15. Chapter 15
fifteen
B rielle
I wake up slowly, the cold seeping into my skin, making everything feel sluggish. My head pounds, and it’s dark, so dark that, for a second, I think I’m still dreaming. But no, the walls… they seem wet, slick with something I don’t want to think about. I push myself up, my arms trembling under my weight. Where the hell am I?
A voice cuts through the silence, low and raspy. "I'd go back to sleep if I were you."
Villina.
I squint toward the sound, my eyes barely adjusting to the darkness. Across from me, I see her, standing. She’s in a cell just like mine, bound to the wall, her head hanging heavy.
"Villina?" My voice comes out a shaky whisper, still hoarse from... I don’t even know what. "What have they done to you? Are you okay?"
She lifts her head slowly, her lips pulling into a weak, almost sarcastic smile. "You wake up in a cell, a prisoner, and you're asking me if I’m okay. Yeah, I’m fine. Just hanging around."
Her words, meant to be a joke, fall flat. My stomach churns. This is bad—really bad.
"Where are we?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady, but I can feel the panic creeping in.
"You, my friend, are now the prisoner of the bitch of the North, Nyria," Villina says with a sigh, her voice dripping with disdain. "She rules over this quadrant. A real nightmare. And I'm not gonna sugarcoat it—this is serious trouble. Nyria’s brutal. No one stays in the North for long. They either die at her hands or get smart and run to another quadrant. She and her shadows take pride in being nightmares.”
I feel a tremor start in my fingers and work its way up my arms. My whole body is shaking, and I can’t stop it. “What are we supposed to do? Why did she take us?”
Before Villina can answer, a heavy door at the end of the hall creaks open, the sound sending a cold chill down my spine. Then the echo of heels. Each step is deliberate, echoing like a countdown to something horrible.
And then... her voice. Cold. Slithering.
"Well, well, well... finally awake, are we? Now I can feast my eyes on the mighty Brielle."
Nyria’s voice is like a serpent's hiss, filled with malice. I see her before I can make sense of her words. She steps in front of my cell, tall and terrifying, her presence oppressive. Her eyes; one blue and one black and icy, sharp like a blade, rake over me with disgust, and I instinctively pull back, feeling the weight of her gaze like a physical blow.
“What do you mean? How do you know me?” My voice trembles, betraying the fear I’m trying to hide. "We’ve done nothing wrong. Let us go."
Nyria’s lips curl into a cold smile, her teeth bared like a predator toying with prey. "Oh, sweet girl, you really have no idea, do you?" She tilts her head, eyes narrowing. "Thorne has truly lost his mind if he thought I’d ever bow down to you."
Her words hit me like a slap. Thorne? What does this have to do with him? Why is she—?
She’s watching me, her smile widening as my confusion grows. And that’s when it sinks in. This isn’t just about me. This is about him.
Nyria leans closer, her voice dripping with venom. “You're nothing. A distraction. A toy. And when I’m done, he’ll know that, too.”
The air feels too thick, too heavy to breathe.
“I don’t know what you want from me, but you need to let me go.” My voice shakes as I speak, but I force the words out. “I didn’t ask for any of this. I don’t even know who you are or what you’re talking about.”
Nyria rolls her eyes, the gesture dripping with disgust. “Oh, my gods, you’re pathetic. Fine.” She throws her arms out wide, mocking grandiosity. “Thorne, king of the maze—” she spits the title like poison “—has planned to take you as queen. Queen. Which means we all must bow to you, and that crown was supposed to be mine! It will be mine. You’re not fit to be queen. You’re scum, you’re nothing. Thorne’s just confused. He needs me to show him, to remind him who the rightful queen really is.”
My heart races, panic bubbling beneath the surface, but I force my shoulders straight, my chin lifted. “A king shouldn’t need to be reminded of who his queen is,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “Seems to me, a queen worth forgetting isn’t a queen at all.”
Nyria’s face darkens, her rage palpable. Behind her, Villina chuckles, the sound breaking through the tension like a crack of thunder. Nyria spins, her icy gaze snapping to her.
“Guards!” she shrieks. The door to Villina’s cell flies open, and Nyria strides in with the grace of a predator ready to pounce.
“No!” I shout, gripping the bars of my cell. “Leave her alone! Please—I’m sorry!”
Nyria’s lips twist into a wicked smile as she faces Villina, her eyes gleaming with malice. “Look at you,” she purrs, her voice dripping with condescension. “Aren’t you a dangerously gorgeous thing? Maybe I should let my men have their way with you.”
She laughs, the sound sharp and cruel, but Villina just smirks, her eyes locked on Nyria with a defiance that makes my stomach clench. “Careful now,” Villina says, her voice raspy but full of venom. “You laid on your back for a king and were forgotten. I lay on my back for your men, and I’ll take over your army.”
Nyria’s smile falters for a moment before she lunges, grabbing Villina by the throat. She slams her head against the cell wall, the sickening thud of bone against stone echoing in the small space. “Mmm,” Nyria hums, her eyes gleaming with sadistic glee. “Let’s just see about that.”
Without warning, she presses her lips to Villina’s, her mouth forcing open Villina’s as shadows, thick and writhing, pour from Nyria’s mouth into Villina’s. Villina’s body convulses as the darkness forces its way down her throat, her neck bulging grotesquely with the foreign invasion. Her eyes widen, pupils blown with terror, and she struggles, shaking violently as the shadows consume her from the inside.
I scream, my voice raw, but it does nothing to stop the horror unfolding in front of me. Villina’s limbs jerk, her body wracked with spasms, until finally, mercifully, she goes limp. The shadows slither from her slack mouth, dripping onto the floor as her head lolls forward, her body hanging lifeless, still bound to the wall.
Nyria steps back, surveying her work with cold satisfaction. “Hmm,” she muses, running a finger along her bottom lip. “Nice, but not enough to take over an army, I’m afraid.”
She turns, stalking toward me, her heels clicking sharply against the stone. I scramble back, my hands shaking, tears streaming down my face as I curl into myself on the cold floor.
“This,” she whispers, her voice soft but filled with venom, “is a queen. This is what a queen does. You,” she sneers, her lips curling in disgust, “could never be that.”
Nyria towers above me, her presence suffocating, her cold smile twisting with sadistic pleasure as she watches me crumble at her feet. She tilts her head, eyes gleaming like a serpent. “I warned Thorne,” she begins, her voice calm but laced with venom, “that letting you go through the maze would weaken us. But he didn’t listen, did he?”
Her voice comes out in a snarl, “Now, he will kneel. He will beg—beg—for your life, and when I take it, he’ll break. He’ll crumble like the weak fool he is, and in that moment, he’ll see who the rightful queen has always been.”
Her lips curl into a wicked smile, the promise of blood and suffering hanging in the air. “He will sit beside me as we rule this maze together. We’ll tear down that little town of yours, and nothing, nothing, will be able to stop us. With you, he could never unlock the true power of this place. You make him weak.”
I shake my head, the tears blurring my vision, but I won’t let them fall. I force myself to meet her eyes. “He won’t kneel to you,” I whisper, my voice shaking but steady. “Not for me. And I can’t wait to see your face when you realize I’m no one. I’m not who you think I am.”
Nyria’s laughter is sharp, biting, like the crack of a whip in the dark. “Oh, how deliciously naive you are,” she mocks, her eyes glinting with cruel amusement.
Her eyes narrow, her lips curling into a twisted smile. “Is that what you think? That you’re nothing?” She laughs softly, the sound cruel and dark. “You’re everything to him, Brielle. Everything. You have been for years.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. Years? What is she saying?
“He’s been obsessed with you, watching you, wanting you,” Nyria continues, her voice a low hiss. “But it’s pathetic, really. The way he clings to the idea of you, believing you’re something more than the fragile little human you are.”
She steps back, her eyes gleaming with a cruel satisfaction as she watches the confusion and horror play out on my face. “You’re right about one thing, though,” she adds, her voice dropping to a cold whisper. “You aren’t anyone special. But you’re his weakness, and that makes you everything I need.”
I can feel the panic rising, but I refuse to let her see it. “No, you’re wrong” I say again, my voice steadier this time. “You’re wrong.”
I hate that her smile spreads wider, her eyes narrowing as she savors my confusion. “I can’t wait to see the look on your face,” she whispers, her voice dripping with malice, “when you realize just how much you mean to him. Right before I carve out your heart and make him watch.”
The blood drains from my face as she steps back, laughing softly. Her cruel, mocking voice fills the air, each word wrapping around me like a noose tightening around my throat. My heart races, panic clawing at me, and I try to conceal it with every inch of my being.. I swallow hard, keeping my eyes locked on hers even as the terror surges within me.
A small fraction of hope warms me as her smile falters for just a moment as she takes in my defiance, but then she shrugs, her expression hardening once more. “Don’t worry, little one. You’ll understand soon enough. I’ll finally have the power to rule the maze; my way. The way it was meant to be ruled.”
She turns, her cloak sweeping behind her as she begins to walk away. “And as for you?” she calls over her shoulder, her voice cold and sharp. “You’ll be forgotten too.”
With that, the door slams shut, Villina’s lifeless body hangs there like a warning, and I can’t breathe. My knees hit the cold stone floor, the impact barely registering through the suffocating weight of guilt. The walls feel like they’re closing in, wet and slick, pulsing with some dark energy I can't explain. I did this. This is my fault.
I shouldn’t be here. I never should’ve stepped foot in this godforsaken maze. What made me think I could? Because Thorne, the King of the Maze, whispered that I could? That I was more than just a girl lost in the chaos of this world? I let him talk me into believing it. And now Villina’s dead.
I curl in on myself, wrapping my arms around my knees, my chest tight with the weight of it all. Every wrong choice, every step I took that led me here, crashes over me like a wave. Alaric…
He warned me. He tried to keep me safe. I thought the guards were there to drag me back, to cage me, to control me, but now… I see it. He was trying to protect me. Protect me from this; this nightmare. From Thorne. From the maze. From Nyria.
And then there’s Thorne… Thorne.
Nyria’s words echo in my head, cruel and sharp. "He's watched you for years." Watched me? Why? How? The idea gnaws at me, twisting something deep inside, and I don’t know whether to feel violated or… something else. My stomach tightens, and I hate that it doesn’t feel like disgust.
What does that even mean? Watched me for years? Why? What could a man like him, a king, want with someone like me?
I’m nothing. I’ve always been nothing. I’m not strong, I’m not powerful, I’m not anything worth watching. I’m just Brielle, struggling to survive, stumbling through life like I’m stumbling through this maze. Why would a king; a king as ruthless and calculating as Thorne, obsess over me?
I squeeze my eyes shut, pressing my forehead to my knees, willing the heat crawling up my spine to go away. He saw me. He’s been watching me. The thought should make my skin crawl, but it doesn’t. Instead, it stirs something deep in the pit of my stomach, something I don’t understand. What did he see in me?
Did he watch me when I was weak, when I was breaking? And still, after all that, he thought I was worthy of his attention, his obsession? The idea of it… it doesn’t make sense. I’m not strong. I’m not powerful. And I’m sure as hell not fit to be anyone’s queen.
I shake my head, trying to clear the fog of confusion and frustration. I don’t understand. Every time someone tells me that I’m meant to stand beside him, I feel like they’re talking about someone else. Someone stronger. Someone who actually deserves to be there.
Not me.