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Divina waved a hand distractedly but didn’t look back.
She only looked forward, picking up her tunic skirts to run as fast as her short, human legs could carry her.
“I’m going to throw myself into a magical pond! Wish me luck!”
~ * ~* ~ *~ * ~* ~ *~ * ~
Ancient Greece. Age of Heroes. Twelve years later.
“You should come with us, my liege,” Chiron urged yet again.
As he did every four years, for the last three cycles.
When the centaurs of Pelion descended into the realm of men to collect their mates among Thessaly’s brightest and most beauteous maidens on the August full moon.
Andros watched the two dozen young centaurs who had come of age readying for their departure.
Human mates of elder centaurs fussed over them, putting the finishing touches in their braids, decorating their silky tails with finely woven flowers strung on gold and silver strings. Ladening their backs with food and water for the journey, as well as presents for their would-be brides.
It was a heart-warming, hope-inspiring sight.
This ritual had become a coming-of-age celebration for the young stallions. Before, they were untried, untethered colts, stretching boundaries, daring to break rules, carefree and wild. Though they trained early in the art of warfare—for each centaur, male or female, had the role of human protectors to fulfill—they knew little of the wondrous joy, passion and love between mates.
Now, the stallions laughed and goaded each other, full of good cheer, bravado, and boisterousness to hide their shy, sometimes skittish nature, as the unmated centaur males tended to have. Half animal, half man. Growing into their own and looking forward to finding their life’s partner.
The only exception was Andros.
“Not this time, old friend,” he murmured, wearing a small smile of both gladness for the young stallions, and a strange sadness in his heart.
He never dwelled on the ache in his chest that always grew stronger this time of year, during these three days. It spiked to almost overwhelming agony when the stallions returned with their brides. When the next weeks and months were filled with merry-making and…
Rutting.
Loving.
He hurt especially hard then.
Hurt so much he couldn’t breathe. So much, that he had started the habit of leaving the stronghold for weeks at a time. Sometimes with Chiron on some serendipitous trip to a foreign land for trade or scouting. And sometimes simply going off on his own.
This celebration made his own unmated state all the more glaring. Made the lack of a partner, a female to warm his bed and his heart, excruciating.
But he never did anything to change it.
As much as he hurt, he had no desire for a mate. No desire to fuck.
No desire at all, save fulfilling his duty and ensuring the wellbeing of the centaurs and humans under his protection.
“You are our leader. You should set a good example,” Chiron coaxed. “A mate will bring you much joy. We all wish for your happiness, my prince.”
“I am in no hurry,” Andros replied, as he always replied. It was an oft trod topic between him and his second in command.
“There is the matter of the succession to consider,” Chiron went on. “Think of our people. What will we do without your leadership?”
Andros flicked him a wry glance.
“Tired of me already?”
Chiron huffed.
