Page 38 of Labyrinth of Broken Vows
I narrowed my eyes. “Speak.”
“I... failed you.” Grom’s voice faltered. “Failed the queen.”
I stiffened at his words. Queen. He already saw Brielle as his queen. My chest tightened with pride. I waited, letting the silence stretch, watching as Grom struggled with his guilt.
“I should’ve protected her,” he continued, head still bowed. “But I didn’t. And now, I ask that you allow me to join you, to fight for her, for the Maze. I will lay down my life if need be.”
A cold smile tugged at my lips. “You would sacrifice your life for her?” I asked, the words coated in steel.
“For the Maze,” Grom corrected, his voice resolute. “But Brielle is what the Maze needs. A queen worthy of the crown, and you, my king.”
His words hit me harder than I’d expected. He believed in her. He spent only a day or two in her presence and even he could feel the warmth of her. Grom knows the maze better than anyone, better than even me. To hear his words only confirms that this is the prophesy, my mothers words coming true. She is the light, the sun, and I will let her in. I have been so consumed by my own desire to possess her, to pull her into my shadows and make her mine. But this... this was different. She wasn’t just mine. She was the Maze’s queen. A queen who could balance my darkness with her light.
I looked down at Grom, pride swelling in my chest, but it was the bitter kind, the kind that reminded me how much I’d let slip in my obsession with keeping her safe. The Maze had suffered because of me. Quadrants had fallen under the rule of disloyal lords, and the people had paid the price. I’d been blind, too preoccupied with Brielle, with the relentless assaults on the walls, and with my own damn pride.
But now, standing here with Grom on his knees before me, I realized it wasn’t just about saving her. It was about saving the Maze. Everything I’d built, everything I was willing to burn for her. In Brielle’s eyes, I saw my redemption.
“For the Maze,” I repeated slowly, the words cold and heavy. “And for your queen.”
Grom looked up, his black eyes gleaming. “Yes, my king. For her.”
I allow a small smile to cross my features, Nyria waited with her twisted shadows and deceit. She had no idea the storm she had summoned.
“For the Maze,” I called out, my voice booming over the night.
And my crows—my soldiers—responded in unison.
“For the Queen.”
The rhythmic thud of hooves on the stone echoed through the Maze, my soldiers marching behind me, their wings ruffling as the wind cut through us. My mind drifted despite the tension of the impending battle, lost in the weight of my past mistakes; the most glaring one being Nyria. The thought turns my mouth sour. I was so naive and stupid. She had once been by my side, sharing my bed and filling my nights with a cold, calculated presence that I mistook for something more. But in truth, she had always been after one thing: power. She was hungry for it from day one.
I could still remember the nights spent with her. She would lie next to me, her touch cold as ice, and her words slithered into my thoughts like venom. At first, I was drawn to her,maybe because I was young and desperate to fill the void left by my mother’s death. Looking back on the memory, that’s the only explation that comes to mind. The shadows that consumed me had wrapped around her too, and for a time, I thought she understood what it was like to live in the dark.
But it didn’t take long before her touch began to make my skin crawl. She was never in it for me, never in it for the Maze. She wanted the crown, and she made that clear every night she lay beside me. Her ambitions were too great, too dark, even for this cursed place. She talked incessantly of spreading my rule beyond the Maze, using the ancient magic it held to conquer kingdoms. She wanted to manipulate the power, bend it to her will, use it to fuel her hunger for control.
That hunger... it sickened me.
I remember the day I saw her for who she really was. The day I saw through her manipulations, her sweet words that were nothing more than a cover for her greed. That was the day I stopped letting her seek me out, stopped allowing her into my chambers, my mind, my thoughts.
Her rage was instant. The mask of civility she wore so well fell away, revealing the darkness underneath; ugly and bitter. She lashed out, furious that I had denied her the control she so desperately wanted. It was then that I made my first mistake: I gave her control over the Northern Quadrant to shut her up. I thought it would pacify her, that giving her a taste of power would keep her in check. But it was weakness on my part, and I should have known better. I never should have let her sink her claws into me.
I had been a lonely king, wandering the endless nights with only the shadows for company. Nyria took advantage of that. She saw an opportunity and she seized it with all the cruelty of someone who knew exactly how to exploit weakness. Layingwith her had been like drowning in darkness, and every time she left, it felt like I could breathe a little more.
And then... then I saw Brielle.
With Brielle, I didn’t just breathe—I lived. In silent company of her is when I felt truley alive.
I shook my head, clearing the memories as we rode on. Grom remained at my side, silent but steady, his loyalty a comfort. The army moved like a dark tide, ready to reclaim what had been lost. The distant echo of cawing filled the air, and I could sense the tension rising among my soldiers. The battle ahead would be brutal, but I was ready for it. I will carve out the Crow’s eye right from her fucking head.
We pressed deeper into the Maze, its twisted walls shifting and grinding like the ribs of some ancient beast. I knew it was Nyria’s doing, her attempt to slow us down, to taunt me. The corners of my mouth tugged upward in a dark smile. She knew I was coming for her. She knew that no matter how many times she moved these damned walls, I would tear through them. This wasn’t a game; it was a death march. She could try to twist the Maze around me, but when I found her, and I would, I’d rip apart everything she thought she controlled.
I glanced over at Grom, riding steadily beside me, his face a mask of grim determination. “Has there been any other movement in the Maze I should be aware of?” I asked, my voice steady despite the gnawing sense that something more sinister lurked within these ever-shifting corridors.
Grom shook his head. “Only the walls shifting. The shade hounds are wild, lurking at every corner, and I’ve noticed a stone spider or two drifting from the Abyssal Quadrant.”
I cursed under my breath. Stone spiders were notoriously difficult to kill—giant creatures of rock and shadow with venomous fangs that could paralyze a man with one bite. If theywere coming up from the Abyssal Quadrant, it meant Nyria was truly desperate, summoning every dark thing she could muster.
Before I could respond, a noise echoed through the Maze; something that wasn’t ours. It was the sound of heavy footsteps. Then came the war cry, loud and fierce, reverberating off the walls like thunder. My army tensed, their swords drawn, cawing in anticipation, wings bristling, ready for the fight.
