Page 39 of Labyrinth of Broken Vows
The horde came into view, hulking, bestial forms, their bodies radiating heat like walking furnaces. Rage beasts. They roared, the sound guttural and primal as they came to a halt just ahead of us. Their massive frames were covered in thick, matted fur, twisted faces contorted in an expression of eternal fury. Steam rose from their skin, as if their bodies were too hot for the air around them to contain. I knew them well, creatures that fed off violence, thriving on the emotions of those unfortunate enough to cross their path. They were nearly impossible to kill, fighting with the strength of ten men, and their very presence could incite madness in lesser minds.
The horde parted down the middle, revealing a figure striding through them, his broad shoulders and commanding presence unmistakable. Lord Thacket of the Eastern Quadrant.
"Hey, boy!" Thacket barked, his booming voice carrying over the snarls of the beasts. "You thought you were going to start a war without me?" He let out a loud, rough laugh, the kind that echoed deep into your bones.
I raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at my lips as I lowered my sword. "Stand down," I ordered my army. Their tension eased, but they remained ready, their eyes fixed on the rage beasts, who prowled, their yellow eyes glowing in the dim light of the Maze.
Thacket approached, grinning "What, no warm welcome?" he teased.
"I simply thought you, like the rest, had betrayed your king," I said, half-joking, though there was an edge to my voice. "I was planning to hunt you down and kill you after I was done here."
Thacket barked another laugh, "Betrayal, eh? Haven't heard of him."
But then, his expression turned serious. He looked at me with an intensity that I hadn't seen in years. "I made a promise to your mother, Thorne. And I've waited a long time to see you pull yourself up, to make the moves you were always meant to make. She would be proud of you, boy." His voice softened just for a moment before it regained its sharpness. "Now let’s move. We have a queen to bring home."
His words struck me.My mother.She would’ve hated what I’d become during those years, drowning in the shadows. But now, with Brielle, I had a chance to honor my mother’s wish. The Maze had a queen, and it was time to bring her home.
Thacket let out a roar, and his rage beasts responded, their primal howls filling the air. I turned to Grom, who nodded, his expression hardening with resolve. The Maze was alive with danger, but I could feel something different now, an energy building, a fire that had been ignited deep within me.
“Onward!” I commanded, my voice cutting through the noise. The army surged forward, and I could feel the power of the Maze pulsing beneath us, shifting with every step we took.
seventeen
Brielle
Days have blurred into each other, stretching into an eternity. It’s hard to say how long I’ve been in this cell, two days, three? Time doesn’t exist down here, not in this darkness. The air is stale, thick and the silence feels heavy, suffocating. The only sound is the slow drip of water pooling near the edge of the floor. I stare at it, the tiny puddle, and lean closer, catching a glimpse of myself in its murky reflection. Pathetic. A weak, pitiful reflection of someone who was stupid enough to believe she could survive.
I wrap my arms around my knees, trying to ward off the chill creeping into my bones, but it’s useless. I feel so small here, so powerless. It’s not just the cold or the hunger gnawing at my insides; it’s the weight of failure.
Why did I think I could do this?
A thought stirs, a faint spark, buried beneath the layers of self-pity and exhaustion. The puddle distorts slightly, rippling, and I see Henry’s face flash in the water. His fists, his cruelty. I survived him, didn’t I? That violent, twisted man.
Then the knights that chased me but I made it into the maze. I made it this far. I survived. The thought isn’t much, but it’s enough to pull me out of the hollow pit I’ve been sinking into. Maybe I don’t look like much now, but I’ve been through hell already, so why the hell am I sitting here, feeling sorry for myself?
I think about Villina, strong, unbreakable Villina. I think of Alaric and his warnings. And Thorne… they keep saying he’ll come for me. That he loves me. As if love has anything to do with this mess I’ve found myself in. The thought of him makes my chest tighten, but I push it aside. It doesn't matter. I’ve depended on too many people already.
I force myself to stand, ignoring the way my legs protest, weak and shaking. I’m not going to die here, not without a fight. There’s nothing in this cell but four walls and shadows but I can’t let how far I’ve come be for nothing. I search the walls and the bars that cage me in again. I’ve lost count as to how many times I’ve done this already but I don’t care.
Suddenly, there’s a noise from above, a clattering sound, boots against stone, voices. I freeze, listening. The door slams open, the heavy sound echoing down the narrow hall. My pulse spikes. Guards. Three of them, moving with purpose, their eyes locking onto me as they unlock the cell and step inside.
This is it.
One of them grabs for me, his hand rough and unfeeling. But I’m not going quietly. Not this time. I twist sharply, jerking out of his grip, my heart pounding as I drop to the floor, using my body weight to slip from his hold. The cold stone scrapes my skin, but I don’t care. I’m moving before they can grab me again.
I sprint out of the cell, the sound of my bare feet slapping against the stone as I make a break for it. The air hits me like a slap as I burst through the door and up the stairs, lungs burning, legs screaming with every step. I don’t know where I’m going, only that I have to move.
Then I see her. Nyria.
She sits there, a twisted smile on her lips, she is pure evil and my skin turns cold at the sight of her. Her guards flank her, but none of them move. Not a single one lifts a finger to stop me.
I skid to a halt, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. My body trembles, adrenaline coursing through my veins, but it’s no use. I’m trapped. She tilts her head, her smile widening as if this is all some kind of sick game to her.
“Well,” she drawls, her voice like poison, “aren’t we in a rush to die?”
Her words hit me like a slap. The fight in me falters, but I stand tall, refusing to let her see my fear. Even if she’s right, even if I’m running straight toward death, I’ll meet it on my terms.
I make a break for the tall doors, desperate to escape this nightmare. My feet slap against the cold stone, my breath ragged in my chest. But just as my hand reaches for the iron handle, two guards step in front of it, blocking my way. I skid to a halt, my body trembling with adrenaline and exhaustion. A scream of frustration claws its way up my throat, and I can’t hold it back. I let it rip through the air, echoing in the cavernous room.
