Page 22 of Labyrinth of Broken Vows
“Oh no,” I whisper, my voice trembling.
Before I can react, they’re charging. I scream and run, bolting through the clearing, my feet barely keeping pace with my panic. “Grom!” I yell, sprinting back toward the fork where I’d left him. I can hear the hounds snapping at my heels, growling like they can already taste my blood.
Grom is there, knife already in hand, his eyes wide as he sees the pack of creatures closing in. “Go, Brielle! Go!” he shouts, grabbing my arm and shoving me toward the path with the statues and stone.
I stumble forward, my breath ragged, but I can’t leave him. I stop at the entrance of the stone corridor, turning just in time to see Grom throw himself into the fray. The Shade Hounds are on him, jaws snapping, teeth tearing at his skin. He slashes at them, his knife a blur of silver, but there are so many of them. Too many.
I should help. I want to help, but there are so many, and I have no weapon. My body shakes with indecision as I crouch behindone of the statues, my heart hammering so loud I swear the hounds will hear it.
The sounds of growling, snarling, and Grom’s grunts fill the air, wet thuds following each attack. The scent of blood is sharp, metallic, thick enough to make me gag. I close my eyes, praying for him to survive, praying that it will be over soon.
Then, the silence. Heavy, tense, suffocating. My breath catches in my throat, and I wait, afraid to even peek around the corner.
“Brielle,” Grom’s voice finally breaks through the quiet, weak but alive. “Brielle, it’s over.”
I stand slowly, my legs shaky beneath me. When I step out from behind the statue, my eyes fall on Grom, leaning heavily against the stone wall, covered in blood, panting. His face is pale, his arm hanging at an odd angle, but he’s alive.
I rush toward him, my hands trembling. “Grom—”
Before I can reach him, the stone wall shifts, groaning as it begins to close. “No!” I scream, running faster, but it’s too late. The wall seals shut, trapping me on the other side.
“Brielle!” Grom’s voice echoes faintly through the stone. “It’s okay. I’ll figure this out.”
“Grom!” I bang on the stone, panic seizing my chest. “What if the hounds come back? What if they find me?”
His voice is faint, but I hear him. “It’s okay… I’ll get to you…”
His words trail off, weak and distant. I press my hands against the cold stone, tears prickling my eyes as the realization sinks in.
I’m alone again.
I feel the panic bubble up inside me, my heart racing as I glance around the clearing, the statues looming over me like silent watchers. I’m alone.Again.It’s a feeling I thought I’d escaped with Grom by my side, but here I am, just like when I first stumbled into this maze. How did it come to this? I had no idea what I was walking into, but I certainly never expected tofind a friend in the midst of all this madness. Now, it’s just me, and the weight of that thought is suffocating.
The fear grips me tightly, and I shake my head as if I can physically throw it off. No, I can’t fall apart. I have to keep moving, just like I did when I first ran in here, terrified but determined. I take a few hesitant steps, the ground beneath my feet feels unsteady, like it might shift at any moment. What if those hounds come back? What if I’m cornered again?
As I wander deeper into the clearing, I catch sight of the statues, there are so many of them, each one covered in thick, black vines that twist and curl around the stone like creeping fingers. They seem to watch me, their empty eyes filled with shadows. I keep moving, my breath quickening with every step, until I reach the center.
And there he is—the towering statue of a man. The Maze King. The one who put me in this twisted nightmare. His jaw is chiseled, body thin yet muscular, and two imposing horns jut from his head like a crown. I should feel disgust, hatred bubbling up in me for all the chaos he’s caused, and I do. I really do. If I could, I’d spit on this stone representation of him, but it would only feel like a hollow gesture.
Yet, as I study the statue closer, something catches me off guard. He’s… handsome. There’s no denying it. The sharp angles of his face, the way the light hits his stone features; it’s enough to make my cheeks flush, despite everything. Why does he have to be like this? Anger surges through me, mingling with the confusion in my chest. How could he trap me here, in a place so beautiful yet so terrifying?
But I can’t dwell on that now. I need to focus. I need to find a way out, and if Grom can’t help me, then I’ll have to do this on my own. I can’t let fear consume me. I take a deep breath, grounding myself in the moment, determined not to let the shadows around me win. I glance back towards where Gromdisappeared, wishing I could see him, hear his voice reassuring me that everything would be okay.
I started this journey alone. I can finish it that way too. I turn back to the statue, anger coursing through my veins. You think you can keep me here? You’re wrong. I will find a way out.
ten
Thorne
Morning sunlight filters through the arched stone windows, casting fractured beams that play across the elaborate spread before me; rich meats glisten, and fruits burst with color, each tempting bite beckoning me. The crow, my steadfast companion, caws softly from his perch on the back of my chair, a reminder of the tranquility I so rarely possess. This moment is precious, a fragile peace. As I slice into a succulent piece of roast, my thoughts drift to her, as they usually do. I had glimpsed her earlier, cocooned against the towering stone in the maze, her delicate form looking out of place. But the vision had wavered, shadows dancing across the image, as if the very walls conspired to obscure her from me. A tightness coils in my chest.
Suddenly, the heavy wooden door bursts open, slamming against the stone wall with a resounding thud. A warden stumbles in, dropping to one knee, panic etching lines into hisforehead. “My king,” he gasps, breathless, his eyes darting like frightened sparrows. “I must ask you; have you changed the maze?”
I fix him with a piercing glare, irritation surging through me like a dark tide. “This better be good for you to interuppt my breakfast.”
I lift my fork to my mouth, the taste of meat suddenly souring.
His voice quivers, urgency thickening the air. “I apologize, but it is not as it was. The maze has changed.”
