Page 6 of Labyrinth of Broken Vows
He laughs, loud and cruel, shaking his head. "Oh, Brielle, you really don’t get it, do you?" His tone is thick with mockery, like he’s talking to a child. "There’s no peace with monsters. They don’t change. They don’t deserve peace. They deserve to be slaughtered, and that’s exactly what we’ll do."
"But I thought—" I start, but he cuts me off, his voice darkening.
"That’s exactly why you’re here, Brielle," he says, his eyes narrowing. "That’s why I keep you inside, protected. You have no idea what it’s like out there. The things I see… the monsters trying to breach our walls… They’d tear you apart. You think that little mark on your lip is bad?" His hand gestures to my mouth, and I resist the urge to flinch. "That’s nothing. They’d rip you limb from limb, and you wouldn’t stand a chance."
He leans back in his chair, watching me, as if daring me to argue. But I don’t. My hands clench under the table, nails digging into my palms as I force myself to nod. I can feel his words winding tighter around me, each one a reminder of how much he wants me to believe I need him. That without him, I’d be nothing.
"You see?" he says softly, almost kindly now. "That’s why you need me, Brielle. I keep you safe. I protect you from the things you could never handle on your own."
The silence stretches between us, heavy and suffocating, as I wrestle with the conflicting feelings swirling inside me. His words, meant to reassure, only bind me tighter in my fear. I try to picture a world outside these walls, one where I could breathe without the weight of his gaze, but all I can see are shadows and monsters lurking, ready to rip me apart.
"I just want you to be safe," he says, his tone softening, but it doesn't reach his eyes. There's always something cold lurking beneath the surface, a predatory glint that reminds me of the man I married. "You understand that, don’t you?"
"Yes," I reply, the words slipping out like a whispered prayer. It’s what he wants to hear, what I’ve been conditioned to say. "I understand."
He stands, brushing crumbs from his uniform, and I can’t help but watch him as he gathers himself. The weight of his presence feels oppressive, and I want to shrink away, disappearinto the shadows of our home. Instead, I remain seated, a puppet dancing to the strings he pulls.
As he leaves, I sit there for a long time, staring at the remnants of his meal, my heart thumping in my chest. Henry mumbled something about a long day and made his way to the bedroom without another glance in my direction. I lingered, pretending to finish cleaning the kitchen, but my mind was elsewhere, drifting like the quiet outside. Once he was gone, I found myself drawn to the window again, staring out into the night as if it held answers I didn’t even know I was searching for.
The sky had darkened completely, a faint mist curling along the cobbled streets. The moon hung low, casting a silvery glow over everything, and for a moment, it all seemed... peaceful. Too peaceful for the turmoil that churned inside me. I rested my forehead against the cool glass, my thoughts a jumbled mess of the Maze King, Henry’s cruel condescension, and the nagging sense of unease that had crept up on me earlier.
Suddenly, something caught my eye—a flicker of movement. A crow, black as ink, landed on the ledge just beyond the window. My breath hitched as the bird turned its head slowly, fixing me with an eerie, unblinking stare. Its dark, beady eyes bored into me, as if it saw straight through the glass and deep into my soul.
I knew it was ridiculous, but I swore the crow was watching me—watching me in a way that felt too intentional, too knowing. My body went still, my thoughts slowing to a crawl as something unfamiliar settled over me. A fog seemed to creep into my mind, a strange, soft voice whispering just at the edge of my consciousness. I couldn’t make out the words, but the tone was soothing, a lullaby of sorts.
For the first time in what felt like years, I wasn’t consumed by fear or anxiety. I wasn’t worried about Henry or the walls closing in around me. I felt calm—at peace, even. The tension inmy muscles loosened, and I longed for that feeling to last, for the moment to stretch on forever.
But just as quickly as the sensation came, it vanished. The crow fluttered its wings, breaking our strange connection, and flew off into the night. I blinked, as if waking from a dream, just as Henry’s voice called out from the bedroom.
"Brielle! Come here!" His voice was impatient, and the peace that had settled over me moments before shattered. I walk into the room, my heart sinking at the familiar sight. Henry is already naked, standing by the bed,his gaze heavy with expectation. He doesn’t have to say a word; I know exactly what he wants.
Without hesitation, I sink to my knees, the cold floor pressing into my skin as I kneel before him. My body moves on autopilot, each step in this ritual ingrained in me. His eyes gleam with satisfaction as I drop down, and his voice, low and dripping with condescension, washes over me.
"That's it. My beautiful Brielle. The most beautiful woman in all the land," he purrs, leaning forward to grab a fistful of my hair. He jerks my head back, forcing me to look up at him. "They still sing songs about you, do you know that?"
I don’t respond, my lips pressed tightly together as he pulls harder on my hair, wrenching a small gasp from me. He smirks at the sound, his voice turning colder, more possessive.
"I am your protector. You are mine, you belong to me. Now show me how much you appreciate my protection."
With trembling hands, I take his cock in my hand, its sweaty surface glistening under the dim light. The sour tang hits my nose even before I bring it to my lips, and a wave of nausea rolls through me. He didn’t bother to clean up, of course. Why would he?
I part my lips and take the hard flesh into my mouth, the taste sharp and unpleasant, making me want to gag. My throat constricts, but I force myself to suck it down as deeply as I can,the feeling of it filling my mouth making my stomach churn. My body screams for this to end, for the humiliation to stop, but I know better. I know what happens if I resist.
Henry moans above me, his hand still tangled in my hair. "That’s it. Look at me," he demands, his eyes locking with mine. His voice lowers to a possessive growl, thick with satisfaction. "You are mine. My little caged bird."
The words hit me like a punch, but I keep my gaze on him, the sour taste of his cock flooding my mouth as I continue to obey. He yanks himself from my lips with a loud, wet pop, then, without warning, slaps me hard across the face. The sting radiates through my cheek, not as brutal as last time, but enough to send a shockwave of pain through me. My head spins, my body tensing from the hit, but I bite down on the inside of my cheek, forcing back the sobs that threaten to rise.
His hand reaches down and pinches my nipple through the cloth of my dress, hard. The pain sears through me, and a cry escapes my throat before I can stop it.
"Yes," Henry murmurs, his voice dripping with cruel pleasure. "Sing for me, little bird. Sing."
Tears blur my vision, streaming down my face as I bite down hard on my lip, trying to quiet my cries. My whole body trembles, the humiliation washing over me like a tidal wave. He watches me with dark satisfaction, reveling in my pain. This is what he wants. My tears, my submission.
"There we go," he whispers, a smile curling on his lips. "That’s what I want to see. I want to see you cry."
His hips jerk forward, pushing his cock back deeper into my mouth. My body shudders as he thrusts, his breathing growing heavier, his legs beginning to shake. I close my eyes, praying for it to be over, for the torment to end. He lets out a groan as his body tenses, and then he finishes, filling my mouth with the bitter taste of his release. The taste is vile, making my stomachtwist with revulsion, but I swallow it down, tears still streaming down my cheeks.
Henry pulls his spent cock from my mouth, his breathing uneven as he looks down at me with thinly veiled disgust. He doesn’t bother to offer me a word of comfort or affection.
