Enticed by the Satyr (Kindred Tales)

Prologue

Mia was in the secret place…the safe place. It was the place where no one could find her and no one could hurt her.

Green and purple leaves rustled overhead and the grass felt soft against her bare feet. Silvery moonlight, just barely touched with a hint of emerald, filtered down from overhead and a light breeze, filled with the rich scent of growing things, ruffled her hair.

“I’m safe here,” Mia said aloud, just to hear the words in her own ears. “I’m safe.”

“Yes, lovely one—you are safe.”

Mia gasped and whirled around, trying to see where the deep, resonant voice was coming from. There was a rustling in the leaves and then suddenly the moonlight was blocked out by a huge, looming shadow.

“Who are you? Stay away!” Mia stumbled backwards and would have fallen but the shape moved with inhuman quickness. He caught her and swept her up, cradling her close to his broad chest.

“Be easy, beautiful one,” he murmured in a deep, rumbling voice that seemed to shake Mia’s entire body since she was pressed against him. “Didn’t I tell you that you are safe? I would never harm you.”

“But…but who are you?” Mia wanted to cringe away from him, but somehow her body wouldn’t obey her commands. Instead, she felt drawn to his scent—a warm, dark, masculine fragrance that seemed to have notes of cedar and cinnamon and some deep, mysterious spice she couldn’t name.

“Who am I?” he laughed softly as he carried her through the forest, the leaves crunching under his feet as he moved, maneuvering carefully so that she didn’t get hit by any branches. “You always ask the same thing, beautiful one.”

“I…I’m not beautiful.” Mia wasn’t sure of much, but she was sure of this. Hadn’t she been told often enough how plain she was? How she needed to lose some weight? Speaking of that, the mysterious stranger must be very strong. He was carrying her as though she weighed no more than a feather pillow, which was definitely not the case.

“How do you know you are not beautiful?” His deep voice had a slight, foreign accent, though Mia couldn’t place where it was from. Was it French? Italian? One of the romance languages, surely—the words seemed to roll off his tongue, made sensuous simply by his pronunciation of them.

“I…I’ve been told so. Been told I’m not beautiful,” Mia whispered. She couldn’t understand how they had started having this conversation when she didn’t even know him…or did she? Somehow he seemed familiar, but that was crazy—right?

“You have been lied to all your life,” the mysterious man told her. “Such soft hair…such smooth skin. And your eyes are lovely.”

His own eyes were glowing faintly in the dark, Mia could see now. They shone a soft green, reminding her of an animal’s eyes. She remembered reading once that dogs and cats had many more rods or cones or some such thing in their eyes than humans did, and that was why their eyes glowed in the dark. But the man carrying her through the forest was human…wasn’t he?

He’s certainly larger than a human—he’s huge, she thought, looking up at him. His shoulders were at least twice as broad as her own, but he moved with a quiet, animalistic grace that belied his size. He’s much stronger than the average human man too. What is his accent? I wish I could place it.

“We are about to reach the end of the grove,” the man murmured. “I wonder…will you run from me as you always do? Or will you stay this time?”

“As I always do?” Mia echoed, confused. “I don’t understand.”

“You will, lovely one,” the man rumbled.

And then they came out of the forest at last and into the full light of the moon shining overhead. Mia looked up at him, striving to see his face which she somehow felt should be familiar.

His features were still in shadows, only his glowing green eyes visible. But the moonlight glinted strangely on his hair.

No, not hair, Mia realized, with a growing sense of unreality. The man did have hair—thick, black hair that fell over his high forehead. But on either side of his head were two curling, ivory horns like something you might see on a ram. They came to sharp, deadly points on either side of his face, which was still cast in shadows.

“Horns,” she whispered and heard the fear in her own voice. “You…you have horns!”

“It is the way of my kind, lovely one,” he murmured. “Please, do not be frightened—do not run from me. Have I not told you I would never harm you?”

But Mia was already struggling to get down.

“Please,” she begged, “Please, let me go!”

Regretfully, she thought, the strange, horned man—if he even was a man—set her gently down on the grass.

“Run away, lovely one,” he murmured. “Run from me if you like, but know that I am coming to find you. Soon we will be together. Soon…”