Page 68 of Shattered Veil
The labyrinth swallows us whole, its twisting paths a maze of riddles and deathtraps. Every step could be our last.
I need to stay alert, to push thoughts of Brigid from my mind. But as I navigate the tunnels, I can’t concentrate properly. All I can think about is her. All I can feel is that damn mate bond. It’s fucking annoying.
This was never part of the plan.
But as I round another corner, narrowly avoiding a spike trap because I’m thinking about her fucking lips and the taste of her mouth, I realize it’s too late. I’m already in too deep. This is more than it should be. We’re connected, but there’s something else happening. And if the wrong people found out, they’d end me in a heartbeat. They’d end her.
I shake off the thoughts and pay attention to where I am. The labyrinth’s oppressive gloom moves in, broken only by sickly green flames flickering in sconces at intervals. The air reeks of decomposition and rot.
Ahead, I spot Brigid. She’s studying a section of wall covered in symbols. Her fingers trace the patterns, brow furrowed in concentration.
“Fuck,” she mutters, slamming her palm against the stone.
Even her frustration makes me hard for her.
A scream echoes from somewhere deep in the maze, and Brigid’s head snaps up, eyes wide. She hesitates, only for a fraction of a moment, then keeps moving.
I follow, staying in the shadows.
Navigating further into the labyrinth, there are a series of escalating challenges that test intellect and resolve. The first challenge presents itself as a twisted tunnel lined with shifting mirrors reflecting distorted images. With each step, the reflections morph.
I watch Brigid pause, her eyes narrowing as she studies the warped reflections. She reaches out, her fingers brushing against one of the mirrors. The surface ripples like water.
She takes a deep breath and steps forward, her hand still on the mirror. As she moves, the reflections shift, creating the illusion of multiple paths. She takes a hesitant step forward, and the reflections twist violently. A hundred Brigids stare back at her, each pointing down a different path. One reflection catches my eye—it shows Brigid walking confidently down a brightly lit corridor. It looks too easy, too inviting. A trap, for sure.
Brigid’s eyes dart between the mirror paths. I can practically see the gears turning in her mind as she analyzes the situation. She takes a tentative step forward, then freezes as the floor beneath her foot gives a subtle click.
Fuck. That’s not good.
Brigid jerks her foot back just as a panel slides open, revealing a pit of razor-sharp spikes below.
She exhales slowly, her eyes scanning the mirrors again. This time, I notice a pattern in her gaze—she’s not looking at the reflections themselves, but at the spaces between them.
“It’s not about what I see,” she murmurs.“It’s about what I don’t see.”
Brigid reaches out, her fingers tracing the air between two mirrors. As her hand passes through the space, it disappears for a split second. A grin spreads across her face.“Gotcha,” she whispers.
Smart girl.
It’s my turn. The mirrors try to disorient me.
I step up to them, my reflection fracturing into a thousand shards. Each one shows a different path, a different version of me. Some lead to treasure, others to certain death.
This is going to be a bitch.
I close my eyes, trying to concentrate. When I open them, the mirrors have changed again. Now they show scenes from my past—things I’d rather forget. I see myself as a child, alone and scared. Then, as a teenager, my father piercing my skin with a shadow sharp as a needle, as he adds another tattoo to my arm. The images flicker faster, a rapid-fire assault of memories.
“Nice try,” I mutter, gritting my teeth.
I force myself to look beyond the images, searching for the pattern Brigid found. The spaces between the mirrors seem to vibrate, barely noticeable unless you’re looking for it. I reach out, my fingers brushing the air between two panes.
Nothing happens.
“Shit,” I pull my hand back.
The mirrors shift again, this time showing possible futures. I see myself with Brigid, smiling and naked underneath me, as I fuck her, my skin against hers, her eyes never leaving mine.
Then I see her broken body, lifeless eyes staring up.
