to be shipped that day. Fanny stopped and ran her hands over one of the labels.

She was quite proud of the collection of tiny orb spiders she’d created for a client. They were to be mounted to the walls of the exclusive boutique, Metamorphosis, owned by her friend Arachne, and commissioned by her mate, Griffin Jara. The hot-as-sin Demon was a legate in the Daemonium Guard, and truth be told, Fanny thought he was scary AF.

Such a scaredy cat, Fanny.

She ignored her annoying inner voice, since she was 100% correct about the man. Anyone who thought the legate had gone soft after finding his mate learned the hard way they were mistaken. Griffin Jara was one tough Demon. According to Arachne, he was loving, patient, and kind, but maybe that was for her eyes and ears only.

Must be nice, Fanny mused, and stacked the box on top of the table with the other orders that were ready to go.

Her Demon half growled, and Fanny rolled her eyes. She was pathetic. For a half-Demon Witch, Fanny Meyers was such a girl sometimes. She liked all sorts of mushy things someone who lived in the Underworld probably shouldn’t. Like poetry, flowers, puppies, kittens, art, and tea.

She was boring—not tough or feisty—and she would rather be making a garden gnome out of red clay than the roaring hellhounds and terrifying gargoyles she was so often asked to design.

Sigh.

Oh well. A girl had to eat. Besides, she was not a critic. She was a sculptor. One who was happy to fill her customers’ needs.

She hummed to herself as she opened the front doors wide and flipped the switch for the overhead fans to on. It was going to be a scorcher.

Luckily, her Demon half loved the heat.

As for her witchy side, well, the huge ceiling fans attached to the rafters inside the old, converted barn kept the place cool enough.

Fanny was still humming as she walked behind the counter and took out her schedule, smiling when she looked over the names of the students who would be coming today.

Business was booming. She should be happier, but her nose was twitching, and when that happened, well, it was not good.

That was her itchy twitchy Witchy nose, as her mom used to call it. It only happened at certain prescient times—not her best memories as a budding young Witch. Whenever Fanny got feelings, things, er, sure got interesting. Her heart would start to pound—like it was now. Her blood roared like thunder in her ears—again, like now. And she would see strange images like smoke or dark clouds just before a vision would start.

Super weird because even though it was the butt crack—no joke intended—of dawn in the Underworld, and no one else was around, Fanny was hearing and seeing all of that right about now. Only thing was, she was 99.9% sure, this was not a vision, but something actually real.

Fanny blinked, hard.

“What the heck is that?” she whispered, and stared at the enormous cloud of red and black dust. The zephyr was moving at an incredible speed. It was getting closer and—oh fuck—it was headed right for her shop!

“STOP!” Fanny screamed the command. Her eyes were tearing, they were open so wide as she stared down whatever the hell it was charging her.

But it was too late.

The enormous beast—and it was a beast, for she saw horns and a hide white as the driven snow behind the cloud of Underworld ash it had kicked up—was moving too damn fast to stop.

A deep bawling noise bellowed forth from the thing as it skidded, pulling back on its huge body. The creature was obviously trying to slow its reckless pace, but it wasn’t enough. The monster bellowed as he crashed right into her shop, taking half of her stock and the south wall with him.

Shocked and appalled, Fanny gasped, spitting out dust and narrowly avoiding a part of the ceiling that came crashing down as she raced around the outside of the barn to take in the damage.

“What the hell?” she muttered, continuing to spit chunks of ash and dust from her lips.

Her work.

Her store.

They were ruined!

A deep, sorrowful groan sounded from beneath the rubble.

She turned, eyes narrowed. Her inner scaredy cat wanted to run, but Fanny was half-Demon too. That part of her wanted to fight. She tore off toward the creature and grabbed a broken hunk of wood from off its head. The thing growled and moved back.

Oh boy was it big.

She gulped as more of the monster was revealed with every shake and shimmy of debris from off of its hide. Fanny blinked slowly, wondering if she was dealing with some unknown breed of hellhound before she was finally able to make out the incredible, hulking—

“Cow?” she shrieked, waving her hands at the monster before shouting to the skies. “Are you serious, universe? A giant freaking MooMoo Cow just destroyed my store! For the love of hellhound fur, what the funk are you doing here?” she growled and pointed at the stupid animal, only to realize it was no animal.

She had one second of knowing before the air hummed with magic.

Uh oh, Shifter.

Her witchy powers sprang to life, red sparks zipped and zapped all over her body, culminating at her fingertips into tiny little magically charged pulses that she was more than ready to aim at the oversized cheeseburger.

Once the dust settled, Fanny had to stop herself from staring. In front of her was the tallest, widest, sexiest—and did she mention completely butt ass naked—male she had ever seen.

“Holy cow,” she mumbled.

There was a pregnant pause as she watched the male Shifter come back into himself. He was ridiculously gorgeous. Her fingers itched to touch his body to see if he was real. So beautiful was this stranger, Fanny thought he could have been carved from marble—or molded from clay.

“Cow? You called me a cow?” he growled the question softly, and Fanny felt a pull deep down in her gut.

She was not afraid of his beastly words, or the red flame she saw flash in his impossibly dark, chocolate-colored eyes. In fact, something inside her seemed to spark in response. Her magic buzzed, dancing along her fingertips, and her inner Demon snarled softly, sniffing the air surrounding him.

He smelled good. Like clean fur and man, spring grass, and smoky, sweet fire. Fanny sucked in another deep breath.

Wait, what the fuck?

She shook her head, wanting to remove those pesky little feelings. Something was so wrong with her if she could find the psycho cow man who ruined her business attractive, right?

Sigh.

“Yeah. I called you a cow, and what?” she muttered, and gestured with her hand for him to get on with it.

“I am not a cow, young female. I am Asterion,” he said, waiting for what, she had no idea. She stared, and he exhaled, a defeated sound if she ever heard one.

“Have you never heard of me?”

“Um, no, should I have?”

“Well, yeah. I am Asterion, Prince of Crete, natural son of Poseidon and Pasiphae, stepson of King Minos.”

“Sorry, no. I mean, I have heard of your dad. Wow, Poseidon got it on with a cow, huh? You Greeks sure are freaky AF.” Fanny stifled her laugh when it looked like the guy was going to blow his top. “Oops. Sore subject?” she asked.

“NO! My mother is not a cow. Not. A. Cow. For the love of—” He gritted his teeth. “Calm down, Asterion, Try again,” he mumbled to himself.

Fanny watched him covertly as he pulled himself together. Completely drawn in by the flex of his curved muscles with every mooove he made.

Ha ha, she thought, cow joke.

But seriously, holy moly, the bovine boy was built like a brick house.

He snapped his focus to her once more, and she raised her eyebrows expectantly.

“Okay, so you do not recognize my name, but I have also been referred to as the Cretan Bull or, if you prefer, the Minotaur. I am no MooMoo Cow,” he finished with a deep rumbling growl.

The strange and beautiful man stood tall and proud, speaking to her with such arrogance, he broke whatever spell had come over her.

Fanny narrowed her eyes, and considered zapping him right on his massive, bull-sized ball sack.

“I don’t give a fuck what you are, mister. You broke my damn shop,” she snarled.

“That is of no importance,” he said, turning to look at the area. “You must take me to Aphrodite and Eve, I have wish to sign up for their Speed Dating—”

“Are you serious? Hello! Broken shop.”

“Woman, I need—”

“You’re gonna need a freaking ambulance, buddy, if you don’t tell me how you plan to fix this mess!”

“Lady, I wish to—”

“I don’t care what you wish for, pal. And the only place you’re going is to jail for vandalism! I hope you’re insured.”

“Quiet, please. I cannot think with you shrieking like that. Dear gods, how can you stand that decibel?” Asterion groaned and covered his ears. “I am sorry about this, but I must leave. I have important business—” the giant beefcake started, but this time Fanny was not listening.

She set her magic free, zapping him right on his ridiculously muscled keister. Her magic was wild at times, reacting to her emotional state—and for whatever reason, she was feeling pretty dang emotional over this walking stick of jerky. Ignoring her discomfort, Fanny looked back at her pottery store.

Her poor garden gnomes!

Milky the moo cow over there destroyed an entire shelf of them. Not to mention the fairy ornaments, dragons, wolves, and Pegasus figurines she’d started making for her younger clientele. She should not have capped him, but Fanny just couldn’t help herself.

Really, he should be grateful she’d only used a little of her mojo and not any of her inherited elemental magic. One zap of her fire powers and Fanny would have had one big ass roast beef on her front yard!

“Ouch!” was all the big bovine bastard got out before falling face forward on a sharp looking pile of rubble.

That’s gonna leave a mark!

But Fanny was not sorry. In fact, she was smiling as she called the Daemonium Guard and asked them to send someone to her place right away.

“And bring a tractor trailer. Yep, that’s right,” she said, trying not to stare at the passed out Shifter—Prince whoever of whatever hole he crawled out of.

“A big one,” Fanny added, glancing thoughtfully over his seven-foot frame.

CHAPTER 2

BEEP. BEEP. GRIND. SHARP WHINE.

What in the name of the gods was that sound?

Asterion blinked slowly, trying to gather his thoughts. One moment, he’d been standing atop a cliff, overlooking his new home, and the next, his Bull had gone completely mad. The animal inside him had always been rebellious, but this was the first time since he’d been able to shift that the Bull had completely taken over, leaving none of the man in charge.

He remembered looking down at the village below, the Underworld, his new home, and planning to start his hunt for a mate with Speed Dating. He’d spied a large, empty field with weeds sprouting here and there. Next, his gaze had rested on the neighboring barn-like structure, and then—Witch!

He’d met a Witch.

That had to be what the blasted female was, the one who’d zapped him right on his—agh!

Asterion snarled and grunted as he tried to stand. The lingering soreness on his buttocks burned like fire, and dammit, he was angry as hell. Okay, so he remembered catching sight of that vexing little female from his perch on top of the cliff.

She’d stood, hovering in the large doorway of what he later realized was a shop of some kind—obviously using herself as bait. She’d been waiting for any passing male with her perceived beauty, only to attack him for her nefarious deeds!

Idiot that he was, Asterion had fallen for it. Even his beast had been intrigued by her full figure and pleasant humming. No, intrigued was not the word to describe how his Bull had reacted to her presence.

Bewitched!

Now, that was a better one.

She’d been standing in a flowy dress—the same shade of pink as his favorite cactus flower—and his animal simply lost it. Not quite a red flag, but close enough.

Unable to control his actions, he’d thundered down the hill, billowing clouds of red and black dust blinding him to his path, but the animal had known exactly where to go—toward the earthy, fresh grass scent that had called to him, reminding him of sweeter times before his imprisonment. The fragrance reminded him of home, or rather, what a real home should be, and not the place he’d been chained to throughout his life.

Mine.

Asterion jumped up, startled by the ridiculous appearance of that word whispered in his mind.

What is this?

More Magic.

He snarled at the thought of the she-Demon being inside his head. Everything he knew about Witches told him to tread carefully. They were secretive and powerful. Most important, Witches were not to be trifled with—and he had trespassed against this one grievously.

She was powerful. He could tell. Her innocent charm only made her all the more potent. He would simply have to double his efforts to guard against her wiles.

“I’m telling you what happened—”

“Fanny, why the hell did you tell me to bring a tractor trailer,” a large male snarled, and something stirred inside Asterion.

Fuck.

The Bull did not like the tone the man was using as he spoke to the Witch.

But wait—why should he care how someone spoke to her?

She’d zapped him!

“This oaf busted my shop without any due cause, and technically, you might need the trailer. He’s a freaking cow, Jara!” the Witch screeched.

“Not. A. Cow.” Asterion growled and stood, wavering on his feet.

Damn.

She packed a powerful zap if he was still fighting off the aftereffects of her powers.

“Are you the law here?” Asterion grumbled, moving toward them. He stopped beside the female, uncaring of his nudity as he spoke to the large, golden-skinned male who smelled like smoke.

Demon, his Bull supplied.

“I am Legate Griffin Jara,” the male stated calmly.

“What in the name of the gods is that horrible sound?” Asterion asked, covering his ears as the large mechanical vehicle stopped beside them.

A driver hung out of the window. “Yo Jara, I gotta get to another job. Peace out!” the spiky-haired Troll shouted over the terrible noise his machine was making.

“That is a Troll, and that vehicle is his truck. You see, it says Tommie T Tows All painted on the side there. Oh, and that ‘racket’ happens to be Twisted Sister.”

“Ah, she is twisted and therefore uncomfortable—I understand. Well, I hope his sister recovers and stops making that sound. Now, are you in charge here?”

The Demon blinked slowly, shaking his head as he removed a notebook and pencil from some unseen pocket.

“Like I said, I am Legate Griffin Jara, and because this barn is on the outskirts of the village, it falls under my purview. Now, are you responsible for that?” he asked, waving his hand toward the half dilapidated pile of rubble that had been the angry woman’s shop.

Guilt assailed Asterion as he watched her cheeks turn red with sadness, and he felt his insides stir. The woman wiped a tear from her cheek and lifted shards of pottery from the damage.

Shit.

He’d never felt more foolish in his life.

“Ruined, all of it,” she muttered.

“Legate Jara, I am afraid the answer is yes. I did cause this upset, but I assure you it was an accident—”

“Upset? Accident? You ran your big bovine bottom right through the front door! How much of an accident could it have been?”

Okay, not upset—more like mad as hell.

Asterion’s lips twitched, but he did not give in to the grin threatening his expression. It wasn’t that he was happy about all this, but he had to admit, the female was damn cute when she was emotional.

“Really, Fanny? Let the man speak,” Jara grumbled.

His Bull grumbled, wanting to headbutt the male for speaking to her like that, but Asterion stopped short. It was not his place to behave in such a way. Surely, she had a mate to stand up for her. The thought set his Bull to growling again.

What the hell was going on with him?

A residual effect of her Magic, perhaps?

After all, the Witch was nothing to him, other than a pain in his rear. Then he grinned.

“Your name is Fanny? Ha!”

“Is he fucking serious, Jara?” she growled, speaking to the legate and not him.

“Um, best not get on with the jokes until we figure this out,” Legate Jara replied.

Fanny was a fitting name in more ways than one, he mused as his gaze roamed over her shapely bottom. She’d turned her back on him and was bending over to retrieve more broken pieces of clay from the rubble.

“Sir? I don’t have all day,” Legate Jara said, gaining his attention once more.

“Ah, yes, well, you see, I was in my other form, minding my own business, when this female came traipsing outside fluttering about in her crimson—”

“It’s magenta,” she corrected, but Asterion ignored her.

“In this lighting, it was very hard to determine the exact shade of rose, but to my beast, it was red—”

“Your beast?” Jara asked.

“Yes, you see,” he said, standing tall, caring naught for his nudity—he was superb in both his human and his Shifter bodies. “I am Asterion, Prince of Crete—”

“Is that supposed to mean something to me, your hiney-ness?” the female hissed at him.

Asterion deflated a tad and rolled his eyes.

Did no one read history anymore?

Were there no poets left to sing songs of heroes and legends such as he?

He was the Cretan Bull!

People used to worship him!

He was a pillar of strength, a symbol of fertility, a, a—oh, fuck it.

Ugh.

“How about this one? I am the Minotaur? There! Ever heard of me?” he asked hopefully.

“You’re a Minotaur? Like some cow head dude?” the legate asked, scratching something down in his notebook. The sharpened tool he used created an irritating sound that hurt Asterion’s sensitive eardrums, and he winced against the confounded noise.

“No. I am not a Minotaur. I am the Minotaur. The one and only. The OG. The others are just cheap carbon copies—I am the Cretan Bull, for fuck’s sake! Not a cow head dude—whatever the hell that is!” he roared.

“Riiight,” Legate Jara said, ignoring the Witch who was now using her magic to separate the good pottery from the broken. “Well, seeing as how you admitted to being at fault here, Mr.—uh—Minostaur?” he asked, mispronouncing Minotaur again.

Shit.

Shit.

SHIT.

“Just call me Asterion.”

“Oookay—yeah, so, Assteerayon, you just admitted guilt, which means you can be punished—”

Why the heck could this male not say any of his titles or names correctly?

Wait—did he say punished?

“Punished? Punished how?” he asked, startled. This would not do. Asterion had a plan:

1. Arrive in the Underworld
2. Attend Speed Dating at the Underworld Cafe
3. Find his fated mate
4. Live happily ever after.

Nowhere in his plan did it say he would be found guilty and imprisoned or banished from the very place he had hoped to make his home. This was not okay. He could not let this happen.

No.

No.

NO.

“It depends. Fanny? Do you wish to press charges?”

“What would that mean?” the maddening Witch, with her tempting dress clinging to her high breasts and wide hips, stopped her progress and walked toward the men.

Asterion felt his manhood stirring, and for the first time since changing, wished he had some article of clothing to cover himself with should she get the wrong impression.

Would it really be wrong? His inner Bull asked.

Yes.

Snort.

The maddening beast was actually laughing at him!

Shut up.

Asterion growled. He did not want anything to do with the shrew! It had simply been a long time since he’d seen an interesting woman. Yes. That was the reason he could not take his eyes off her as she waited, biting her bottom lip, and sticking her hip out, her hands prone, one on each side, while listening to the legate’s proposal.

“Wait—what?”

“If you two can’t work this out, Prince Asteroid, you will face punishment from Lord Lucifer himself. Not something I recommend, by the way.”

Asterion gulped.

He did not want that.

Not at all.

“My lady, please, a word?” Asterion asked, and Witch Fanny narrowed her eyes at him.

He noticed they were a most unusual color, brown with swirls of mossy green and hints of yellow fire in the center. Her hair was full of glossy dark curls that looked warm as the fertile soil of the fantasy garden he’d imagined so many times in his mind. She was shapely as a woman should be, with bountiful curves that would fill even his large hands.

Beautiful.

“What do you want?” she asked warily.

“I beg your forgiveness on my trespass—”

“Wait! I can’t talk to you with your sausage flapping in the breeze, hang on a sec,” she muttered.

“Sausage?” he asked, frowning as she blushed an even brighter shade of crimson that made his inner beast growl deeper.

She was pretty when she blushed. Fanny turned and grabbed a cloth from a now empty, and broken, table, shaking it out before handing it to him. Her cheeks were burning, and Asterion bit back his grin.

So, the lady thought his form a distraction?

That was very interesting—not for the two of them, of course, but rather for other females. If she found his shape pleasing, then maybe others would as well. Promising news, indeed.

“Okay, make it snappy, Bessie.”

“Bessie? That is a feminine name.”

“You don’t like Bessie?” she asked, eyebrows arching over her dark-lashed, multi-colored orbs. “How about Buttercup? Clarabelle? Dottie?”

“Again,” he interrupted, eye twitching with the effort it took to rein in his temper. “Those are all female names. I am not a milk cow. I am the Cretan Bull, and you may call me Asterion.”

“I know! I’ll call you Ass for short. So Ass, what do you have to say for yourself?”

He was going to kill her.

Smoke poured from his nostrils, and Asterion was this close to shifting. Especially once he looked over and saw the legate, Griffin Jara, trying—and failing—to hold back his laughter.

“This is too good. Ass and Fanny. It’s like destiny!” the idiot Demon shouted, then snorted as he chuckled uproarously.

“No fair! I was trying to insult him, not me,” Fanny shouted, and a shock of purple magic shot forth from her fingers, completely destroying the carefully gathered pile of shattered clay she had built.

Asterion’s anger dissipated. Poor Witch. He did make a mess, and he should offer some way to repay her. He could not be banished. Not when he’d come this close.

Fanny was screeching about her loss of property and the damage to the old barn, but from what he could see, the bones were still there. The structure was sound—mostly. It just needed a little cosmetic work. Luckily, Asterion had spent a few decades studying architecture and modern structural design. He’d even worked on castle repairs himself, including installing electricity and indoor plumbing—two things he’d been extremely grateful for—back on Knossos.

He’d had to break up the boredom somehow. Now, it looked like all that time had been well spent. Some wood, some sheetrock, nails, bricks, mortar, and paint, and he’d have this place back to rights. He just needed time and tools.

“I think I have a solution that will work for all of us,” Asterion announced, disrupting their bickering.

“I hope you have deep pockets, Cotton ball,” she snarled.

Was it wrong the sound turned him on a little?

Possibly.

But Cotton ball?

Her tendency to call him obnoxious dairy cow nicknames had to end.

Perhaps a demonstration of his mighty strength would change the intriguing Witch’s mind. He watched her gaze flick to his makeshift toga, and felt a smirk replace his frown. Whatever her issues, the female seemed incapable of taking her eyes off him.

Her scent had sweetened with that short, blustering look, and he was curious as to the reason. He’d never spent so much time in the company of a woman—well, not unless she was a sacrifice to appease his monstrous appetites.

Blech.

He was curious and confused. Asterion shook his head to stop her witchery—for surely, she was weaving some spell to make him this befuddled. His focus returned to the legate, instead of the maddening, and somehow enticing, little Witch, and he spoke his proposal.

“In order to repay my debt to Witch Fanny—”

“Oh gods, please don’t call me that.”

“Witch Fanny? But you are—”

“Actually, if you are going to be technical about it, I’m a half-Demon Witch,” she interrupted and appeared bored, though the rapid pulse at the base of her throat suggested otherwise.

“In order to repay my debt to the half-Demon Witch Fanny Meyers—there, happy now?” he asked, waiting for her to nod before continuing. “I offer this solution. I have no money on my person, but I can offer my expertise in rebuilding this, uh, barn-like structure, and seeing it returned to its former, er, glory.”

That last bit was kind of a fib, seeing as how the place was not exactly a palace. In fact, it was quite old, and a tad musty.

Aside from her rather questionable taste in lawn figurines—the gnomes were quite cute, but ponies?

Really?

Annoying, the whole lot of them.

He could think of much more noble beasts than those pesky wannabes. She should offer her talents to creating sculptures of something strong, dependable—a symbol of potency and prosperous times.

Me, of course, his inner Bull snorted.

“You’re going to rebuild my shop?” she asked, clearly surprised.

“Yes, if it pleases you, half-Demon Witch Fanny, and you, as well, Legate Jara.”

“Well, I guess the bull is in Fanny’s court,” the Guard stated.

CHAPTER 3

“Oh, you are really proud of yourself for that one, aren’t you?” Fanny asked the idiot legate.

“I mean, yeah. Kinda.”

“What does it mean to have a bull in your court? Is this a legal hearing now?” Asterion queried, head cocked to the side.

“He means ball, not bull,” she said, frowning at both the half-naked Shifter and Legate Jara. “The ball is in my court.”

“Do I mean ball?” smirked the golden-skinned half-Demon. “Well, this seems fine, then. I will be off.”

“Oh, hang on! Don’t forget these for Arachne,” Fanny replied, racing to grab the box of custom spider statues she’d made for his mate’s boutique.

Thank goodness her uninvited guest only took out half of the storefront. He’d avoided the workrooms and kilns, as well as half of the store, including the register and the table with finished orders.

Thank fuck.

It was a wonder anything had survived. The man was enormous, and his animal was bigger than anything she had witnessed save for a Dragon, but those fuckers were gargantuan.

Asterion was her problem now, but without anything else to fall back on, he was better than nothing. Waiting for her insurance company to fix things could take forever.

She watched him standing there with the tablecloth she’d tossed at him tied elegantly around his body like some sort of Greek toga—a very short one—and frowned. The dress left much of his tanned, thick, Rugby player thighs on full display. She hated to admit it, but the dude was one fine specimen.

Fanny gulped. She’d always been a sucker for a man with muscular legs and a tight butt.

Fine, so she’d noticed.

How could she not?

Asterion had strutted about for a good ten minutes wearing nothing but his beefy birthday suit. Completely naked, she had to stare. It would have been a crime against Witchkind had she not. Anyway, the point was his bottom was in top shape.

Ha ha—never mind.

Totally Nibbleable.

And if that was not a word, it should be, she decided with a sharp nod as she tried and failed to not check out his incredible biceps as he hefted up a huge piece of rubble.

Down girl.

She waved off Jara and watched the legate wander off to meet his mate. Afterward, Fanny pointedly ignored the seven foot tall monster in her space. She lived alone for a long time, and this, well, this was weird.

“Witch Fanny? I have some questions—”

“Look,” she said, finally addressing him. “I don’t have time to find the original plans for this place, and I have no idea what we will need to buy to rebuild. So, you can just go home, rest up, and we will start tomorrow. I have classes starting soon, and at least the workrooms aren’t damaged—”

“I assure you, Witch Fanny, I know what to do. Besides, er, I have yet to acquire temporary lodgings.” He looked down, rubbing the back of his neck.

He looked vulnerable, clueless even, and—dammit—now, she was invested. Fanny started to rub her temples, trying with all her might to ward off her incoming migraine.

“Here,” he said, gently pushing her hands away and taking over.

Lips pursed as if about to kiss someone, the big bullish man took over the medicinal massage. With a look of deep concentration on his too good looking face, he moved from her temples to her neck, and lastly, to her shoulders.

“There, I believe that should feel better?” he asked, turning to look at her with eyes so big and brown she almost swooned.

Wait.

What the fuck?

Fanny shook her head.

She was so not falling for some beefy butthead’s womanizing hands, was she?

Hell no, she wasn’t.

“Yeah, okay Nellie, two feet of personal space, got it?”

“Pardon?”

“You and me, will have two feet of personal space surrounding us at all times. You don’t have a place to stay? Well, I live in the cottage just there,” she said and pointed to her tiny abode that sat a few yards east of the old barn she’d repurposed into her shop and workrooms. There were sheds housing the kilns in the back, and an overgrown lot to the side.

“Is this space yours as well?” he asked, nodding at the abandoned lot.

“Technically, it came with the barn, but I have no use for it since I am not in the planting business, I’m in the making sculptures and teaching pottery classes business. Anyway, I have a spare room and, though it pains me to offer it to you since you just destroyed half my livelihood, you are welcome to it.”

Wait.

What?

Dang it.

There went her mouth, running away without her brain again. But before she could backtrack it, his expression changed from uncertain to brilliant in a manner of seconds. He was even better looking when he smiled.

How unfair was that?

“Thank you, Witch Fanny!”

“Just Fanny, pal—and remember you have to earn that room with your work here. I am going to be super busy replacing my inventory as it is, and I have classes to teach. Speaking of which,” she mumbled as a few of her morning lessons arrived.

This particular group was there for her Kilning My Love class, where people signed up to immortalize their loved one in pottery. It was a sort of environmentally friendly, endlessly entertaining, and creativity inspiring art class for adults. Plus, there was booze involved.

Yummy.

“Hello, Fanny!” Demi, her favorite new client, came in for a hug, holding her famous Virgin Mary mix in a glass travel carafe. “I am so happy to see you! Okay, so from our class group chat, I know that Gabby is bringing jalapeno vodka, and Ari is coming late with muffins—whoa—giiirrrllll,” she said, drawing out the word. “Did you bring us a live model today?” The gorgeous female blinked slowly, her face splitting from the force of her huge grin.

Fanny blinked as the woman’s eyebrows disappeared into her hairline before she finally turned around.

“What are you talkin—oh, fuuuuuck my liiiiiife.” Fanny pinched the bridge of her nose. Her migraine was coming back full force and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Why her?

Fanny watched in disbelief as her brand new brawny and boorish employee bent over, lifting half a felled wall with only his hands, while giving the entire Underworld a terrific view of his frank and beans—all beef, of course.

“Get it, giiiirl!” Demi screech-whispered—if that was a thing—her gaze flicking to Asterion one more time, before giving Fanny a huge thumbs up.

The other females lined up beside them, whispering and making goo-goo eyes at Mr. MooMoo.

Grrrrr.

Her Demon side growled, scratching to be let out.

Uh oh.

She never allowed that dark part of her to play with her clients. Demon magic and Witch magic did not necessarily get along. It was a wonder her parents had fallen so hard and remained in love for so long.

She shook her head, trying to rid herself of this unnatural agitation.

Why should she care if they were getting an eyeful of her Bull?

Fuck if she knew—point was, she did care.

“Okay, ladies,” Fanny said, moving to the front of the crowd and spreading her arms wide to draw their attention. “Please excuse our appearance. We are currently renovating after a little accident, as you can see—”

“Appearances are fine by me,” another female whispered.

“You can find your sketches from last class and a new stack of red clay waiting for you in workroom 1. Demi, can you pour the drinks? I will be in with you all in just a sec.”

Fanny waited for them to file into the workroom before turning to face him. She should have prepared herself. Asterion was still turned around, reaching for materials, and damn, she had never wanted to get on her knees for a man so fast before.

Holy cow—literally.

The man was fine. Like super fine. His washboard abs glistened with exertion as he stood back up and lifted the heavy pile of debris easily. With shoulders wider than any defensive linemen, he turned sideways to fit through the hole in the wall leading to the yard. He returned, his pristine pecs pumped, triceps tremendous, and his traps unfuckingbelievable.

She really, really needed to sculpt him.

Asterion did not seem to mind the work, and she studied him for a moment, unnoticed. His face held a youthful air but was still chiseled and defined.

The face of a warrior god—or a Shifter Prince.

Sweat beaded on his perfect brow, framing his striking brown eyes in a glycerin-like glow reflecting light from the Underworld’s sky. Fanny watched, helpless to do otherwise, as he created organized piles of rubbish by size and shape, if she weren’t mistaken.

Organized, strong, and hot AF—the man had so much going on over there, she did not know where to look first. Fanny only knew something was stirring deep inside her, and he was to blame.

Asterion the Minotaur, you gorgeous Cretan Bull—what are you doing here?

He was barefoot and wearing a tablecloth but working hard to right the damage he’d mistakenly done. Guilt assailed her. Sighing, she grabbed the phone from the wall and called Arachne at Metamorphosis.

“Fanny? Is that you! You immortalized my babies!” the spider Queen shrieked happily. “Griff, just finished hanging them. Now, how can I ever repay you?”

“I am so glad you like them, Ari, and uh, it’s funny you should mention that. You see, I don’t know if Griffin told you about my, um, houseguest—”

“You mean, the Minotaur?”

“Oh gods,” she muttered. “If you know already, that means everyone knows—whatever. No worries.”

“Fanny, he’s an okay guy. You are safe. I mean, he is a little boorish, but he’s a Bull. What do you expect?”

“You know him?”

“Know is a strong word. Let’s just say I met Asterion a few times back during the old days. Crete was a real wild place back then,” Ari muttered.

Fanny frowned. She knew her friend did not like to talk about the darker periods of her mortal life. It was more than decent of her to even bring it up just to reassure Fanny.

“So, what’s the ask?” Ari inquired.

“Well, he doesn’t have any money or clothes, and he is supposed to fix my barn, but let’s just say he is distracting my clients,” she whispered, biting her lip to stifle her giggle.

“Hot, huh?”

Fanny closed her eyes and moaned a little, squealing when she replied.

“Ohmygawds! Ari, he has soooo many muscles. Like, a twelve pack, I swear!”

“Maybe I should come by and take a class,” she muttered, giggling at the resounding roar Fanny assumed was coming from her mate. “I’m kidding, sheesh,” the Spider Queen told her man before returning to the phone.

“Everything, okay?” Fanny asked, giggling a little.

“Yep, but I might be in for a spanking later,” Ari confided, though it seemed like she really did not mind the prospect. “Okay, I am sending over everything he might need in a COD package—”

“But what about his measurements?”

“Griff gave me rough guestimates, and these are fine for work clothes. If he needs anything formal, my card will be inside the box. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Thank you, Ari. I’ll cover it with my next billing cycle.”

“Don’t worry about it. Call it a welcome to the Underworld special. See ya!”

Fanny no sooner hung up than a magical package bearing the telltale M of Metamorphosis arrived. She hefted the thing and walked over to Asterion. Hands sweating, pulse racing, heart pounding inside her chest harder than ever, she cleared her throat.

“Witch Fanny, are you all right?” Asterion paused and asked her in that sexy, deep voice of his. Big brown eyes bore into hers, and she positively melted on the inside.

“Just call me Fanny,” she mumbled, trying hard not to get caught up in his stare.

“Fanny,” he whispered, stepping into her personal space and touching a callused hand to her cheek. “You’re hot.”

“You are too,” she replied without thinking.

“Feverish, I meant,” he said, grinning, and she shook her head, stepping back and shoving the package at him.

“What? No. I’m fine. Two feet of space, remember? Here, put these on to work in. It’s safer than you wearing—um—that.” Fanny waved a hand at the tablecloth and looked down.

“Thank you, Fanny. This is very thoughtful of you.”

Her heart stuttered in her chest, and she knew she was wearing a goofy grin at the small gesture, but what could she say?

She was a sucker for boys with good manners.

Don’t get silly, now.

He’s a Shifter.

Not for you, her inner Demon warned, and she knew it was right.

There was no future in this for a half-Demon Witch. She was not part of the Fates plans for destined love, or whatever it was Shifters believed. Straightening her shoulders, she faced him and shrugged nonchalantly.

“No big deal. Excuse me, I have to teach.”

He nodded and she forced herself to step away from him.

Damn.

The second she did, she felt cold all over. Fanny shook her head. She had to teach her class, then she should make plans to start working on rebuilding her inventory.

Yes, Fanny had plenty to do.

The only problem was—how was she supposed to concentrate with him outside?

He’s not for you, the inner Demon reminded her.

Rubbing her thumb over the hollow feeling that suddenly welled up inside her, she gasped. For the first time in her existence, Fanny felt discontent with her lot in life.

She did not like that feeling. Not one little bit.

CHAPTER 4

Asterion straightened the bottom of the cotton tunic, er, t-shirt he wore over denim pants.

Amazing.

The material was so light, and it allowed him to move without exposing himself at every turn. That was a huge bonus for a shy guy like him—especially, since he had heard every word those females had whispered and snorted about him.

Like I’m just a piece of meat.

Asterion frowned. In all his time locked away on Crete, he had to put up with the ridiculous fawning of his so-called sacrifices. Some of them had even argued after he’d released them, cursing him for not using them to sate his supposedly cannibalistic appetites.

“Eat me, Minotaur! Eat me!”

Snort.

Would they believe him if he’d told them the truth about his reputation for being a lady killer?

Sighing heavily, he went back to work. First, he had to clear the rubbish, then he could plan the renovations. All this thinking about women and their incorrect assumptions was making his beast agitated.

Mate, the animal bellowed the word morosely.

He had to meet women before he could choose a mate, and so far, none of the ones he’d run into seemed like good prospects. Fanny had treated him well, but she undoubtedly hated him. The very thought made discomfort spread throughout his chest and head.

The little Witch had escorted her clients to their workspace, keeping them from ogling his body like a pack of hungry wolves. Then, to his complete and utter—not udder —surprise, she’d ordered him new garments.

No one had ever done that for him before. Sure, he had servants—one servant, actually—back in his palace prison, but the man hardly even spoke to Asterion. Being an outcast certainly had its drawbacks, and that was one.

He looked down, pleased at the way the clothing fit him.

Asterion was a very large man—who wouldn’t be with a living beast inside of him, eh?

But, if the little note inside the box of items was true, then he could even shift into his Bull without fear of damaging his new favorite outfit.

Indeed, the Witch had managed to procure magicked items for him to wear. A little while after their arrival, a delivery with tools and supplies needed for the rebuild, as well as an enormous metal dumpster for the refuse, had arrived. All of which made his job easier, and Asterion was touched.

Perhaps she forgave him already?

A small, secret part of him dared hope that was true. After all, he’d traversed to the Underworld for the purpose of securing a mate. Perhaps starting with a friend was not such a bad idea.

He’d been touched by her thoughtfulness, truly. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him, and Asterion was overwhelmed with the notion he should do something to repay her.

But what?

He’d already broken down half her place of work. He had no money to speak of, and he was a veritable stranger in these parts. This would require some thought, and contrary to his reputation, Asterion was a thoughtful person.

He worked for the rest of the day alone and in relative silence, with Fanny checking on him periodically. It was nice.

“Here, I brought you a lemonade,” the Witch said, having approached from behind him.

Asterion startled, turning with a two by four in his hands, almost upending the tray she held. His eyes bugged out of his head, and his mouth opened and closed. He’d started perspiring, and now his body was covered in goosebumps.

Fuck.

Asterion was actually tongue tied around her. He could not tell what she was thinking from her expression. Her delicate, dark eyebrows furrowed, and Fanny exhaled, attempting a smile—sooooo, that had to be good.

Right?

“Whoopsie!” she yelled, stepping back as he waved the blasted two by four again. She giggled, holding the tray high, and he was so upside down he had no idea whether to drop it or not, so he lifted it up and whacked himself in the nose.

“Fuck!”

“Gods! Are you all right? That must have hurt,” she said, sounding concerned.

His stomach tightened and he dropped the wood, missing her by a hair.

Fanny yelped, eyes wide.

“Shit! Are you okay?” he asked, stepping over the felled wood, and looking her over for injury with his rapt gaze.

“Yep. Yeah. Yes,” she murmured, nodding, and clearing her throat.

She was such a fine woman, he noted. Her body was soft and voluptuous in all the right places, and strong in others. He could tell by the width of her shoulders and the power in her hands.

“Your foot? Did the wood land on your foot?”

“Huh? No, no worries. Here, um, you must be starved. I made you a couple of sandwiches,” she said, and looked adorably uncertain.

“Um, I don’t eat meat—” Asterion frowned.

He hated the very idea of being rude or disappointing her, but the quick-witted Witch was quick to lay his fears to rest.

“It’s peanut butter and jelly,” she said, grinning. “I figured it was a safe bet you didn’t eat cold cuts.”

“Thank you,” he replied, accepting the tray, and subtly sniffing the food.

He’d never had peanut butter and jelly, but she was waiting. Asterion did not know what else to do, so he took a bite of the strange food.

“Mmm,” he said, chewing the surprisingly tasty treat.

It was sticky and sweet with the right amount of salt. His eyes widened, and the moan came back even louder as he took another, larger bite.

“Oh, you might want to—”

Fanny made a face at him, gesturing to the tall glass of lemonade, and he soon realized why. Peanut butter, the salty, sweet, delicious food of the gods—for this had to be the ambrosia the ancient Greeks often spoke of—had a decidedly unique downside.

Take too large a bite, and it might be the last. A truth he had realized almost too late, as it became impossible for him to unstick his mouth.

Holy Hera!

It was like his pie hole was glued shut. Stuck with tar, and not the seemingly innocent, deliciously nutty spread. Asterion choked, panic rising. He grabbed for the lemonade and tried to drink, but it was not working.

Of course not!

How could he drink when he could not open his mouth?

His Bull bucked and growled in his mind’s eye, the beast completely against dying.

Oh, the shame!

After all he’d survived, to be done in by a sandwich.

An unthinkable tragedy!

The embarrassment was too much to bear thinking about—which, really, he could not do anyway since he was trying to survive the death sandwich.

Suddenly, Fanny was next to him, patting his back. He was panicking, could not breathe.

What the Hades was this stuff made of?

Peanut butter had to be the devil’s work. A delicious, but tricky, and evil food thing—so good, and yet so deadly!

Fanny talked to him, whispering nonsense as she continued to pat and touch, rubbing circles on his back with her small, warm hands. Gradually, Asterion felt a wave of calm wash over him. She’d managed to untangle his frazzled nerves, loosen his muscles, and quell the panic so he could chew instead of choke. Her touch was nice, soothing to his beast.

Finally, after swallowing down the too big bite, he was able to breathe and take a sip of the drink she’d brought him.

“I am so sorry. I swear, I was not trying to kill you, regardless of what you did to my store,” she apologized again, wincing as he gulped in great breaths of air.

“Not your fault,” he replied, still gasping. “I was not prepared. Should have gone slower.”

“Guess that was your first experience with peanut butter?” she asked, wincing as she spoke.

He nodded. Once he had his breath back, Asterion took the tray from her hands and said his thanks. He could tell she truly was sorry, and in all honesty, the sandwich was very good. He’d just eaten too quickly.

“Thank you, Fanny. It is a very good lunch. I apologize for making a mess of it.”

“Oh! That’s all right. I think messes are just natural for you,” she replied, but without heat.

“I swear, I am not usually so clumsy,” he explained, feeling the need to redeem himself.

“It’s okay, I think I like it. Otherwise, you would be too good to be true,” she confessed.

“Oh? Do you mean because of my body?”

“Wow. Conceited much?” she asked, but her cheeks blushed a pretty pink, and he knew he’d hit the nail on the head.

“Conceit describes a person who is vain and proud of his or her appearance. I am proud, but not because of how I look, Fanny. I did nothing to gain my features, merely inherited them. Genetics should not be cause for conceit,” he explained. “But I did hear your students speak of my nudity earlier. They seemed to think it was model-worthy.”

“You could hear us?”

“Shifter, remember? My hearing is quite acute.”

“Oh, I suppose it would be,” she mumbled, and he could have sworn her cheeks went even redder.

Something warmed in his belly at the look on her face, and it was not the peanut butter. If he wasn’t mistaken, his new boss and landlady thought him attractive. That was good.

Very good.

“Well, um, I have another class coming in soon. I will let you get back to it, then.”

“Yes. Thank you for the peanut butter,” he said, lifting the sandwich for a much smaller bite, which he chewed carefully.

Fanny’s cheeks glowed crimson by the time she walked away to greet her next group of students, and Asterion found himself intrigued. She still wore her pink dress, only this time, she had an apron tied around her waist, covered in clay and paint. She even had some in her hair, which she’d tied back with a ribbon at the nape of her neck.

Pretty, he mused, approving of the pink color among her chestnut tresses.

Asterion was becoming quite fond of the Witch he’d known for only a few hours. Maybe their truce would lead to friendship. Maybe, she could help him with Speed Dating and finding a mate.

Maybe.

He busied himself finishing the framework for the wall he’d taken out with his beast’s tremendous body. It was necessary to stop any further destruction or caving in of the roof. Luckily, the weather would hold. Asterion was not worried about water damage or looters—with a 7,000 pound Bull in residence, anyone attempting to rob the place would have to be pretty fucking stupid.

Fanny had told him he could have her spare room, and though humbled by her charity, he would sleep in his fur tonight. It was safer that way for her shop, and perhaps, his peace of mind.

For centuries, he had wondered about women. The strange, curious ways they had about them. Unfortunately, he’d been imprisoned before he had the chance to know anyone, er, intimately. Oh, there had been a time or two when Asterion had thought he could make a mate or a companion of one of the sacrifices left on his doorstep, but it never panned out.

Truth was, he had given up on female kind. But he had a plan now to find a mate. His beast perked up at the thought, but for some reason, the creature’s mind kept straying to the curvy half-Demon Witch. Fanny Meyers was as intriguing a woman as he had ever seen or heard of.

Fascinating female.

He did not know how she managed it, but with a wiggle and a wave, Fanny had all the materials he’d needed to rebuild, and an enormous metal box called a dumpster for the refuse delivered in a manner of minutes.

Being a Witch seemed pretty damn awesome to him.

He’d watched her all day, the way she spoke to her students and dealt with customers. She had smoothly interceded when a small child had run too close to the damaged part of the store, offering the boy a tiny clay puppy to paint instead of running amok. Asterion had never seen such patience and had certainly never been on the receiving end of it.

“Hey, you can stop for the night,” Fanny said, jostling him from his thoughts.

“What?”

“Store’s closed. Supper’s on. I guess you could use a shower, food, and sleep,” she replied, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Thank you. I am fine—”

“I insist. Come on, it is officially quitting time.”

Asterion shrugged and followed her inside the quaint cottage where she lived. It was larger on the inside, welcoming too, with the warm palette and the small fireplace glowing and giving off a faint yellow light in the center of the parlor. The walls were lined with bookcases, and he smiled as he passed an entire shelf dedicated to Greek myths.

“The shower is down the hall,” she murmured.

“Thank you, Fanny. I will have the work done soon. I promise.”

She stared at him, searching his eyes, and he felt hunted. Asterion wondered what she saw that made her nod after one very long moment. He wanted to ask, but did not know how. Instead, he turned and went to the bathroom.

Once he was showered and dressed in the clothes marked to wear at home from the box of clothing she had given him, Asterion returned to the living area where Fanny was serving up two bowls of bean stew she’d made.

“Smells wonderful,” he remarked.

“Thank you. Oh, um, where did you get those?” Fanny pointed to the comfortable leggings he had on, and Asterion told her.

“I’m going to murder her,” she muttered.

“Is something wrong? They were labeled home attire, I just assumed—”

“Nope. It’s totally fine. Here ya go, dig in. It’s kale and bean stew.”

Asterion was confused as hell, but he shrugged it off. His Bull was pretty hungry, even if he could have worked for many more hours. He watched Fanny remove her apron, pick up the small rectangle she’d called a phone, and storm outside. Something had the strange Witch upset, and Asterion was only too happy it was not him.

Thank the gods.

CHAPTER 5

Gray sweatpants!

She is supposed to be my friend.

Fanny fumed. Of all the possibilities, Arachne had sent him a plethora of gray sweats to wear after work. Fanny could not believe it. Arachne was her friend, or so she thought. That sneaky little Spider had sent three different shades of gray sweatpants in that endless box of clothing she’d procured for Asterion.

Watching the Bull Shifter as he took up too much space in her kitchen, eating with better manners than she would have guessed, and asking her tons of questions while regaling Fanny with surprisingly entertaining stories of his life had been, well, strangely enough, it had been nice.

Asterion was not at all what she had thought him to be. True, he was a bit unfamiliar with many modern things, but that was not unlike a lot of the denizens around those parts. He was honest, and that was quite refreshing. But the gray sweatpants, fucking hell, those were her kryptonite. After that first night, he’d taken to wearing them every night after he showered from his long day of working on the barn.

It had been almost a week. Five days, at least, of Fanny watching every flex and stretch as he stood up after he ate whatever she cooked without complaint and excused himself to sleep outdoors. The man had a perfectly good room—with a bed—but night after night, he changed into his Bull and stayed outdoors. Tonight was Tuesday and Fanny had promised to help him pick out something nice to wear before the big Speed Dating, whatever, that would take place at the Café the next evening.

They’d eaten early, and Asterion was waiting for her outside—in his gray sweatpants.

Her eye twitched, Fanny’s inner-Demon growled softly at the idea of other women ogling him as they walked through town.

Oh no.

She was getting territorial.

This was so not good.

Fanny exhaled a deep breath, knowing this was going to cause her some serious setbacks in her own personal growth. Maybe she should tell him to change.

But how could she do that without giving it away?

Hey, can you change your pants?

Your cock looks too fucking fantastic in those, and it kinda makes me want to zap everyone’s eyes off their fucking head when they look at you?

Yeah, cause that would go over really well.

Fanny was so screwed. She had no claim on him but tell that to her inner Demon. The fiery freak had a crush the size of Texas, and there was her Magic too. She was always feeling tingles and precognizant little vibes whenever he was about to appear in one of the workrooms she was in or the kitchen when she was cooking.

He’d had even surprised her by making lunch one day—peanut butter and jelly—which he ate very carefully and drank a gallon of vanilla soy milk with it. He made her laugh, something Fanny did not easily do these days. She had no one to laugh with, not really. Her parents had gone away to enjoy their retirement, and sure, she had students and clients, but there were few people she could truly call friend. Hers was a solitary life, and it was meant to be that way.

Asterion was not hers.

If she was his, he would know it by now. Shifters had this sixth sense that told them when someone was their fated mate. Though she was not entirely sure how it worked, Fanny knew she did not possess such a thing.

Not mine.

Not mine.

He is not mine.

She told herself that repeatedly throughout the last few days. And again now, as they walked down the main road to town. People were staring at them, getting their fill of the Witch who lived on the very edge of the Underworld, and her behemoth of a housemate.

“I had no idea there were so many shops in the Underworld,” he mentioned.

“Yes, we are a thriving little hotspot.”

“Ah ha, you are being facetious. Well, it is a lovely spot, Fanny Meyers. A nice place to call home.”

“I mean, I think so. I lived topside a while, and it just was not the right fit for me at all.”

“Why not?”

“I suppose it’s hard to hide up there. I mean, I’m a Witch but I am also half Demon, and my powers are kind of difficult to mask.”

“Your powers? Oh, do you mean your tendency to zap innocent people, and bulls, on their rears?” he asked, appearing innocent, but she knew better.

“Ha! Yeah, right. Only when those innocent bulls tear down my shop,” she replied and snorted.

“Did you just snort?!”

Fanny covered her mouth.

OMG!

She was so embarrassed. The guy was an eleven on a scale of one to ten, and she snorted while talking to him.

Holy fuck, Fanny, might as well just start burping and farting while you’re at it!

“You’re cute when you snort,” he continued, and that was when she lost her balance and almost crashed right into him as he paused to look at a small nethertree. The trunk was gnarled and black as soot and leaves were blood red, but it was still beautiful in its own way, she supposed.

“What is that?”

“A nethertree. They only grow in the Underworld,” she explained.

“Interesting. Oh, I saw the planters your class has been working on. They are very nice,” Asterion casually remarked.

She’d learned with him it was best not to rush. Whenever he had a story or question, the Bull Shifter often needed a moment to get there. He furrowed his perfectly arched brows, pursed those plump, pouty lips, and mulled over whatever was going on his unique brain over before speaking. It was a cute quirk, and Fanny loved watching him do it. The fact he was doing it now made her heart beat a little faster, and she had to turn away, lest he see her adoration for him painting her face bright pink.

Oh fucking hell.

Fanny was in so much trouble. She had a crush. A really big one. If she was not careful, Fanny Meyers was going to lose her head, and her heart, over this Bull.

“Um, thank you. I don’t know when you would have had the time to look. You have been so busy with the construction, which looks fabulous, by the way.”

“You think so? I hope you don’t mind, I took it upon myself to even out the rafters where there’d been some repairs on the barn. I also took out some of the rotted wood, so you don’t have to worry about the roof caving in on you or anything like that—”

“Wow. I had no idea. Thank you, Asterion. You should know, I think you are doing a great job.”

“My pleasure, Fanny. That means quite a lot coming from you,” he replied, rubbing his neck with his hands.

“Hey Fanny, I got another one for you!” one of the old-time shopkeepers called out.

“Oh no,” she whispered, mortified at what was about to transpire.

“What is it?” Asterion asked.

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” she replied quietly, waving at the old man. “I am so sorry, Mr. Nettle. I don’t have time to stop today. Maybe some other time, all right?”

“It’s a quick one, Fanny. Come on over!”

“Shit,” she muttered and stopped, holding her hand to her ear. With any luck, the old cook would let her walk away—but of course, Fanny had no such luck.

“Okay, ready? So, last night, I was sitting in my living room, getting ready for a nice relaxing evening by myself, and I accidentally butt-dialed my own ex-wife—ready for it?” he asked, pausing dramatically before shouting the rest of the horrible joke. “It was the first booty call I ever made! You get it, Fanny? BOOTY-CALL! Ha ha ha!”

“Oh, yeah, I get it, Mr. Nettle. Good one,” she replied, smiling weakly before she turned her head. Fanny’s cheeks burned with mortification.

Would it never end?

Ugh.

“What was all that?” Asterion asked, his expression confused, even as he turned and glared at Mr. Nettle. The old man squeaked and rushed inside his shop, closing the door, and locking it for good measure.

Nice Bull.

Good man.

“Butt jokes. Another awful, tasteless, and crass butt joke at my expense. Everyone makes them, you know, because of my name,” she mumbled.

“What about your name?”

“My name is Fanny, get it?” she said, expelling a harsh breath.

“No. I am sorry, what does your name have to do with someone’s backside?”

Fanny’s eyes widened.

Really?

Was he not going to roll around the floor guffawing like some idiot over some insensitive, juvenile joke like the one Mr. Nettle had just told her?

She squinted at him but could not see or feel any lie in his expression or words. Just pure curiosity.

Interesting.

“People think I must like butt jokes because my name is Fanny, and that’s another word some folks use for a butt. It’s old fashioned, and dumb, but there it is,” she explained in a rush of words, trying not to blush.

“Huh. You know, I might be a bit out of touch with modern society, Fanny, but it sounds like those people are morons. Jokes are supposed to make you happy, and you clearly did not enjoy that. Besides, I think your name is as pretty as you are.”

“Yeah, right,” she said, trying not to snort again. But come on. He was a god—literally. He did not have to feed her any lines. It was pointless.

Asterion frowned and paused, resting his hand on her elbow.

“Fanny, I mean it. You are so very pretty. Those incredible color-changing eyes are pure Magic, and your smile is just lovely,” Asterion murmured, staring at her for so long, she felt herself warm under his intent gaze.

Wow.

No one had ever made her feel quite like that before.

Fanny felt her steps growing heavier and heavier the closer they got to town.

She noticed the stares they were getting from people, but who was she kidding?

It was him they were looking at as they walked to Metamorphosis. Asterion was a big, beautiful giant of a man, and Fanny was just herself.

He looked like one of those hot construction workers from some silly romance flick in his sweats and tight t-shirt, with his work boots carelessly untied as he strode beside her. His gait was steady, unhurried, and full of confidence.

Perfectly yummy.

Of course, she was not the only one who noticed. A beautiful redhead was coming out of the coffee shop, and she swiveled on her heel, giving him a steady once over. The female was tall, thin, and stacked, gorgeous in a mini-dress and heels. Fanny looked down at her simple cotton peasant dress and her flats, and gnawed on her lip.

Nope. There was literally no contest. That woman was a ten, and Fanny was a six at most. She was cute. Perfect friend material with the occasional drunk booty call thrown in. At least, that was what her last boyfriend had said.

“Hi,” the stranger said, giving him one of those come hither looks.

He nodded his head and gave her a two finger wave, catching Fanny as she attempted to mimic that sexy smolder.

“Are you okay? Is something in your eye?”

“What? Oh, uh, here we are,” she changed the subject and pointed to the door of her bestie’s boutique. “Ari has the sign up forms for the Speed Dating thing inside, you can fill them out after you are fitted for your outfit.”

“Great. But, um, is this store for women only?” he asked, and she could tell he was a little nervous.

Fanny shook her head, guiding him inside, and enjoying his slight panic as the two females inside shrieked with their arrival.

Silly Bull.

“Fanny!” Arachne rounded the counter and hugged her tightly, while giving Asterion a long look.

“Wowza! You are one big dude!” the Spider Shifter exclaimed.

Shaking her head, Ari sent her silver locks flowing toward her back while she started measuring Asterion. The woman was so effortlessly beautiful, Fanny could never believe she had been single for so long.

It had finally taken a stubborn as fuck Demon to claim Fanny’s friend, and she had never seen the woman happier. Gabriella, the other woman in the shop, was a Werewolf mated to the Demon of Lust himself. She’d left her life on Earth to live in the Underworld with her mate, and it was always a pleasure to see her.

“OMG! Ari so did that to you on purpose,” she whispered, and pointed at the pants knowingly.

“No shit.”

“Well? Anything, you know, happen between you two,” she continued to whisper while Arachne proceeded to question Asterion about what he needed and wanted.

“About payment—”

“I don’t talk money while I am creating,” she snapped, and sent a hundred tiny spiders crawling up his back.

“That tickles,” he growled, trying to remain still as the little spiders wove their magic cloth quickly.

“I am going to disrobe you now, but don’t worry, you will remain covered. Mostly,” she grinned and snapped her fingers.

“How did you do that?” Asterion question, not even bothering to cover himself up.

“All my products have a fail switch, and this makes it easier for me to get the job done here quickly. Now, I need to see your beast.”

“You need to see my Bull? In here?”

“Don’t worry, this area is magicked so you can’t do any damage. Please, I need to take your weight and measurements before I can create a fabric that can withstand your power and size.”

“Makes sense,” he said, and unlike other Shifters whose change was slow and painful, Asterion seemed to simply blink out of existence as a man, and then back in as his Bull.

“Magnificent,” Arachne commented, then set her spiders to their work.

“He is huge!” Gabby exclaimed.

“Yes.” Fanny beamed, proud of him and his beautiful beast.

He was a good Bull too, standing straight and allowing Arachne to get his weight and measurements.

Fanny walked across the floor, unable to stop herself. She could see it now, a beautiful miniature of his beast, painted and glazed, though she wondered if there existed anywhere in the world a white paint as pure as his hide. Without thinking, she reached out a hand.

“Fanny, I would not do that. Bulls are dangerous,” Arachne warned, but she was too late.

She was already touching the smooth, soft fur that covered his head. Miracle of miracles, he was letting her. The Minotaur snorted and pushed his head more firmly into her hand, causing Fanny to laugh. The air began to hum, growing heavy with magic, and soon, fur turned to smooth, bronzed skin.

“Oh,” she whispered, but he just stared, his eyes still held the red flames of his Bull.

“Um, here,” Ari said, breaking up the moment.

She tossed a burgundy shroud over his nudity, but Fanny was not looking anywhere but at his eyes. Feeling her cheeks grow hot, she stepped back, breaking eye contact as Ari finished her work.

“Ready?” Asterion asked some minutes later, after he’d finished the sign up form. He was dressed again in his gray sweats and t-shirt, looking far more sexy than any man deserved.

Fanny nodded, still unable to meet his gaze. Something had happened between them in those moments when he’d been in his fur, and she’d touched him. Her hands still tingled from the contact and when she looked down, she saw sparks of Magic swirling and dancing along her skin.

“Mind if we stop here?” he asked, and motioned to ButterNut Bakery.

“Sure. I could use something sweet,” Fanny replied and followed him inside.

While she was picking out a few sweet rolls to take home, Fanny noticed Asterion had walked over to where Hera was working on something behind the counter. She ran her own Apothecary where she created potions to cure all kinds of ailments and ease the burden of childbirth. Fanny was a huge fan, and she was mildly curious about their conversation.

The goddess barked out a short laugh before handing Asterion a small envelope, which he promptly tucked into his pocket. He bowed his head and returned to Fanny, who was ready to go, anyway. Curiosity begged her to ask, but she refused.

Not my business.

“Hope you like sweet rolls,” she murmured.

“They smell excellent,” he replied, and his brown eyes were dancing with delight.

Whatever secrets the Bull Shifter had, they were his to keep. It was none of her business. And that was what she told herself, on repeat, as they walked back home. Eeek. No, not home—it was her home. He was just visiting. Soon, the barn would be finished and Asterion would be moseying out of her life and into his own.

“Why did you come to Purgatory?” she asked once they were seated around her dining table.

Tonight’s dinner consisted of a hearty kale and bean soup with roasted, honey-glazed pumpkin and parsnips. These were her favorite recipes, and she was eager for him to try them.

Silly girl.

“Oh, well, my servant, or prison guard—depending on how you look at it—um, he died, rather suddenly. Alfred’s body just sort of disappeared after, and the key to the labyrinth was all that remained. I did not even know he had such a thing. He was the one who brought in the sacrifices, of course, but I never put it together. Stupid, really. Anyway, I was finally free after so many centuries, though to be honest, time works differently for beings like us, doesn’t it?”

“I suppose it does. Wow, you know, I can’t even imagine what that must have been like for you,” she replied, her heart breaking for him a little. Sweet, trusting man. “But why come here, of all places?”

“Oh,” he said, cocking his head to the side and mulling over his answer. She liked watching him think, knowing he was taking his time to deliver something truthful, meaningful. “This is kind of a secret, but if I was going to tell anyone, it would be you, Fanny Meyers,” he whispered, his voice filling with that deep, gravelly tone she was starting to become addicted to. “I’d heard about the Speed Dating here in the Underworld, and I was intrigued. You see, one thing about being a monster who commands sacrifices has taught me was that, well, women are quite frightening.”

“Ha! How do you mean?” she replied with a chuckle.

“Well, I would wish for you to see me as a man of the world, but alas, I have lived a very sheltered life. I am no man, or woman-eater, despite the rumors. I have never enjoyed the company of another, and my beast, well, he desires to find a mate—”

Fanny’s heart was pounding inside her chest. The rhythmic tattoo thudding so hard, she thought she might break a rib or two.

Could he really be saying what she thought he was saying?

Gulp.

Holy cow.

“Wait, are you a—”

“Virgin? Yes, I am,” Asterion stated boldly. “But I was hoping you could help me with that.”

It was like time had stopped inside her small kitchen. Fanny lifted her gaze to his, making sure she was hearing him correctly.

Was he really asking her to be his first?

“What? No!” she screeched, standing up so quickly, she almost upended her own table.

“Please, Fanny,” he begged. “I know you have no reason to want to help me, but I am here to find a mate, and well, I mess so many things up with my clumsy ways. I can’t go to Speed Dating tomorrow with no idea on how to please a mate. Fanny, I am begging you. I don’t want to mess this up. Will you help me?”

Oh shit oh shit oh shit.

Big sexy Bull wants me to teach him how to fuck.

Yesssss, her inner Demon slut was so all over that.

Her cautious Witch side, not so much.

Can you separate sex and love, Fanny Meyers?

Is it possible?

“If your answer is no, then I will abide by your wishes, Fanny. But won’t you consider it? At least, wait ‘till after dinner to decide,” Asterion cajoled.

He was right. She should not rush a decision. Besides, this was her favorite meal. She sat back down, trying not to fidget while he sliced a sweet roll in half and handed one side to her.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“My pleasure,” he replied, and the smile on his face made her think he was wrong—the pleasure would be hers, if she would just take it.

Decisions have consequences, Fanny.

Consequences like maybe he will find someone else to help him with his problem.

The idea rankled, and her snarly side was not at all okay with Asterion losing his virginity to another woman. She might not be destined for a mate, but she could have one night with him before he set off on his Speed Dating adventure and got paired up like everyone else in the whole damn Underworld.

One night.

That’s all it will be.

Yes, she might be fated to be alone forever, but she could have one night.

“All right,” she told him, and the poor guy dropped his spoon so hard he spilled his food everywhere.

“You will help me?”

“Yes, but it will be one night only. You know that, right? Tomorrow you might find your fated mate, and I don’t want any weirdness while you finish the barn.”

“Thank you, Fanny! Yes, no weirdness at all. I promise!”

It was exactly what she wanted to hear.

But why did it leave her with a hollow feeling inside her chest?

CHAPTER 6

His hands were sweating. Asterion sucked in a deep gulp of fresh air, then exhaled slowly to try and calm his beast.

She said yes.

I can’t believe she said yes.

He’d been reading some of Fanny’s books during his infrequent breaks, and the woman had some seriously passionate taste in literature. Stories of Werewolves, Bear Shifters, Dragons, and more lined her shelves, each one a fated mates romance that called to his heart.

He wondered why she was not already mated, being such a romantic as she clearly was. His Bull growled, and he rubbed that spot between his pecs. The animal inside him kicked up a fuss at that thought. As if the Bull did not like the idea of a mated Fanny.

Being close to her the past few days, they’d settled into a nice routine. He worked on repairing the damage he’d done to the store, and she taught her classes. Pottery crafting seemed to be a tremendous hit amongst the citizens here, he mused.

Who knew so many denizens of Purgatory would need a creative outlet?

And the art she created on commission simply dazzled him. Her statues were detailed and refined, and he knew she put a little bit of herself into each one. That was her real Magic. Fanny’s art made a person feel.

Asterion certainly felt something whenever he was around her.

Mostly foolish—snort.

How could a magnificent creature such as him be such an oaf around her?

It never failed, though. Asterion was clumsy, always dropping things—or breaking them—whenever she was afoot.

She’d even started calling him Destructo, which he supposed was a step up from Nellie or Mr. MooMoo Cow. He’d earned the nickname, but dammit, he wanted her to see him as something better than that. So, he worked hard and tried to make her proud. This last thing he had asked, well, it was one hell of an admission for a man to make.

Asterion was a virgin. But instead of shame, all he felt was joy.

How could he feel anything but that when the woman had whispered that small, one-syllable word with absolutely no hint of reservation?

Yes.

She said yes.

He heard her inside, moving about her bedroom. Asterion had insisted on cleaning the kitchen and washing the dishes. She’d cooked, and he believed in a fair division of labor. His Bull grunted, the beast happy to be taking care of her even in this small way.

“Asterion? You can come inside now,” she called loudly from inside her room.

But he did not need her to shout. He heard everything she said, every sound she made just fine.

What the hell was he doing?

True, Asterion was not experienced. He had never consummated any of the very brief relationships—if they could be called that—he’d had during his incarceration, and before that, he’d been too busy trying to control the Bull.

Fact was, Asterion had a massive monster inside of him.

Fuck, would he hurt her?

Never, the Bull snorted. He would cut off his own horns before he harmed a single curly hair on her sweet head. He’d been watching Fanny Meyers covertly from inside his human shell. The Bull liked the half-Demon Witch, was drawn to her wild Magic like a moth to a flame. Yes, he wanted her to initiate him into the art of lovemaking. Only her.

Try not to fuck this up.

Nerves wracked his body, sending shivers racing up and down his spine, and his stomach clenched hard. He really did not want to fuck this up. Cursing his own idiocy, he forced his feet to move.

One step, then another, until he trekked all the way to her bedroom.

He smelled her fresh, sweet grass fragrance, only it was different somehow. Mixed with something warm and spicy, something earthy, and so damn delicious, Asterion’s mouth watered.

He pushed open the door, and there she stood, waiting for him with a small, knowing smile on her face. He moved too soon, clonking himself right in the forehead with the door as it swung back with the force of his shove.

“I’m fine,” he grunted, shaking off the hurt and meeting her surprised stare.

He was an oaf, but fuck, she was beautiful.

Fanny Meyers had a face like an angel. Heart-shaped with a straight, small nose, and big, beguiling eyes that had settled on a deep emerald shade, those eyes glittered at him from where she stood, and his heart pounded inside his chest so loudly, he could not hear a single thing above it.

Thud, thud, thud.

She smiled softly, biting her lip, stare trained on him.

Damn, he loved her Witchy eyes.

So pretty.

So magical.

They seemed to change like the colors of the Underworld’s sky, either with her Magic or mood, he never knew. But it sure was fascinating to see. Someday, some lucky bastard was going to get to stare at those eyes for eternity, wondering her moods, and striving to make her happy.

It should be me.

Asterion ignored his beast and focused on her instead.

Fanny always dressed simple and sweet, her clothes designed for comfort and practicality, and yet, there was something so innately alluring, so breathtakingly feminine, she commanded all of his attention. Freshly showered, Fanny stood wearing a simple dressing gown, a small, teasing grin, and nothing else.

Thud, thud, thud.

He noted the steam from the open bathroom door, wondered what it would be like to bathe with her, and damn if his cock didn’t grow harder inside his sweats. The silky fabric of her gown clung to her curves, making his fingers itch to touch her.

Beautiful, tempting Witch.

“Fanny, you look so… that is, I—”

“Shhh,” she whispered, closing the space between them. “Tonight, I want you to trust yourself. Trust your instincts. Trust me.”

“Yessss,” he hissed.

“When we touch, it will be because we want to. I want to touch you, and I want you to touch me back. Okay?”

Her head tilted back so she could look at him, and Asterion’s throat went dry.

Fuck yes.

Asterion had never wanted anything in his whole life as much as he wanted her touch and the permission to touch her in return. He nodded, realizing she was waiting and needed an answer to her question.

“Good,” she murmured, her ghost of a smile disappearing as she inched closer.

The air seemed heavy, weighted down by what they were about to do. He was like a deer, er, bull, in headlights, watching his whole future rushing toward him as unstoppable as the ocean and with more force than a hurricane.

Why did this feel so important?

Like everything he knew was about to change.

Because it is, the Bull replied.

Then, she touched him, and all rational thought jumped right out the window of his brain. Asterion moaned as Fanny lifted on tiptoe to press her lips to his. He’d been kissed before, but it had never felt like this.

Lips parted, tongues tangled, and Asterion felt drunk on her. Fanny smiled against his lips and wrapped her arms around him. He took that as a signal and tugged her closer by her waist. His big hands holding her soft curves against him as Asterion sipped from her mouth.

She used her tongue again, slowly lapping at his mouth, and fuck, his cock throbbed in response. He felt aflame. Like his whole body had been doused in gasoline and she was the match lighting him on fire.

Gently, Fanny pressed her palms flat against his chest, walking him backward until he sat on the bed. Her lips never left his as she tugged on the hem of his shirt, only parting when she lifted it over his head.

“Fanny,” he growled, closing his hand behind her neck, and pulling her back to his lips for another long kiss.

He kicked his boots off as she straddled his waist. She felt so good, so warm, so right pressed against the hard length of him. Her sweet moisture soaked the material covering his cock, and fuck, he wanted to be inside of her.

She moaned and rocked her hips, sending another wave of pure pleasure crashing over his body.

“Fanny,” he repeated, tugging her robe from her shoulders and tossing the material aside.

His eyes widened as he took her in, goddess that she was. Her full breasts were begging for attention, and he closed his mouth over one hardened tip, sucking the ripe berry into his mouth.

So good.

So sweet.

Asterion flipped them so he could have better access to her supple skin. She was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted.

“Is this okay?” he asked, voice thick with his Bull.

She nodded, her lust-glazed stare never leaving his face as he licked his way from nipple to nipple, pressing her beautiful mounds together to have better access. He’d never done this before, made love to a woman, but Asterion moved with her pleasure as his guide. Every whimper and moan told him he was on the right track. Never before had another been so important to him, but she was everything. This was everything.

Asterion slid them up the bed until her head was cushioned on a pillow. He ran his fingers along her silky skin, studying every curve so he could be sure to remember it. No matter where life took him, he wanted this knowledge ingrained inside of him for eternity.

NO.

He could not bear to think of being away from her, he realized, when his Bull damn near broke through his skin at the thought.

As if she sensed his beast, Fanny started to run her hands along his shoulders and back, crooning softly in his ears, encouraging him. He slid his fingers between her legs, parting the soft wetness he found there.

Fuck, she was so tight and hot.

Her sheath tightened, gripping his fingers, and he could almost imagine how she would feel around his cock.

“Oh gods,” she moaned as his thumb circled her folds.

He ran his tongue down her neck, to her breast, and placed biting little kisses there, all the while he fingered her in long strokes. That spicy note he’d noticed in her scent increased, and Asterion identified it as desire. She wanted him, and nothing else had ever felt so fucking good in his life.

Fanny’s pants and moans grew louder as Asterion started rubbing against one hard little nubbin with his thumb while using his middle and pointer fingers to fill her. Fuck, she really liked that, and he wanted more.

More of her noises, more of her reactions to his ministrations.

Asterion was fucking salivating over her, and his cock had not even gotten near the woman yet.

“Fanny, I want to kiss you here. Is that allowed? Can I kiss you, sweet Witch?” he asked, overcome with the desire to taste her sweet nectar.

“Yes, fuck, yes. I want you to eat me,” she moaned, pushing his shoulders down until he was right there between her splayed legs.

“Eat you?” he asked, as realization dawned.

So, that was what those sacrifices meant…

With a growl, he dove in.

Asterion was starving for her. He lapped at her slit, devouring every drop of her sweet sex, and loving the flavor of her with every swipe and suck.

Fanny bucked against his mouth, and he growled, hands on her ripe buttocks, he lifted her closer to his face, and Asterion feasted.

“Fuck, oh fuck, I’m coming!” Fanny gasped, pulling on his hair, but he was not finished.

He coaxed another, stronger orgasm from her pussy with his mouth and fingers, then, only then, did he move up her body, cock in hand, ready to penetrate her.

His gaze bore into hers, and he saw his reflection shining back at him in her then blue velvet eyes. His were glowing with the red flames of his Bull, but that did not deter him.

Careful of his size and girth, Asterion pushed the head of his cock into her oh so slowly, dragging a moan from the two of them. Mouth parted, Fanny gripped his shoulders, widening her legs to accommodate his body, and he stilled for her a minute. Then he dipped his head, needing her mouth on his as he started to move.

Fuck, she felt like heaven.

So hot, so tight, so fucking perfect.

Her soft curves molded to him, cradling his hardness, welcoming him with every flex and withdrawal. Asterion had never felt anything half as good as this. His entire body shuddered as unspeakable pleasure built, and built, and built until he could no longer stand it.

His Bull snarled, stomping the ground in the metaphysical plane where the beast waited. He was overcome with the need to bite her, to mark her flesh with his own mark, but Asterion held on to sanity—barely.

“Come for me again, sweet, let me feel you,” he growled, swirling his hips until he found the spot that made her wild.

Then, they were both panting, writhing together, until finally, they came. Asterion bellowed as his cock exploded inside of her, filling her with warm jets of his cum. The beast snorted deep within him, soothed at the fact she would carry his scent, at least for a while.

Stupid territorial animal.

He could not claim Fanny. She was not his—but no, that did not feel right, either. This was special, what they had shared.

As he fell back down to earth, he noticed her stroking her hands along his shoulders, kissing his cheeks, his neck, his chin, soothing him as only she could. His gaze landed on hers, and he kissed her slowly, thoroughly, feeling his cock stiffen inside her once more.

Would he ever get tired of loving on her?

The answer was simple.

No.

Not ever.

But she was not his to keep. He just had to keep telling his Bull that as he began to make love to her all over again.

Mine.

CHAPTER 7

That shouldn’t have happened.

That.

Should.

Not.

Have.

Happened.

Fanny was still reeling from initiating Asterion into the world of carnal delights—but fuck if she could stop it. He’d come to her asking for a favor, wanting to learn how to make love so he could satisfy his future mate. And like a total idiot with zero sense of self-preservation, she’d offered herself up like one of those damned sacrifices he used to get!

What was I thinking?

Letting him have my body without considering the effects on my heart.

A Virgin?

Who could tell?

Hot damn, that boy had played her body like a maestro. He needed zero lessons from anyone. She was still trying to catch her breath, body tingling in all the right places.

Asterion was a more than generous lover.

Hot, sexy, eager, demanding, attentive, and insatiable. Everything she could have ever wanted in a partner and more. That Bull must run on Energizer batteries, she mused. He just kept going and going, and she kept coming and coming.

Holy Hades!

He rocked her world—literally.

Even better, he was doing it again.

“So wet, so tight. Fuck, Fanny, you’re squeezing my cock so damn hard,” he growled, swirling his hips against hers in earnest.

She couldn’t answer him, not when his pubis was grinding against her clit just right.

Oh fuck, she was seeing stars.

That warm, familiar feeling began in the pit of her stomach, and lower, much lower. Her pussy was being stretched and filled, and she was overcome with sensation. Every single nerve ending was buzzing and humming with pure orgasmic pleasure from his touch.

Asterion was a work of art—she should know. His body was designed by the gods themselves. Every curve of muscle, the intense definition of his pecs and abs, the bronze expanse of his skin, each rise and fall of his flesh, every inch of his incredible dick—all of it was perfect.

“You feel so good, Fanny,” he growled, moving his enormous shaft in and out of her faster now, deeper too.

She felt him everywhere, filling her.

So good.

So full.

Damn, had she ever been this full before?

Asterion was drowning her in sensation, but it was so worth it. This was what they meant by little death, the phrase finally understood as she died with every stroke. Fanny felt so good, so cared for, and she had no right to. He was taking great care of her body, but he never promised to watch out for her soul. If her heart got bruised, that was her own fault. Fanny was a big girl, and sex was sex. This just happened to be the best sex of her life.

“Harder. Fuck me harder,” Fanny commanded.

She was snarling with her inner Demon, nipping his neck with her blunt teeth. She did not want sweet and sentimental. Fanny wanted hard and fast.

No emotion.

Don’t get emotional, she scolded herself.

She bit him harder, careful not to break the skin, and that was all it took for the sweet Bull to turn savage. Fanny had never been fucked quite so well.

He rolled them both onto their sides, his endurance fucking astounding. To her delight, he’d found the right angle and managed to hit it every time he moved. She was completely exhausted and sated from the amount of times he’d made her come. Ignoring the ache in her chest that threatened to wreck her every time she thought about tomorrow, Fanny burrowed closer to him.

Live for the moment.

It was a good saying, and that’s what she was doing. Should Asterion find his fated mate tomorrow, she would be happy for him. For them. They would have each other, and she would be alone. Again.

Always alone.

A tear threatened to roll down her cheek, but she stopped that shit immediately. She would not ruin this boinkfest with a pity-party.

No.

Fuck that.

So, what if the truth was that Fanny would not be happy for either of them?

Did that make her shitty?

Maybe.

But it was honest.

Fanny might be a lot of things, but she was no hypocrite. If he found his mate tomorrow, it would be all she could do not to hex the slutty little beyotch.

Shit.

That wasn’t fair.

She knew it wasn’t, but she could not help herself. A small spark of something dangerous had started inside of her, and Fanny did not know how to make it stop.

It was hope.

For a half-Demon Witch like her, that was perhaps the scariest thing of all.

“What are you thinking about, sweet Fanny?” he murmured.

She looked up at him, relishing that sexy half-crooked smile on his almost too handsome face. He looked happy and satisfied, and the wicked gleam shining in his dark eyes did things to her on the inside that she never knew were possible. Her inner Demon growled, more like purred, as she scooted closer at his fingers insistence.

Fuck, she loved his hands.

So big and strong.

Fanny had never felt anything like this before. Every time he touched her, she went mindless with need. She felt safe and treasured, protected, and wanted. It was confusing and wonderful, and she did not want it to stop. Greedy little Witch that she was, she wanted more. She wanted all of him, but he was not hers.

Not really.

Just for tonight.

“I’m hungry,” he grumbled against her lips.

“Mmm,” she replied. “Want me to grab us some snacks from the kitchen?”

“No,” he replied, grinning wickedly. “I mean, I am hungry, sweet Fanny.”

Asterion slid down her body and she sighed as his mouth closed over her sex. Fuck, it felt so good. He felt so good, lapping at her like she was something delicious. Feminine power filled her as he placed long, lingering kisses on her sex. She loved the way he felt between her thighs, and gave herself to the moment, allowing every swipe and nibble to drive her closer to the edge.

When she fell off this time, she knew she was giving him more than her body. Silly sentimental fool, she told herself, but it could not be helped. Fanny had fallen for the Bull, knowing that tomorrow she would lose him forever.

But we still have tonight.

It has to be enough.

* * *

The next day dawned with orange and red streaks across the sky. Asterion was already awake, but he was not working on the barn. She found him in his shifted form, dragging a heavy plow through the hard, packed earth of the lot next to the store. She frowned, balancing a tray she’d loaded with half a dozen pieces of avocado toast and a bowl of crunchy spinach salad.

“Good morning,” he said, switching back to his human form so fast she almost dropped the food.

Now who was clumsy?

Grinning, he righted the tray and chugged the glass of water. Wiping his mouth with his arm, before smiling at her expectantly.

“Um, what are you doing?”

“It is a surprise for you,” he said, his eyes laughing.

But Fanny frowned hard. She did not want his surprises.

Didn’t he know how much this would hurt her?

Having a reminder of him when he was leaving soon to be with his mate.

“I told you I have no use for this lot, and there won’t be anyone to tend to it after you’re done doing whatever you are doing. Just stop,” she said angrily.

“But Fanny, I was thinking and last night—”

“Last night was a once off, Asterion. It didn’t mean anything—”

“That’s not true—”

“Just stop it. You asked for help, and I helped you. You are fully capable of making your mate happy in the bedroom. But this lot is mine and I want it left alone. Excuse me, I have classes,” she muttered and walked away.

She knew he was hurt by the pained expression on his face at her words, and she felt awful.

But what choice did she have?

The words had rushed out before she could stop herself. Call it a form of self-preservation, but fuck, she did not know if she was going to survive having him finish the barn, much less whatever project he started in her lot.

Fanny did her best to ignore him throughout the day. It was not that hard, between her classes and keeping the kilns working. She snuck away to her private workroom and looked at the statue she had started. The two foot tall study of Asterion’s Bull looked back at her with blank eyes.

She’d pulled it from the ovens this morning and was about ready to paint. This would be all she had of him after he left to be with his mate. She had gotten everything right, knew every inch of his beast from the top of his horns to the bottom of his cloven feet.

He was monstrous and beautiful, the perfect blend of power and refinement. He had the blood of the gods flowing through his veins, and he was every inch the Greek Prince from his cocksure grin to his perfect body. Yes, he could be clumsy and boorish, but it only added to his charm. The man was lethal to hearts everywhere.

And fucking hell, she was going to burn every pair of gray sweatpants Arachne had sent him before he left, she thought with a wobbly grin. Fuck, she was crying, and she hadn’t even realized it.

A knock sounded on her door. It was hesitant, and she gasped, closing her hand over her mouth to stop her ridiculous crying. It was him, she could simply tell, like she was now attuned to him or something. Her inner Demon growled, but she ignored it.

“Yes?”

“A package came from Metamorphosis. Shall I leave it outside the door?”

“From Metamorphosis? That’s yours from Arachne—”

“There are two. One has my name, the other has yours.”

Confused, she wiped her face and opened the door, closing it quickly so he could not see what she’d been working on. Fanny looked at the card on the package.

Wear this tonight.

-Ari

“This also arrived,” Asterion said, frowning as he held out what looked like an invitation.

“Dear Fanny, So glad you finally signed up! See you tonight and don’t be late, Aphrodite,” she read.

“Did you sign up for Speed Dating too?” he asked, head cocked to the side.

“Me? No. I mean no, I am a Witch—”

“And Demon,” he added.

“Yeah, but even so, I don’t have a fated mate.”

“Oh. I did not think about that. Are you sure?”

“Of course, I am sure,” she muttered.

“Well, perhaps this is a mistake then,” he said, pointing to the envelope. “But since you depend on word of mouth for recommendations to your shop, it might be best to go. So as not to offend Aphrodite or Eve.” Asterion shrugged casually, and she had to hand it to him, he made a good point.

“You might be right about that,” she muttered and took the box.

She’d never been one to get butterflies in her stomach, but right then, she had about a zillion of them flapping around. Her fingers brushed his when she took the box from his hand, and zap, a magical current flowed from his body right through hers. Their eyes met, but she could not hold his gaze. Not when she felt so confused.

Not yours.

He’s not yours.

But if he wasn’t hers, why was her heart breaking at the prospect of him finding his mate tonight?

She shook her head, walking past him and adopting an air of nonchalance.

“I guess we should get dressed,” she said, and left him to follow when he was ready.

There was no point in fighting this.

Fanny had an outfit and an invite, and who knew?

Speed dating might be fun, after all.

CHAPTER 8

The Underworld Café had red velvet curtains hanging on the walls, while the rest of the place seemed decorated in the usual dark colors that went with the whole Underworld theme, he supposed. The place was hopping, or so the bartender had said when he entered. Apparently, it was always like this during Speed Dating nights.

Wall to wall people milled about. Well, not humans—though there were one or two—mostly, they were all supernatural creatures. Many there were beings Asterion had never seen in real life. He had not had many visitors when he was stuck in the Labyrinth.

Anyway, there were more supernaturals in one place than he had ever seen.

How did they expect to control them all?

Surely, it was not a good idea to have gods, goddesses, Shifters, Vampires, Demons, and more, all in one tiny little bar—even if it was owned by Lucifer himself.

Asterion shrugged and picked up his complimentary shot. The bartender had thrust it at him when he walked inside, apparently everyone was having one this evening. The sweet pink liquid burned his throat as it slid down the wrong way, and he damn near choked. A few onlookers stopped and offered aid, but he waved them away.

Ignoring the mob, he found a seat at a table against the wall, that way he did not feel so encumbered by people. This felt wrong. He did not want to be there. He only wanted Fanny. He wished he was back in her cottage, eating her delicious food, wrapped in her body, basking in one of her thousand-watt smiles.

There were too many people there.

Too many smells.

Too much noise.

He was not interested in any of the sleek females who tried to catch his eyes. Asterion did not want any of them. His horns itched to protrude through his skin, and his Bull stomped the ground impatiently.

Where was she?

The event was about to start, and the little half-Demon Witch was nowhere to be found. He loved that she was a hybrid creature, born of love, with two parts of her supernatural nature making her who she was. Silly female thought she was mild and mute, but he saw her inner fire, even if she tried to deny it. One day, she would own that part of her, and it was going to be fantastic. He only hoped he would be there to see it.

Too many people, the Bull snarled.

Despite his wardrobe, Asterion felt hot, and the beast inside him was losing patience. Suddenly, the crowds, the noise, everything faded as she walked in.

Thud, thud, thud.

“Hi, handsome. What’s your name?” a stranger asked, but he ignored her.

She walked away with a nasty snarl, but he could not care any less about the nameless blonde. He only had eyes for one woman.

Fanny.

Asterion had never been rendered speechless before, but he was now. Her name whispered through him like a cool breeze over his too warm skin. He’d been curious why she had asked him to go ahead without her, even refused her request at first, but she had insisted.

And really, how could he deny her anything?

Easy.

He could not.

His heartstrings pulled at the sight of her in a long red dress that clung to her curves. The beast inside him went mad with lust, and if he was not mistaken, the creature was feeling a little proprietary.

She strolled forward, beautiful, elegant, and handed her card to Eve, the same female who had taken his.

Asterion waited for her to acknowledge him, which she did with a slight nod of her head. She was giving him space, he realized. Space to find his mate, but the beast in him stomped and growled. He did not want space from her.

He only wanted her.

A stranger in a black suit approached her, a drink in his hand.

The fucker offered it to Fanny, but the brilliant little half-Demon Witch shook her head and walked away, leaving the asshole baffled. His Bull sneered, wanting to trample the male into dust.

He could use the fertilizer—even though she had told him not to finish with his surprise.

The land where he’d used the plow to turn the soil adjoined hers, but Asterion had done some digging, and technically, it was not part of her lease. After their terse reunion this morning, Fanny had gone to work, and Asterion had formed a plan. He’d used the phone in the cottage and called Artemis, who ran the only Underworld Bank.

After a brief discussion, Artemis sent some paperwork via magical courier, and Asterion had signed the necessary documents, setting his plans into motion. In a few short hours, he had managed to get his accounts moved over from Greece to the Underworld.

His first order of business—acquiring that land—was now finished. Fanny could fight him about it later—if she was still talking to him. He hoped like fuck she was, because life without her was no longer something he could envision.

A bell sounded, and a beautiful female—the Goddess of Love, Aphrodite, herself—commanded the attention of everyone in the establishment. If crickets lived in the Purgatory, no doubt, they would be silent as well. Her power rang through the room, and all eyes were on her. He could feel the adoration flowing to the Goddess, which she undoubtedly took as her due, but his Bull only had eyes for one female in the room.

“Welcome to our weekly Speed Dating event! Now, due to some unnecessary bloodletting last week, I am going to enforce my zero-tolerance policy on violence for tonight. Any unnecessary biting, scratching, punching, or goring will end with the violator being banned from ALL future events. Do not make me get angry, people. I am a lover, not a fighter,” she joked, but Asterion saw the truth in her eyes.

“Ready?” Aphrodite asked, and he could feel the nervous tension in the air as all the supernaturals in the room got amped up to start. “BEGIN!”

This was it. The moment he had been waiting for ever since he stepped outside of his Labyrinth, and yet, Asterion could not give a flying fuck. His first encounter was over before the bell sounded. The tiny, carnivorous Flaying Demon was not for him. Nor was the Green-tailed Sprite, the Gray Wolf Shifter, nor the Angel.

Fuck, this was impossible.

He rubbed a hand over his face. Keeping tabs on Fanny throughout the evening had been exhausting, but his Bull would not relent his watch.

She was sitting with a small, coy smile on her face as she talked with a tall, thin Vampire, dressed in a ridiculous purple suit that appeared more costume than his actual clothing.

Looking down, Asterion supposed he was one to talk. He missed his sweatpants.

True, Arachne had created what he had asked for. Something that was uniquely him, and representative of his life and position. He was quite comfortable in it, even if he felt a little exposed.

The burgundy chlamys was clasped over his right shoulder, a nod to his days in the military. The cloak flowed down his back, stopping just past the hem of his chiton. The Spider Shifter did a fine job, and he admired the silver and burgundy thread woven throughout the tunic, almost as much as he did the feel of the cool armor against his hot skin.

This was the traditional warrior clothing of his people, and for whatever reason, Arachne had felt it fitting for this night. He was there to find his mate, but no one seemed to fit the bill. The buzzer rang time and again, but all Asterion could see was her.

No one else in the room mattered.

“Are you even listening?” a purple haired Fairy asked.

“No,” he ground out. “Excuse me.”

He stomped across the room, ignoring gasps and whispers as he passed, accidentally knocking a Troll off his chair in his haste. He did not stop until he stood right beside her.

Fanny tilted her head back as she looked at him, shock in her then steel-colored gaze.

“Asterion, um, did you need something?” she asked.

“Yes,” he nodded, eyes flashing to her not-so-speedy date. “The rules of Speed Dating state you must move on when the bell chimes,” he said, nodding at the Vampire who was watching him, appearing almost bored at the interruption.

“Oh, are you the rules police? Well, Officer Beef Stick, we were not finished talking—”

“Do you want to talk to this male, Fanny?” he asked, addressing the Witch only. If he looked at that idiot Vampire another second, he was afraid he might do something foolish.

“We’re fine, Asterion,” she said, smiling tightly.

“Hey, stay for a minute,” the male said, smiling widely. His gaze kept roaming over her ample bosoms, and Asterion was barely hanging on to his control. He tried to walk away, but the moron kept on talking.

Grrrr.

“I was about to tell Fanny a joke. Rumor is, you love them,” the Vampire said, winking at her.

Asterion snorted a cloud of smoke from his nostrils, but the idiot male did not heed his warning.

“Okay, here we go. Did you hear how Loki saved Thor’s butt? No—with an Ass-gard!” the Vampire chortled loudly. Supernatural hearing, being what it was, meant others around them began snorting with laughter as well.

Asterion’s gaze locked on Fanny, and he saw her discomfort. She hated those jokes. He knew she did.

“What? You’re not laughing? Fanny? I thought you enjoyed butt jokes—”

“Uh—” Fanny did not finish her thought before Asterion had the bloodsucker by the throat.

“Actually, she doesn’t like them at all, dickhead.”

The Vampire shoved his hand away, snapping his needlelike fangs at Asterion. He punched him in the gut, and his inner beast really got angry.

The café erupted into madness as the two creatures clashed together like the titans they were. His Bull gave him just enough to half-form. Horns erupted from his head, the septum appeared through his morphed nose, and his legs became that of the beast. Asterion bellowed before smashing his cloven-hooved fists into the Vampire’s hard as fuck face.

The bloodsucking prick shook it off, coming at him again with claws and the strength of a dozen or more men. They pummeled each other savagely until someone with a shit ton of power screamed.

“STOP IT!”

Fanny’s chest was heaving, and her magic swirled around her in beautiful red flames. His heart pounded faster as he took her in for the marvel that she was.

Mine.

“What the hell are you doing, Asterion? You came all this way to attend Speed Dating to find your fated mate, not to act like my damn keeper! How could you?” she asked.

“Fanny, please. Just listen to me. Last night—”

“No. Last night was a one off. That was what we said.”

“It was a mistake—” he began, but she did not let him finish. He had not been saying the night was a mistake, just that claiming it was a one time deal had been a mistake.

Shit.

He was fucking this up.

“Just leave me alone, Asterion,” she said, storming off with sparks and flames shooting off angrily behind her, preventing him from following.

Aphrodite and Eve glided over to her, checking the damage. Both Goddess and Vampire looked pissed as hell, but he did not care a fig for either of them. He only had eyes for her.

His sweet Fanny.

“That is it. You and you—BANNED!” the Goddess screeched.

His Bull snorted and growled. An unknown force seemed to wrap around Asterion and the Vampire he had been fighting with, pulling them both out of the establishment. When it finally let go, he was shoved hard, landing on his ass outside in the dirt.

The Vampire took one look at him and took off, clearly not liking what he saw. Not that he could blame him. Asterion’s whole body was shaking. He’d messed this whole thing up. Eve and Aphrodite’s Speed Dating was his only chance at finding his mate, and now he would be doomed to live without one.

You really are dumb as fuck.

He shook his head. His Bull had never spoken like that to him before.

Shit.

Asterion fell back down as pain the likes of which he had never felt before struck him right in the chest.

He’d been so stupid, so blind.

And now he was going to lose her!

No.

Fuck no, not that.

He was a total moron, but he would be better. For her, he would be anything. He just needed to convince her he was serious. Asterion had come to the Underworld hoping to find his mate at this Speed Dating event, but now, he knew he’d already found her. He just needed to convince Fanny that she was it for him.

She was his one and only.

He returned to the cottage, picking up her scent outside. But once he entered, he found it cold and empty. It was like the light had gone out of the world, and he felt her loss keenly. Asterion looked from room to room, hoping maybe he was wrong. But no. Fanny was not there.

He sat heavily on the couch and only then did he see a note on the coffee table.

Asterion, I am going away for a few weeks. All my clients and students have been contacted. I expect you will be gone when I return. I am sorry you feel last night was a mistake. I know I am not destined for a fated mate, and I am sorry if I cost you your chance at finding yours. I was alone before you came and wrecked everything—even me. Yes, I mean that. You wrecked me. Now, I have to get used to being alone again. There really isn’t anything else to say except goodbye.

—Fanny

He gripped the parchment tightly in his hands and tossed his head back, bellowing mournfully at his loss. She would come back, though. She had to come back.

“Silly Witch, you are not alone and you never will be again,” he growled, fighting the tears that clogged his throat.

She had a seven thousand pound Bull at her beck and call, and fuck, there was not a thing he would not do for her. Starting with her barn and the field next door. He was going to win the half-Demon Witch’s heart, even if he had to kill himself with work to do it.

Mine.

CHAPTER 9

The Underworld sky was dark gray that morning with dozens of blue swirls and teeny tiny sparkles, like stars overhead.

Lucifer must be in a whimsical mood, she mused, taking a large sip from her drink. The cruise ship lurched, and Fanny held on to her deck chair, ignoring the couples canoodling on the observation deck around her.

Mom and Dad were watching her covertly, or so they thought, but she felt their stares. The pity in their eyes stung, and she would have told them so, if she was not feeling perfectly dreadful about everything herself.

“That was a mistake.” Asterion’s voice echoed through her brain, and she wanted to howl her grief.

How could he think that after she had given herself so freely?

It had been the best night of her life. Not a mistake. And she wanted to hate him for thinking so, but she couldn’t.

She loved the idiot MooMoo Cow.

“Darling, it’s not that Mom and I don’t love that you decided to visit us, on our vacation,” Dad started.

“It’s just that, well, this is our second honeymoon,” Mom finished. “You know, we never did get one, on account of you being there already, and all.”

“I know, Mom, Dad,” Fanny said, and expelled a sigh.

She’d totally crashed her parents’ Cruising the River Styx vacation for honeymooners, and she had never felt so damn bad about a vacation.

Was everyone in the Underworld mated?

What the actual fuck?

“I’m going back home tomorrow,” she murmured, but she had said that a dozen times already this week.

“Sweetie,” her dad said, and she saw silver flames dancing in his Demon’s eyes. “Did someone hurt you? Cause I swear on all that is unholy, I will smite the wretch—”

“Harold!” her mother hissed and shook her head. “Dear, are you sure you don’t want to discuss anything with us?”

“It’s nothing,” she moaned, then took another gulp of her spicy Bloody Mary. It was her fourth one, and her second order of wings. Wallowing in self-pity made her pig out, apparently.

“Fine,” she conceded, ready to tell her terrible truth to her parents. “I went to a Speed Dating thing with this guy who was living with me—”

“What? You have a boyfriend?”

“No! He is not my boyfriend. We’re just… Ugh, I don’t know what we are. But he broke my store. But he stayed to fix it. Then, we kinda got close. But it was not meant to be. He said it was a mistake, and, I mean, he is right. I don’t have a fated mate. He does. I knew better than to get attached. I’m a half-Demon Witch, whatever that means, and I know it just is not in the stars for me. He was just so sweet, and clumsy, and sexy, and he was honest the whole time about coming here just for Speed Dating to find his mate. He’s a Shifter,” she explained—badly. “I guess I just hoped it was me, even if Witches don’t have them.”

“Did he touch you?” her father growled.

“Daddy! I am a grown ass woman. I am not having that conversation with you.”

“Honey,” her mother interrupted. “I am trying my best to follow, but I have a question. Why do you think Witches can’t have fated mates?”

“What?” Fanny asked, eyes bleary from too much vodka induced crying.

“Demons, Witches, Shifters—whatevers—the Fates pair folks up all the time. Witches and Demons both have fated mates, Fanny.”

“Really?”

“Of course, I knew this little firecracker was mine the second I saw her gorgeous little smile and those plump, perfect lips,” her father answered with a wicked glance at her mother, who giggled like a schoolgirl in reply—ewww.

“But I am half of each. I never felt that pull. Doesn’t that mean?”

“What? Honey, if you are fated to be with someone, you will know.”

“How?” she asked her mom.

“Easy. Do you find yourself smiling for no reason at all whenever he is near you? And when he’s not, do you miss him more than anything else? Wanna tell him every minute of what you’ve been doing when he was not there?”

“When I am not with your mother, she fills every thought in my head, little one,” her father added. “I never feel as good about myself as I do when I am with her. Your mother completes me. She is my whole heart.”

“Oh Mom, Dad. That is just so beautiful,” Fanny whimpered.

“Do you love him, Fanny?”

“I think so. No. Yes, I mean, I know I do,” she said firmly.

“Then what are you waiting for, baby girl? Go get him,” her mom said, kissing her on the forehead.

Her heart was pounding as she hugged her father goodbye and raced to the stateroom she’d been staying in to grab her things. It was Wednesday again, exactly one week after her disappearance.

Who knew where Asterion had gone?

But one thing was certain, she was never going to find him by hiding out on this boat. Her parents were right. If she loved him, she owed it to him to tell him.

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

Fanny had never been brave, but for him, she wanted to be. Memories of their night together flooded her, and she realized she’d given him so much more than her body that night. She changed quickly out of the bathing suit she’d been wearing on deck, and into the same magenta dress she’d had on the first time he came crashing into her life.

Mine.

Her inner Demon’s voice was clear as a bell when that word whispered into her mind. Asterion the Minotaur was hers. She just had to tell him and see if he felt the same.

Oh please oh please oh please.

Please be there.

Please love me.

Love me.

Just love me as much as I love you.

It was quite the ordeal, hiring a small charter boat to come pick her up and take her back to the banks of the Underworld. From there, she hitched a ride to her cottage, staring in awe as she saw the changes he had made.

The barn was fully renovated, all the repairs complete. The whole building was shiny and red with its new coat of paint, the sheds behind it as well. In front, stood the model she’d made of his Bull and—ohmygawd—there were dozens of the planters her class had started, but they were finished and overflowing with flowers.

In fact, the entire field that was once a vast empty lot of weeds and dust was now made up with neat little rows of green vegetables, and flowers in every color. It was like a living, breathing rainbow right in her backyard. Among the rows stood one figure—and he was wearing gray sweatpants while a throng of supposed customers, wait, no—not customers.

“Sacrifices,” she gasped.

These women had followed her Bull to the Underworld! They were hanging around holding signs that read “eat me Bull man”.

Shameless hussies!

Standing there, whispering, and ogling his shirtless body as he worked. As if he were just a piece of meat.

Hell no.

That was sure as shit not going to fly with Fanny.

Mine!

CHAPTER 10

How long ‘till you come home, my heart?

Please return to me.

I need you, Fanny.

Asterion grunted as he pulled the irrigation system into place. The seeds Hera had given him were proving divine, indeed. They were magicked to withstand tough climates, and he had to admit, even he was impressed with their growth rate. The Underworld was not easy on any kind of farming, but these seeds were flourishing under his watchful eye.

Tilling the soil in his fur, Asterion had worked day and night to ready this place, to make it worthy of his love. His heart was ever hopeful, and try as he might to find her, he was unsuccessful.

Where had the little Witch gone?

After hiring his third investigator, Asterion had finally heeded some advice.

“Just wait for her, cow man,” Arachne had told him. “She won’t stay away forever. It’s her house.”

That had been a huge duh moment for the boorish bovine, but he had listened and focused on creating the kind of home Fanny would be proud to come back to. Fixing her shop had been first, then he’d set out to make it better. Word had spread at the work he’d been doing, and some of Fanny’s students had taken it upon themselves to come and finish their latest projects with him working the kilns and minding the store.

They’d been thrilled when he gave them the option to use the soil he’d tilled and seeds he’d gained to grow flowers in the planters they’d made. They had even insisted on using them to decorate the front of the shop as a welcome home for Fanny whenever she returned. Pride filled him, and worry too.

Would she like it?

He could only hope.

Please, come home soon.

My love, my heart, my mate, return to me.

His silent prayer was the same one he’d repeated every minute since she’d failed to come back to him that terrible night. He’d messed up so badly and had said things he did not mean. What a fool he’d been. Thinking love was a game he could win or an item he could pick up anywhere, like a box of mac and cheese—a fantastic vegetarian meal, and he could make it vegan with soy milk and cheese.

Asterion had traversed the entire Earth, all the way to the Underworld, in hope of finding his one true and fated mate at the Underworld Café Speed Dating event—but he had failed at that. And yet, failing had never felt so right.

Truth was, he had found his fated mate in a sexy half-Demon Witch long before he had ever stepped foot inside the Underworld Café. Fanny Meyers was it for him. His Bull had imprinted on her, and the beast would not look at another.

A wave of giggles reached his ears, and he frowned, hard. Silly women had come from Crete all the way here just to hold their dumb signs.

As if he would ever look their way. He’d told them repeatedly he was not interested, but they would not give up. Oh well. He could not control others, only himself. Asterion was a one woman Bull, and he could not wait until she was back so he could prove it. He would beg, borrow, steal, beg, kill, die—anything—he would do anything and all for her.

He closed his eyes and breathed in, identifying each flower and plant by scent. The cacti were coming in, and he could not wait until they were ready. They were by far his favorite of all blossoms.

Probably because who would expect something so beautiful to come out of something so deadly and misunderstood?

Cacti were magnificent little plants, holding water where there was none, sustaining life where it should not be possible, and producing some of the prettiest blossoms and sweetest fruits of all.

Asterion hummed in satisfaction as he stood there, thinking about the day Fanny would be back to see all this, and hoping like fuck she would approve. He froze as familiar notes of sweet grass and spice reached him.

“Fanny?” he whispered, turning around, and finding her with his gaze just before she sent her magic zapping each one of those female sacrifices on their butts.

“I better not see you around here again,” she snapped at the screeching females who were running for their lives.

“Fanny!” Asterion bellowed and galloped across the field, vaulting over the fence, and stopping just in front of her.

His brown eyes ate her up, and fuck, if that thought didn’t send darker, naughtier images racing through his brain. His cock was already hard for her, his mouth watering, and his heart damn near beat him to death for wanting her.

“Hi,” she whispered shyly, clearing her throat like he didn’t just witness her raising hell on his behalf. “Sorry, um, my Demon half seems to be a bit territorial over you.”

“Just your Demon half?” he asked. A smile teased at the corner of his lips, threatening to split his face wide open.

“My Magic side too,” she mumbled, tucking her hair behind her ears.

Pretty Witch.

Beautiful Mate.

“I didn’t know if I would find you here,” she said, and he hated the uncertainty in her voice.

“I don’t want to be anywhere else, Fanny.”

“You mean that?”

“Yes. I do. I love you,” he murmured, reaching out with his soil smudged hand, and touching her face anyway. He couldn’t not touch her. It was impossible.

“You love me?”

“Of course, I love you,” he said, and pulled her tight to him.

She went willingly—thank fuck.

Then, he was kissing her, breathing her in, savoring her mouth like a dying man begging for water. Asterion crushed her to him, lifting her off the floor and growling like the beast he was when her legs wrapped around his waist.

She looked so good in that dress. Good enough to eat, and fuck was he starving. But he would not rush this, their reunion. Instead, he let her know with every swipe of his tongue, and the constant pressure of his mouth, how much he cared. He would be steadfast. Never leaving, never fading, always there. He was her mate. Whatever she had thought, she did not know he was hers. He needed to tell her.

“You are mine,” he whispered against her mouth, nipping the skin at the base of her throat with his blunt teeth. “Mine, Fanny. Only mine, all mine. And I am yours. Mate, you’re my mate.”

“And you are mine. I never knew I had a fated mate, but you are it, Asterion. I love you so much, and I missed you—”

He cut off her words with a kiss, this one soul deep and hot enough to kindle fires inside both of them that would never wink out. He continued to whisper to her words of love and possession, running them together, making a mess of things, as was his way. But his mate, sweet Fanny, did not seem to mind one bit.

Thank the gods.

She really was perfect for him.

“Take me to bed, my mate,” she murmured, and he did.

Carrying her across the lot to the cottage he’d been keeping clean and warm and ready for her return. He undressed the two of them before they even got to the bedroom, but she had other plans for him. Tugging on his hand, she pulled him into the shower. His breathing was ragged as he watched her step under the warm spray of water.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

“I’m glad you think so,” she whispered, and took the soap in her hands, rubbing them all over him.

Her hands left trails of fire. So good to be touched, to be loved. And he felt her love inside every single cell. She was pouring it into him, emptying her feelings through the bond they’d created that night when they’d made love. Asterion had not recognized it then, but the second she left, he had felt it for what it was.

“Love me,” he growled, and slipped his hands around her waist, pulling her closer as they kissed, and kissed, and kissed.

“I do. I love you,” she whimpered as he slid his fingers over her slippery skin.

Finding her needy sex, he kissed her against the shower wall and dipped his fingers inside her molten heat. She was so wet, so hot, so ready for him. Fanny grinned and bit his lip, pushing him away so she could turn around.

Holy fucking hell.

She was so sexy, bending over slightly, gripping the metal handle on the wall while her perfect apple shaped ass pressed against his engorged cock. Asterion growled. He covered her hands with one of his, while fitting his dick at her entrance.

“Mine,” he growled and pushed inside.

He was so deep, deeper than before, and her pussy gripped him tight as his Bull took over. The animal wanted him to claim her, and this was part of it. He fucked her in long, hard strokes, touching her in places neither knew existed, if her pants and moans were anything to go by.

Fanny arched, crying out helplessly as he pounded her from behind. It was raw and raunchy, but fuck, he could not stop if he wanted to.

And he did not want to.

“Fanny,” he growled, needing her reassurance this was okay.

“More. Harder,” she growled, and that was all he needed.

He leaned forward, holding her in place with his teeth as he deepened his strokes. Finding her sweet little nubbin with his free hand, he tapped the bud in time with his pistoning hips. Each slide of his dick was bringing him closer and closer to the edge. But he would be damned if she didn’t fly off with him.

“Come for me,” he growled, his teeth still holding her skin.

“Oh fuck,” she moaned as it started to happen.

His Bull snarled at him, and Asterion bit down just as her walls squeezed him tight. Her pussy contracted, squeezing, and milking him as she came apart all over his dick, and fuck, he loved it. Loved that he could make her so hot that he, Asterion, the Minotaur, could feel so good. Her pleasure was his, and vice versa.

When he finally came inside her, shooting his load deep into her womb, he felt his entire body explode in ecstasy.

Fuck, yes, nothing had ever felt so right.

He’d earned her orgasm with every slide and swivel of his hips, and now, he was marking her with his cum.

Asterion turned her around and lifted her under the spray, rinsing them both before he carried them to the bed.

“That was amazing,” she whispered, staring at him with satisfaction shining in her purple eyes. He liked her like that, sated and sexy, but he was nowhere near finished.

“Where are you going?” she whispered as he stood, his prize almost within reach. Asterion bit his bottom lip, eyebrow raised. He gave her his most wicked smile, looking her up and down before he opened his mouth.

“I’m hungry.”

EPILOGUE

Fanny sighed and burrowed deeper into the warmth of her lover’s embrace.

Wait, not lover—her mate’s embrace.

Asterion had made her his, claiming her with his bitemark several times throughout the day and night. Her own inner Demon and Magic had done the same, wrapping them both up in the red flames of her powers and sealing their bond. Now, she felt him always. His pleasure and need, his love and devotion, his hunger, as he called it, whenever he looked at her.

She’d called her parents to let them know, and they promised to visit her and meet her mate after their extended second honeymoon was finished. She’d told them not to rush. He was not going anywhere, and neither was she.

“Mmm, you awake?” he whispered, kissing her gently on the top of her head, making her feel like she was precious.

“Mmm, I was just thinking.”

“About what, my heart?” he asked.

“Nothing and everything. I mean, this isn’t how you planned everything—”

“Fanny, gardens can be planned, but not love. I am happier than I ever imagined.”

“Really?”

“Of course, my love. I have you.”

“I love you so much.”

The next day, Fanny reopened her shop while Asterion tended his fields. She could not believe the work he’d done in just a week. It was amazing, and so was he. After making a few calls to her classes, she was surprised to find Aphrodite and Eve in her store.

“Can I help you, ladies?” Fanny worried her lower lip, unsure of what to expect.

Asterion had started a fight at their Speed Dating event, and he’d basically smashed the Underworld Café to bits. She would not be surprised if there was some sort of lawsuit, or bill, he was responsible for. Well, they did not have to worry, she would take care of it from her meager savings.

“Hello, Fanny.”

“How are things?”

“Um, good. Look, if there are charges for the damage to the Café—”

Aphrodite was smiling at a miniature figurine of a seashell when she looked up, startled. Eve snorted and covered her mouth, shaking her head.

“No, no. Asterion cleared that all up after he moved his funds from Greece to the Underworld bank. He’s loaded, you know.”

“He is?” Fanny gasped.

“Oh yeah, got a deal from the bank to buy this land right out as soon as the lease is through, which he also paid for in advance. He put your name on both deeds, too.”

“What?” Her heart was pounding.

Asterion had done all that for her?

She was so surprised, and so happy, she wondered if her heart would explode from happiness.

Silly sweet Bull.

You are wrecking me all over again.

“Anyway, we just wanted to check in and see that you were happy after the event—”

“What do you mean? Technically, we met before the event,” she said, confused as fuck.

“True,” Eve conceded, gaze flashing to Aphrodite.

“But you would not have known how he felt if not for Speed Dating! So, we are taking that as a win and are claiming you two as another happy couple of our awesome event. You are welcome!” Aphrodite returned, high-fiving Eve and then Fanny.

“Oh, um, yeah. That works for me,” Fanny replied and laughed.

“Now, let’s talk about some cross promotional opportunities. We understand you do pottery classes? We were thinking some Kama Sutra based ones for our clients who need a little help with the carnal side of things,” Eve started chatting, and Fanny was too stunned to do anything other than listen and nod.

The truth was, she could make anything from clay. Teach it too. If these two ladies wanted her to teach a class featuring naughty pottery, sure thing. She had no issue with it.

How could she when they were right?

She might not have found Asterion at their Speed Dating hullabaloo, but he came to the Underworld because of it. That meant she was in their debt. So yeah, Fanny would teach all the dirty statue classes they wanted, and happily too.

The women stayed for a while, and when she waved them off, she realized it was lunchtime already.

Fanny went to fetch Asterion from the garden center he’d created, but he was not there. Frowning, she walked to the cottage and found her big, beautiful bovine was already inside, and he was putting the finishing touches on the table where they ate almost every meal.

“What’s this?”

“Hello, beautiful,” Asterion said, turning around to kiss her quickly on the lips. “Sit.”

She’d been hoping for a longer kiss, but Fanny should not complain. They always had that night.

“I made sandwiches,” he said, and winked, handing her a plate of a daintily cut PB&J.

“You must really like these now,” she mused, taking a bite, and chewing thoughtfully.

“Yes, I do. They are fast to make, though you must eat them carefully so as not to choke.”

“Oh no, did I make you arachibutyrophobic?”

“What? Is that a butt joke, Fanny?” he asked, perplexed.

“No!” She said and laughed. “It’s a real thing—a person who fears choking on peanut butter.”

“Ah, no, not at all. I like these,” he said, clearing their dishes and pushing back her chair before kneeling in front of her.

“What are you doing,” she murmured, gasping as he slid his callused hands up her thick thighs, squeezing the sensitive flesh as he parted her legs.

“As I was saying, I like peanut butter sandwiches cause they are fast, and give me plenty of time to eat what I really want, mate,” he murmured with that sexy timber to his voice she so loved.

“Mine. Mate. S’good.”

Fanny gasped and threaded her fingers through his hair as Asterion showed her exactly how he felt about her. Her insatiable Bull lapped at her slit, bringing her to climax with his expert tongue until she felt boneless.

“Need you,” he grunted, lifting her up, and bringing her down on his hard shaft.

Fuck, it felt so good.

She rocked her hips, loving the way his muscles bunched beneath her hands. His cock buried so deep, she couldn’t be sure where he ended and she began. Love filled her, overwhelming all of her senses as they claimed each other all over again on the kitchen floor.

And as they righted their clothes and washed the dishes before returning to complete their work days, Fanny made a promise to herself. She was going to allow herself to be happy. To embrace this love for what it was, a gift, and to never stop working on it with him. They both deserved the very best from each other. That night she told him so with her words and her body.

“I love you with all my bullish heart, Fanny Meyers. And I promise that even though I might wreck things, I will always be there to pick up the pieces and fix what I break. I will never give up on us.”

“I’ll pick up the pieces with you, mate. Neither of us will ever be alone again.”

And they lived happily ever after…

The end.

Thanks for reading!

Liked this installation of Speed Dating with the Denizens of the Underworld?

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WATCH FOR THE OTHER BOOKS

Watch for the other books in the

Speed Dating with the Denizens of the Underworld Series

Lucifer

Ash

Azrael

Samael

Azazel

Hecate

Bastet

Cain

Thor

Demi

Hell's Belle

Arachne

Osiris

Hades

Lilith

Adam

Loki

Orion

Cassiel

Hera

Asterion

Zeus

Seth

Michael

Athena

Triton

Medusa

Fenrir

Apollo

Raphael

Spike

Poseidon

Gabrielle

Kuaket

Artemis

And More!

OTHER TITLES BY C.D. GORRI

Paranormal Romance Books:

Speed Dating with the Denizens of the Underworld

Witches of Westwood Academy

Twice Mated Tales

Hearts of Stone

Accidentally Undead

Moongate Island Mates

Mated in Hope Falls

Macconwood Pack Novel Series

Macconwood Pack Tales

The Falk Clan Tales

The Bear Claw Tales

The Barvale Clan Tales

Purely Paranormal Pleasures

The Wardens of Terra

The Maverick Pride Tales

Dire Wolf Mates

Wyvern Protection Unit

EveL Worlds

The Guardians of Chaos

Howls Romance

Island Stripe Pride

Hungry Fur Love

Standalones

Barvale Holiday Tales

Shifter Unleashed Anthologies

Anthologies

YA Urban Fantasy Books

ABOUT C.D. GORRI

C.D. Gorri is an USA Today Bestselling and Award-Winning author of steamy paranormal romance and urban fantasy. She is the creator of the Grazi Kelly Universe.

Join her mailing list here: https://www.cdgorri.com/newsletter.

An avid reader with a profound love for books and literature, when she is not writing or taking care of her family, she can usually be found with a book or tablet in hand. C.D. lives in her home state of New Jersey where many of her characters or stories are based. Her tales are fast paced yet detailed with satisfying conclusions.

If you enjoy powerful heroines and loyal heroes who face relatable problems in supernatural settings, journey into the Grazi Kelly Universe today. You will find sassy, curvy heroines and sexy, love-driven heroes who find their HEAs between the pages. Werewolves, Bears, Dragons, Tigers, Witches, Romani, Lynxes, Foxes, Thunderbirds, Vampires, and many more Shifters and supernatural creatures dwell within her worlds. The most important thing is every mate in this universe is fated, loyal, and true lovers always get their happily-ever-afters.

For a complete list of C.D. Gorri's books visit her website here: https://www.cdgorri.com/complete-book-list/

Thank you and happy reading!

del mare alla stella,

C.D. Gorri