Chapter 17 Maze
MAZE
The dream gripped me by the throat, dragging me out of sleep with a violence that felt almost physical. I clawed at the sheets, the taste of ozone and blood still raw on the back of my tongue. My mother’s voice echoed, clear as cold steel, each word slamming against the inside of my skull.
“He’ll use the stone. Your blood activates it. Yours is the key, Maze.”
I woke fighting for air. Panic tightened my chest like a vise.
I shoved myself upright, taking deep breaths to calm myself. My hands shook uncontrollably. I curled them into fists, grinding knuckles against my thighs, trying to force control where I didn’t feel any.
Beside me, Talon woke instantly. His body stilled, wolf sharp beneath the surface. He reached for me, palm catching my wrist with enough pressure to ground me. The golden glint in his eyes locked on my face.
His chest pressed close, heat rolling off him like a shield as he pulled me into a hug. “I got you.”
I tried to shake the dream vision off, but my pulse pounded. Squeezing my eyes shut, I sagged against Talon. My mother’s words rang in my ears. What if she was right? What if that was why Balder took Jessica and drained her of her blood?
My voice scraped rough. “I had a dream or vision or something about my mother warning me about the Severing Stone. It needs Valkyrie blood. That’s how Balder plans to activate it.”
I forced the words through clenched teeth. “He killed Jessica for her blood. Not just her power. He drained her dry because he needed both. Maybe he already has my blood, from when he pretended to be in love with my mother on Vanaheim. Or maybe Jessica’s was enough.”
Talon’s arms tightened around me, holding me steady. His presence filled the room with calm and a sense of home.
He studied my face, mapping every tremor. “You think he’s going to try to use your blood to power the stone?”
I nodded, swallowing the bile at the back of my throat.
“Or Jessica’s. Mother said my blood opened it, but maybe any Valkyrie with a direct bloodline to the Prime could do it.
Balder wouldn’t have risked so much if he had thought he could shortcut the ritual.
He needed her alive long enough to finish the draw.
He didn’t just want her dead. He wanted her emptied. ”
My fingers flexed, nails biting into my skin. The shakes had gotten worse, not better. I tried to steady myself, tried to pull in the Command of Will, but the memory of Jessica’s body and my mother’s voice tangled together in a knot I couldn’t cut.
“What if he’s using her blood now to track or find the stone? Or worse, what if he’s building a way to break all our bonds—kill the line, then use our own essence against us?”
The possibility hollowed my chest.
Talon’s hand closed over mine, forcing my fist to unclench. He drew my wrist to his mouth, pressing his lips to my pulse until the wild beat steadied under his touch. “We won’t let him win.”
He fixed his gaze on mine. “But you’re right. He prepared for this. He’s probably already using Jessica’s blood in his ritual.”
I breathed in slowly. My body ached for control, but the tremor in my hands wouldn’t stop. I hated the weakness. I hated I couldn’t think of Jessica without seeing her on the slab, drained, her power wasted.
Talon read every inch of my reaction. He reached up, tucking stray hair behind my ear. “Maze, we’re going to end this. But you need to focus.”
My pride wanted to snap at him, to push him away and barricade myself behind the old walls. But his voice had a gravity that pulled me back in. I stared at his jaw, the set of his shoulders, the way he watched me like nothing else mattered.
It pulled something loose in my chest.
The air between us thickened as the fear gave way to anger, and under that, the raw want to not feel helpless ever again. I clung to his wrist, letting him absorb the worst of the trembling.
Then Talon shifted tactics. He flattened me back against the mattress, pinning both my hands above my head. His mouth crashed onto mine, destroying any chance of panic taking root.
The kiss didn’t ask permission. It devoured. He stole every breath, forcing sensation in the place where anxiety lived. His body pressed over mine, hard and alive, the heat of him searing away the chill from my nightmare.
I tried to fight him, to hold my ground, but he didn’t let up. He swallowed my protests, grinding his hips into mine until I gasped against his mouth. My pulse tripped into a new rhythm, frantic for a different reason.
He drew his lips down my neck, biting at the base, then licking the sting away. My head fell back, exposing the column of my throat, and he pressed his mouth there, teeth scraping, tongue following the throb of my racing pulse.
His hands gripped my wrists, pinning them to the pillow. The tightness of his hold sent spikes of need through me.
He lifted his head and held my gaze. “Let me take it away. Let me make you forget.”
I wanted to tell him I didn’t need that—not really. But the truth was, I wanted more. I wanted the brutal, mindless edge of pleasure to wipe out every shard of fear.
I nodded once, sharply.
Talon let go of my wrists only to strip the shirt from my body. He kissed his way down my sternum, pausing to bite at both nipples, drawing a whimper from deep in my chest. His hands flattened over my ribs, holding me in place as he claimed every inch of naked skin.
He worshipped with his mouth, working lower, savoring the slow descent. When he reached my stomach, he nipped at the flesh above my navel, then bit harder at my hip bone, marking the skin there.
I parted my legs for him, and he dropped between my thighs, spreading them wider with his hands. His mouth hovered over my entrance, breath hot against slick flesh. He met my eyes once—a warning, a promise—before he dragged his tongue over my sex.
The jolt ripped through me. I moaned, back arching off the bed. Talon didn’t slow. He licked and sucked, tongue relentless, fingers digging into my hips to hold me still.
He knew how to use his mouth. Each flick and press forced the pleasure higher, washing away everything else. My hands fisted in his hair, holding him tighter, begging without words for him not to stop.
He flattened his tongue and drew slow, rough circles, then sucked my clit until I shattered. The orgasm hit hard, body convulsing against his face. He kept going, never easing up. He drew out every last spasm, his growl vibrating against my most sensitive skin.
I lost track of time. There was only sensation, only shockwave after shockwave as he wrung me inside out.
When he finally came up for air and locked eyes with me, I saw his wolf in his amber depths.
He slid up my body, biting the soft skin between my breasts. The marks he left would stay for days—a reminder of this, of him.
He lined himself up, the thick, hot length brushing my entrance. He waited, one hand cradling my face, thumb stroking my cheek with surprising gentleness.
“You’re with me,” he said. “Right here. Now.”
I locked my legs around his waist, dragging him in. He entered me in one slow, brutal thrust, filling me. I groaned. The stretch was perfect, pain edged with pleasure.
He set a rhythm, hard and deep, grinding our bodies together. Each stroke punched the air from my lungs, every thrust driving me further from the echo of the nightmare.
He held my face, making me watch his eyes. The gold burned there, fierce.
He fucked me like he meant to erase every other memory I’d ever had. I loved everything about it. Everything about him.
His hand snaked between us, thumb circling over my clit, working me higher. The second orgasm crashed over me, harder than the first. I screamed his name.
He didn’t slow, pounding his hips into me, taking all of me and giving nothing back to the dark. The world narrowed to sweaty skin and desperate breath.
I clawed at his back, drawing a half-groan, half-growl out of him. He buried his face in the curve of my neck. When the climax caught him, he slammed into me and held, cock twitching inside as he spilled everything he had. I clenched around him, milking every drop.
We stayed tangled, bodies slick with sweat, hearts beating wild in tandem. For a long time, nothing else existed. No blood rituals. No echoing voices in the dark. Just the weight of him, the pulse of heat in my core, the slow return of breath to my lungs.
Talon stroked my hair, pressing soft kisses across my jaw and down my neck. His hands never left my skin. He stayed inside me, warm and thick, until the aftershocks faded.
When he finally loosened his grip, he rolled us to our sides, keeping me pulled tight against his chest. He tucked my head under his chin, thumb brushing the line of my jaw.
I lay there, letting the silence settle.
No dreams chased me. No memories stung. Only the slow, inevitable shift from panic back to the possibility that maybe we could still win. No. We will win.
Talon’s heartbeat slowed. Mine followed. I focused on the simple, grounding pleasure of his arms around me as he ran a hand up and down my spine.
After another few minutes, Talon said, “We should get up and meet the team.”
“I need a shower and food first.”
He laughed. “That can be arranged. Then he got out of bed and lifted me in his arms with one arm under my knees and the other supporting my back.
After setting me on the bathroom counter, he turned the shower on full blast. Steam filled the air, curling around the edges of the glass until the world outside the two of us vanished.
Talon nudged me under the spray first, water pelting my skin hot enough to sting.
He followed, crowding me with the length of his body, while he found the bottle of body wash.