Chapter Text

Chapter 1 A New Beginning

Clara waited in the busy coffee shop. Violet had insisted on the Black Sheep Café. And, as good friends do, Violet had been precise about exactly what to order.

“I’ll take two Honey Suckle Latte’s please with two apricot jelly cruller, please,” she said to the beautiful elf behind the counter. Trying hard not to stare at her ears, or her piqued cheeks, or the dazzling, impossibly sky-blue eyes, Clara reminded herself that in Cambric Creek, she was the odd one out. But somehow, this new place and the culture-shock felt liberating.

Clara sat at a small table in the far corner, close to some windows overlooking the street, giving her the best view of the cafe and it’s patrons. Her pale hands cupping a beautifully handmade clay mug the elf set before her and inhaled the smokey honeyed notes of the latte - suddenly the order Violet had suggested made total sense, it was divine.

She had never been to Cambric Creek before. This was her first day visiting the little town, and she was absolutely enchanted. Everything felt quaint, old-fashioned, thoughtful, and lovely. The café was no exception: cozy, with warm wood tones, black accents, and lush plants hanging from the thick timber beams above.

She could understand why Violet loved living here and why she had decided to move permanently with her partner, Roark. Frankly, the variety of creatures around her put Clara at ease more than the big city ever had. Maybe humans were just too harsh, too judgmental, too quick to assume. Clara’s shoulders relaxed as an orc lady passed by, her two little kids clutching small cups of hot chocolate.

The last time she had seen her best friend was back in school. They had  shared a dorm together making that time the most fun time of Clara’s life. School and homework aside, Violet’s friendship had been the shining beacon that kept Clara afloat. Violet was kind, considerate, and never judgmental—completely unlike Clara’s conservative family.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love her family; she did, probably too much. But they always wanted to control her life and her decisions—even their expressions of love felt conditional. Leaving for school and making her own choices had been seen as a betrayal. Clara had always been open about her dreams: she wanted to be an artist. Simon and Debra, however, wanted her to be an engineer. She had excelled in school, mastering every subject thrown her way, but that didn’t mean engineering made her soul happy. After earning her Engineering degree, she hit what she thought was her lowest point. But then she’d worked in an office, assisting civil engineers… and her mental health took a severe turn. She was too creative for retaining walls and sloped parking spots!

In secret, she started attending dance classes again, just as she had when she was younger. And it felt right. Then she’d bought some books, paints, and canvases, and suddenly, the glimmer of who she’d been started to glow again. 

Violet had been the only one who knew, supporting her through it all.

Clara pressed her lips together, silently chastising herself for not visiting her friend sooner. But it sounded like Violet was doing very well! She seemed happy and had jobs she loved.

Her eyes met Violet’s warm, brown gaze across the café. Clara waved, her heart singing at how radiant and happy her friend looked.

“I got you a honey latte, Violet! Don’t wait in line—I got two!” she called.

“Thank you,” Violet replied, leaning in for a big hug. “Sorry, I’m late. Roark insisted on driving me, and then he saw an ice cream stand…” She rolled her eyes playfully.

Clara grinned, recalling Violet’s description of the dessert-obsessed Minotaur. “So, when do I get to meet him?” A conspiratorial look passed between them before they burst into giggles. Minotaurs were undeniably sexy. Clara might have felt a twinge of jealousy if she didn’t love Violet so much. She was just thrilled her friend had found love and that her family was supportive. “Come on, Vi, you can’t hide him forever!”

Violet’s smile was broad and luminous. “I’m not! He would’ve come in now if it wasn’t for a last-minute meeting. But you’re invited over for dinner tonight—you can meet him then!”

Clara took a sip of her coffee, ready to tease. “I’ll be there. But you know I’ll ask him how you two met, and he’s a Capricorn—he won’t lie to me.”

Violet’s blush deepened.

“I’ll tell you,” Violet said, “but first, I want to show you something. My friend Grace is moving in with her boyfriend, and her place is up for rent. I thought you might be interested. She said she’d give you a great deal, and I think you’ll love it. It’s such a cute apartment—totally original with brick and wood-work, it’s a gorgeous little place!”

Clara’s eyes widened. She had mentioned on the phone that she was looking for a place, but she hadn’t expected Violet to solve her problem overnight. Excitement and gratitude washed over her. “Oh my God! Really? Here in Cambric Creek?”

Violet nodded. “Yes, it’s just around the corner. Wanna see it? It’s on the third floor, with a bedroom, a studio space, and a beautiful living room. Honestly, you’ll want it just for the bookshelves and fireplace.”

Clara stood up without realizing it. “I have to see this place!” A private library had been one of her biggest dreams. She had more books than she could handle but couldn’t stop buying them—they were her escape. Her conservative family thought of her as shy and studious, but in truth, her books fed a curious, adventurous, and romantic spirit…and sometimes her horny one too.

Violet led Clara down the tree-lined main street, past quaint shops, family-owned restaurants, and charming buildings. Around the block, they arrived at a beautiful four-story brick building. They climbed to the third-floor apartment, where Grace—a vampire and former barista at the café—was packing the last of her belongings.

“Wow, you’re just in time,” Grace said in her lilting Australian accent. Her velvety black hair tossed over a slender shoulder.“I thought it’d take longer to convince your friend to come.”

Clara was too captivated by the Craftsman-style foyer to respond immediately. She finally caught herself and waved. “Sorry, I’m Clara. It’s a pleasure to meet you! I can’t believe you’re leaving this beautiful place.”

Grace winked. “When you meet my boyfriend, you’ll understand why. He’s very persuasive. I inherited the apartment from my aunt and couldn’t sell it—too many memories. Violet mentioned you might be looking for a place. You are, right?”

“Yes,” Clara said, taking in the cozy sage-green kitchen with terracotta tiles and brass accents. “The thing is, I’m not sure I can afford it. I just left this job in Bridgeton. I haven’t found a job yet…”

Grace gave her a kind smile. “Take your time. I have a contractor coming in to fix a few things before I can rent it out, so there’s no rush.”

“Clara, I’ll help you with the job,” Violet said, putting her purse on the kitchen counter and taking Clara's hand. “You’ll love Cambric Creek!” 

“Trust me,” Grace chimed in from the fridge, “this town is way less stressful than Bridgeton.”

Clara looked around the elegant kitchen. It was old-fashioned and warm. It actually had an island - something she had never seen in tiny Bridgeton apartments. Beautiful vintage lights hung above, and another, more ornate glass light hung over a small dining room table in front of a huge Juliette window. Just to the left of them were two French doors, with a vintage stained-glass transom above; that kind of craftsmanship was so rare and unique, definitely out of Clara’s budget. But then she saw the living room through the doors…

Her heart stopped.

Huge walnut bookshelves flanked a carved stone fireplace. A rolling ladder rested atop a brass rail near the top of the shelves, reaching the ten-foot ceiling. Sunlight flooded the pale blue room through a bay window complete with a window seat that overlooked the main street she and Violet had just left. She turned to Violet, eyes wide with determination. “I’ll take it!”

Violet chuckled. “Yeah, I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist once you saw the built-in bookshelves.”

Grace’s mouth twisted into a knowing grin. “Lovey, you haven’t even seen the rest of the apartment. Are you sure?”

Clara nodded enthusiastically. “This is everything I’ve ever wanted!”

Her mind flooded with how she’d fill up the empty book-shelves, the beautiful paintings she could make for the walls, curling up on the blue velvet sofa to listen to records and watch the fire in the fireplace, with her fingers resting on a good quote in a thick book. This was exactly what her life was supposed to look like.

Grace led the way down the hallway. “This is the master bedroom. The ceiling was painted by my aunt—she loved constellations. The closet is a walk-in, and you’ll go through it to reach the master bathroom. The only quirk is that you have to let the water run for a bit before the hot water kicks in.”

The room took Clara’s breath away. It was easily one of the most stunning spaces she had ever seen. The room was a soft pink with elegant box trim around all the walls, framing lovely oil paintings or ornate light sconces. A huge, plush, rattan bed covered in white sheets and massive pillows beckoned. And, as Grace had said, the ceiling was covered in gold-leaf stars arranged in mythical constellations. Even Violet prodded her and whispered, “We’re definitely having a sleepover and watching movies here!”

Clara nodded. “It’s got a bit of a boudoir feel to it…” Her eyes lingered on the four-poster bed with sheer drapery pulled to the sides and a luscious pile of pillows. A little velvet bench sat at the foot of the bed, while low, soft lighting added to the ambiance.

“My aunt was very eccentric, very feminine, and very obsessed with French-decor,” Grace continued. “She lived in Paris for years. She brought most of the furniture from there, so I left everything exactly as she had it. Plus, she was pale like me, so these colors tones were flattering.”

Clara considered her colouring. Her red hair had darkened slightly over the years, but her pale skin remained unchanged. “Built for Irish winters,” her mother used to say, with a hint of disapproval. Unlike her mother, who had been a stunning beauty with endless suitors in her youth, Clara had never felt confident in her looks. But standing in this room, surrounded by silks and velvets, she couldn’t help but imagine tapping into a more feminine side of herself.

The next room down the hallway was smaller, with another bay window. The perfect spot for her to paint on weekends.

“This was my home office,” Grace said.

Violet stepped inside and looked out the window. “You can see Morning Glory from here!”

Grace tilted her head. “I guess I never noticed. I was too busy trying to start up my little side hustle.”

“Trying?” Clara asked. “What was it?” 

Grace rolled her eyes at herself. “I wanted to be a personal thrift shopper. I love putting outfits together, but it was time-consuming. Customers would send me their measurements and a mood board, and I’d thrift shop for them. It was fun, but I realized I had a bit of a… hoarding problem.”

Violet lifted the hem of her dress. “Grace found me this! Isn’t it adorable? I wish I could wear it every day.” The dress was a summery pink with embroidered white flowers, perfectly flattering on Violet’s petite, curvy frame.

“You have impeccable taste, Grace!”

“When I first moved in," Violet said, "Grace lent me her favourite green dress for an office party. It didn’t fit perfectly, but she just said, 'Confidence fills the gaps’.”

Clara noticed how affectionately the vampire regarded her friend–she was glad Violet had someone to help her around Cambric Creek. Grace seemed fun and bold – both Violet and Clara could use a dose of that. Out of the two friends, Violet was the more introverted and shy one. Clara was just… well, she’d never really had the opportunity to try new things and fully express herself. Until she started reading, painting, and dancing; suddenly, she understood that she was much more of an extrovert than her friend. Clara was a “toe-dipper” as Violet liked to tease, while Violet was a watcher. The two got along because of their similarities, but it was their differences that solidified their love. 

“By all means, leave some clothes here—so long as I can wear them, too,” Clara teased.

“Don’t give her ideas!” Violet warned.

“I’m pretty much the same size as you, Vi. Come on! Share!”

Violet gave her a little look, “you’re shorter.”

“Not by choice!” Prosted Clara. “You know I love vintage!”

Grace smirked. “Honestly, I’m a hoarder. It would do me good to get rid of some of the clothes.”

“Well, if a dress or two get forgotten…” suggested Clara slyly, “I won’t mind.” 

Grace winked at her. “Some furniture will definitely have to stay: the desk and chair in here, everything in the bedroom, the little dining room table, and the velvet couch in the living room. They won’t fit in Trent’s apartment.”

“Works for me,” Clara said.

“Before we get ahead of ourselves, though,” Violet interrupted, “we should talk about work .”

They moved to the living room and settled on the velvet couch facing the fireplace. Violet leaned forward, her tone serious. “Listen, Clara, I want you to apply for a position at Morning Glory, the company where I work. But I need to explain it first. It’s not a typical job.”

Clara’s curiosity piqued. “Anything outside engineering sounds good to me...You know I don’t judge. But seriously, the suspense is killing me. Just tell me!”

Violet hesitated before answering. “It’s a pharmaceutical milking farm.”

Clara blinked. “Okay…?”

“We, um, milk Minotaurs,” Violet said quietly, eyes downcast.

Clara’s mind raced. “Minotaurs? For… milk?”

“Not milk,” Violet clarified, cheeks flushed. “Semen. Their output is examined and processed into pills for human men.”

Clara froze. Her thoughts became a chaotic mix of fascination and mortification. “Oh. I see.”

“It’s very technical,” Violet added quickly, seeing her friends reaction. “You’re separated from the bulls. Machines handle the extraction, and your job is just to connect them to the pump and label the containers. It’s straightforward work, and the bulls get paid well.”

Clara glanced around the room, weighing the surreal explanation. It didn’t sound awful . And it wasn’t like she’d be dealing with men—after Callum, she’d sworn off guys.

“Trust me,” added Grace, “everyone that works there loves their jobs.”

Clara’s thoughts struggled to process, as if her mind had crashed like a lagging computer. Violet was milking minotaur cocks. Several. Daily. Her friend, Violet. Shy, reserved. “Y-you milk the minotaur men, with a machine?”

"Yes. But there is lots of training, trust me. I was terrified of messing up," Violet admitted, laughing. "The first time I tried to attach the pump, the bull had to show me how it worked. He was nicer about it than you’d think!"

Clara noticed the knowing glance exchanged between Grace and Violet, but her mind remained fixated on the idea of milking.

“There were training videos too,” continued Violet. “Once I saw how much they were willing to pay me, I watched those videos over and over again. I was determined to be best tech there. I couldn’t believe they were paying so well for people with no experience. But, I mean, it’s not for everyone.”

“Do you think I could afford rent here on Morning Glory’s salary?” Clara asked, her mind suddenly locking on what Violet said about salaries. Few things unnerved Clara more than financial insecurity. Debt, dwindling savings, and an uncertain future loomed as a source of deep anxiety and shame. Callum had been so condescending when he found out how little she’d made, questioning whether their future together made sense. She vowed to herself that she would never, ever rely on a man’s income to feel secure.

Violet lit up. “Absolutely! When I started, I could afford fancy coffees and bougie food after just one week. Grace is only asking $1,500 a month—half of what you’d pay in Bridgeton!”

Clara tilted her head, her eyes lingering on the empty bookshelves. Violet grinned. “If I can afford fancy coffees, you’ll be able to buy all the books you want.”

“Stop reading my mind!” Clara retorted playfully, throwing a little couch pillow at her friend.

“It’s a salaried position,” Violet continued. “Starting at $75,000 a year, full benefits. Plus, clients often tip. After a year, they increased my salary because clients had given me great reviews. I guess it helped that we beat out a lot of the competition. Now, I train too, I make quite a bit more.”

Clara’s jaw dropped. “That’s… amazing.” 

“Some clients even request their favourite lab technicians,” Grace added, re-entering the room and handing each girl a steaming mug of perfumed tea. “Every week, over and over again. And sometimes those clients run into you at a coffee shop, ask you out, and then you fall madly in love with them and move in with them!”

Clara gasped. “Roark?”

Violet nodded, blushing. “He was one of my first clients.”

“You met Roark while giving him a medical-grade hand job ?!” Clara burst into laughter.

“It wasn’t like that!” Violet protested.

“Well, it was close,” Grace teased.

“Violet!” Clara couldn’t contain her giggles, imagining her reserved friend ending up with a sexy Minotaur. “Roark must be sexy. You’d never risk your job like that!”

“Clara, I promise—it’s not sexy . It’s just work. And a lot of the bulls have families. This helps them pay bills and save for their kids’ futures.”

“But you can see their…” Clara’s imagination couldn’t be trusted past this point.

Violet averted her eyes again, but a faint smile traced her lips. “Yes. And a bit of their bodies.”

“Their gorgeous bodies,” Grace interjected. “Their tall, muscular, and very well-hung bodies.”

“You’ve dated a minotaur before?” Clara asked incredulously. I guess it was common for different species to date in Cambric Creek . 

“Absolutely,” said Grace. “He was amazing. But moved away for work, to Brazil. He was so sexy, I’d have gone with him too. He was an absolute beast."

Clara blushed furiously, her pale skin betraying her. 

Grace chuckled, raising the cup to her lips. “Minotaurs, centaurs, orcs, werewolves… human guys don’t hold a candle to them. Trust me, lovey, Violet didn’t stand a chance. Plus Roark was such a gentleman.”

Clara had never considered such possibilities before. In her fantasy novels, these creatures occasionally appeared, but always as harbingers of danger or destruction. The thought of them as lovers—enjoying dates, catching a movie, and perhaps indulging in playful escapades afterward—had never once crossed her mind.

But Clara was still getting over Callum. It may have been a year, but it still felt fresh. Callum had been a therapist and thirteen years older than her… his artful tactics, experience, and selfish drive had resulted in her feeling diminished. For someone who should know so much about relationships, he had been completely calculated and controlling.

Maybe this was the opportunity she was looking for: a well-paying, stress-free job out of the big city, away from entitled city guys. She would be near her best friend, in a gorgeous craftsman apartment surrounded by books and art, taking a dance class again to meet new people. 

“Trust me,” Violet said earnestly. “It’s a great way to get on your feet while you figure out what you want to do. I hated hearing how unhappy you were at that engineering job. This will give you time and financial freedom.”

“Thank you,” Clara said sincerely. “Honestly, this could be perfect.”

Violet grinned. “Then it’s settled. Just don’t think too hard about how much… volume… the bulls produce.” 

Clara leaned forward, intrigued despite herself. “How much?”

Violet’s voice was barely a whisper. “About 24 ounces.”

Clara squeezed her thighs together. “...Wow.”