Page 32 of Labyrinth of Broken Vows
"Quite the show," she said, her voice dripping with amusement. "I didn’t expect that much fight from you." She stopped clapping and tilted her head, her lips curving into a wicked smile. Villina stiffened beside me, her hand already halfway to her sword.
I swallowed, my heart pounding. "Who are you?"
The woman’s smile widened, cruel and full of malice. "Your queen. Your captor. Your executioner. Call me whatever you like."
Villina scoffed, stepping forward, her voice full of venom. "How about evil bitch?"
The woman’s smile faltered, her eyes narrowing as fury flickered in her gaze. "Seize them," she hissed to the men that stepped out from the shadows around her.
At her command, several figures emerged; tall, armored men, their helmets obscuring their faces. They moved in, surrounding us with eerie precision. I raised my dagger, heart racing, and Villina readied herself beside me. One of them came for her,reaching out with a gauntleted hand. She moved like lightning, kicking him square in the head. His helmet went flying, clattering across the stone floor. But there was no man beneath the armor. Instead, a swirling, dark, menacing shadow filled the space where his face should have been, black smoke twisting and writhing. A chill swept through me, my blood turning to ice.
"What the—" Villina gasped, horror flashing across her face.
I took a step back, but there was nowhere to go. The shadow figures moved closer, their forms rippling with dark energy. The air around us thickened with an unnatural, suffocating dread. Panic clawed at me. My mind reached out, desperately, frantically searching for Thorne.
Thorne. Please... if you can hear me, I need you. We need you.
The shadows closed in, their cold, clawed hands reaching for us, and the last thing I felt was the crushing weight of dread as we were taken.
Gods... Thorne, please.
fourteen
Thorne
Fear gnaws at the edges of my mind, but I push it back, refusing to let it show. Not to my men, not to anyone. Especially not now. I know what’s happened. I know who’s behind it. Nyria. That bitter, conniving bitch who never could accept rejection. She wanted the crown more than she ever wanted me, and now, she’s going to try to take Brielle away from me, as if that would make me bow to her.
She thinks I'll crawl to her, put the crown on her head...
The thought twists my lips into a sneer. The only thing I’d ever willingly place on her is my hands—around her throat, squeezing the life from her for this treachery.
Then the sound fills my mind. Her voice. Brielle’s voice.Thorne.Not Your Majesty, not King, not with the trembling fear that everyone else seems to lace into my name. No, just my name, soft and pleading, full of desperation. The sound of itsent a pulse through me, something I’ve never felt. I’ll replay it again and again in my mind, let it anchor me in this chaos. Her whisper of my name is a reminder of what’s at stake, what I must protect.
For years, I’ve fought this feeling. Fought the need to hear her say my name. There was a time I gave up on it completely, resigned myself to the fact that I was just a monster in her eyes; someone she could never want, not the way I wanted her. I told myself that it was enough to watch from the shadows, to protect her from a distance. Pathetic, maybe, but it was the truth that settled deep in my bones.
She infected me, consumed my thoughts. It wasn’t just her beauty or her voice; it was the way she moved through life with such quiet strength, such softness. A softness I didn’t know I needed. She became the one thing that could break through the cold darkness I’ve lived with for so long. And now, hearing her voice in my mind,Thorne, the sound of it cuts through me like a blade, igniting something I can’t control. How long did I deny myself this weakness? How many times did I tell myself she was untouchable?
But with her lost, in danger, I can no longer fight it. I no longer want to. She’s burrowed herself so deep into me that I can’t separate where the need for her ends and the hunger begins.
Gods, why am I so weak for this woman?
She’s more than anyone realizes. More than even I realized. And now, Nyria’s going to try to snuff her out. Like she thinks that will fix everything, that I’ll forget about Brielle if she’s gone.
She’s a fool.
The doors to the throne room slam open, and Lord Valak storms in, his boots heavy against the stone floor. I requested this meeting, well, demanded it; and had my men drag him here the moment they found him. His face is flushed with anger, butthere’s something else in his eyes. Guilt. Fear, but not the usual respectful kind. Something deeper.
“What is the meaning of this?” he spits, his voice sharp. “Having me escorted like some common criminal?”
I remain seated, staring at him with cold calculation, my fingers tracing the hilt of the dagger strapped to my side. My brow furrows, and I allow the tension to stretch between us.
“You didn’t miss me, Valak?” I ask, my voice low and deadly calm. I rise slowly from the throne, taking my time. I want him to feel the weight of my presence. “I brought you here to question your whereabouts.”
He swallows hard, shifting slightly, but his bravado remains. “I left here on your orders, as you commanded.”
“No.” My voice sharpens. “You were supposed to return to your quadrant. You were supposed to send your men to find Brielle. Why did that not happen?”
Valak’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, there’s defiance in his eyes. He doesn’t answer right away, and that tells me everything I need to know.
