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“What kind of canine is that creature?”
His low baritone startled Divina out of her lust-fogged reverie.
“Uh…”
She cleared her throat and tried again, licking her lips to wipe them of excess drool.
“Chewie is a giant Chinese Tibetan Mastiff,” she answered in a thin, wavering voice, so very unlike her usual marshmallowy Marilyn Monroe I-Just-rolled-out-of-bed-after-a-thoroughly-satisfying-tumble voice.
Though, in her mind, she was doing just that—rolling out of bed after an invigorating, fulfillingride.
She squeezed her thighs tighter together and shifted uncomfortably on his back, embarrassed by the involuntary detours of her wanton thoughts.
“He looks more like a lion than a dog. I’ve never seen the like,” he mused, utterly oblivious to her X-rated extrapolations about his person.
“Oh, his bloodline actually has lion in it, so you are correct in that assessment,” she said in a more normal voice.
Divina could chat about her babies all day long, so the safety and familiarity of the topic temporarily soothed her frazzled nerves.
“Truly?”
She was surprised he was surprised.
“Amongst all the mythical creatures in this world, including your own kind, you’re bemused about a lion-dog?”
“Fair point.”
And now Divina was curious.
“What strange creatures have you encountered in these lands? We should know what we’re up against. We just assumed the centaurs were the strongest opposition; we never asked if there are others we should watch out for.”
Andros considered this for a few moments and answered, “I have seen mermaids frolicking in the sea on a stormy day. Nereids too. Once, I thought I heard a siren’s song, but that could have been an illusion. They tend to dwell farther out to sea, away from land-bound civilizations.”
“Are they as beautiful as the stories say?” Divina asked, thoroughly engaged in the conversation.
“I have not seen any close enough to judge. But they move beautifully in the waves, as if they were one with the sea.”
“What about magical creatures on land?”
“I’ve heard human tales of an aerie of harpies that dwell on the jagged cliffs beyond the Pelion mountains, closer to the sea. I have never seen a harpy myself, but they are reputed to be formidable foes.”
“What do they look like?”
“Some say they are beautiful winged warrior women who can fly as fast as the wind. Others say they are ugly shrews who are half women, half vulture, that steal humans’ good fortune, dine on the dead, and carry them off to the underworld.”
Divina shivered at the less attractive description. She’d rather not meet any harpies on this quest.
“There are minotaurs in the bowels of these mountains who like to make war. It is the centaurs of Pelion’s duty to keep them in check. There are also magic bulls with hoofs of brass and breath of fire—”
“Related to the minotaurs, by any chance?” Divina quipped.
“I do not know,” he answered seriously after some consideration.
He must be the most intellectually inclined centaur she’d ever met. Not that she’d met more than one up close and personal thus far in life. But she always thought centaurs were supposed to be wild and uncontrolled, prone to behave badly if alcohol was involved.
Andros was…decidedly well-controlled. He thought before he spoke, his words measured and considered.
Nevertheless, something untamed and free simmered just beneath the surface. She felt it. Like the vibrations of pebbles upon the ground while tectonic plates shifted and collided beneath the earth.
