13. Chapter 13
thirteen
B rielle
Walking through what I now know is the Abyssal Quadrant feels like I’m trapped in an endless loop. The ground beneath my feet is uneven, littered with stones that threaten to trip me at every turn. I’m disoriented, exhausted, and my stomach growls with a hunger that gnaws at my insides.
Villina remains at my side, her presence both a comfort and a source of anxiety. The first night we set up camp, sleep eluded me as I lay wide awake, hyper-aware of the cool touch of her blade against my neck. That lingering memory still sends a chill through me. As we approach yet another wall, Villina abruptly stops, frustration etched across her face. She tilts her head back, looking up at the sky, as if it holds the answers we desperately seek.
“This is starting to piss me off,” she mutters, her voice low and irritated. With a resigned sigh, she slides down to the ground, her back pressed against the cold stone. I find a place opposite her, mirroring her posture against the wall.
“Well, we could go back and take the other way,” I suggest, trying to keep my voice steady despite the growing dread in my gut.
She shakes her head, a frustrated look in her eyes. “The other way will only lead us in circles. The Maze has definitely changed.”
My heart sinks at her words. “How is that even possible?”
Villina pulls out a flask that looks like it’s crafted from ivory or perhaps bone. She takes a long sip before handing it to me. “Here. You look like you could use it.”
I eye the flask warily. “I think I’ve shown you I wouldn’t take the coward’s way—like poison—to kill you if I wanted you dead. Drink the damn water,” she insists, her tone firm.
Reluctantly, I take the flask from her and bring it to my lips. The water inside is surprisingly cold, refreshing against my parched throat, and I find myself gulping it down eagerly. When I hand it back, the chilling realization of our situation sinks in deeper, tightening around my chest.
“Why me? Why does he hate me so much?” I ask, frustration bubbling over. “It’s his fault I’m in here. He took Henry and then sent his stupid bird to tell me to come fetch him. I don’t understand what I could have done to make him want to harm me so much.” Leaning my head back against the stone wall, I close my eyes, trying to find a semblance of calm.
Villina snickers, her amusement cutting through the silence like a knife. “Odd you should say that,” she replies, taking another sip from her flask.
“What’s so odd about it?” I snap, irritation flaring.
She grins, a sinister curve of her lips “I’ve heard tales; tales of lovesick King Thorne pining over a woman he can never have. Never taking a queen because his heart belongs to another.” She rolls her eyes, her disdain palpable. “Quite pathetic if you ask me.”
I shake my head, confusion swirling in my mind. “What does that have to do with me? I’m no one.”
Her smile widens, revealing the sharpness of her cunning nature. “You don’t find it odd that he takes your husband—what’s his name? Henry—only to have a self-proclaimed nobody like you come to fetch him? Why else would he want your husband out of the way and you trapped in his maze? Gods, do I really have to spell all that out for you?”
I hesitate, grappling with the implications of her words. “No, that’s not right. He can’t want me. He doesn’t even know me! I’ve never stepped foot in this maze in all my life.”
Villina shrugs, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Maybe that’s the point. You’ve never been here, and yet here you are. Perhaps he sees something in you he wants.”
"No," I muttered, shaking my head in disbelief. "That’s not me. It can’t be."
Villina shrugs again, her grin widening, as if she knew something I didn’t. "Well, you know how tales are, Brielle. Most of them are bullshit, right?"
I wanted to argue, but my thoughts spiraled as she stood up, leaving me momentarily rooted in place. He had called me a she-wolf, claiming he saw within me strengths I had yet to recognize. Could it be that I was the object of his pining, the very woman from the tale Villina had recounted? The thought sent a jolt of confusion through me. Was I merely a plaything for his twisted amusement, or could I truly be something more, someone he desired? I shook my head to dispel the idea, but the warmth spreading in my stomach betrayed me, igniting a mix of hope and fear that I couldn't fully grasp. I don’t notice when she stops abruptly as I run into her back. She is like one of the walls of this maze, unmoved by my body running into hers.
Staring at the massive wall that had appeared out of nowhere, blocking our path, her expression shifts from irritation to suspicion. "This... wasn’t like this before," she mutters, reaching instinctively for her weapon. "This is definitely not good.”
A loud caw echoed above us, causing both of us to jerk our heads skyward. The crow hovered, its dark silhouette stark against the gray sky, and as it did, the walls on either side began to shift and reshape, revealing a new path that we are compelled to take. With a sudden flutter, the crow dropped something shiny at my feet before landing on the jagged stone beside me. It stared directly into my eyes, its head tilting back and forth in an almost inquisitive manner.
Villina glanced between me and the crow, confusion etched on her face. I bent down to retrieve the object, discovering a dark obsidian dagger glinting in the dim light. But as my fingers closed around the hilt, a voice invaded my thoughts.
“Brielle.”
It was his voice—the Maze King’s—but it lacked the familiar taunting tone. Instead, it flowed through my mind like a warm breath, filling the air with an urgency that felt almost gentle. Villina’s earlier words swirled alongside his voice, causing a knot to tighten in my chest. I am not the one he pines for; I am just a plaything to him. Why else would he be changing the maze?
“What do you want? Upset you haven’t killed me yet?” I snapped, anger flaring as I met the crow’s gaze.
Villina shot me a bewildered look. “It’s him—The Maze King! He’s talking to me through the crow.” She pressed her palm to my forehead, her brow furrowed. “I think you’ve lost it or come down with a fever.”
The crow cawed in protest, flapping its wings as if to fend her off.
“What are you doing? Who are you speaking to? Where are you, Brielle?” His voice trembled with a note of fear that I had never heard before.
“Why should I tell you? You keep changing the maze on me. How is that fair? You want me to play your game, but you are cheating! I—”
“Brielle, I need you to—”
I cut him off, my frustration bubbling over. “You are an evil man for making me run in circles. You have no—”
“Damn it, woman! Would you shut that mouth of yours for a moment?” His voice thundered in my mind, cutting through my thoughts like a knife.
Silence enveloped me for a moment before he spoke again, his tone softening to something almost pleading. “Please.”
The sweetness of his voice caught me off guard, making my heart skip. I felt the tension ease just a fraction, and it pulled my full attention back to him.
“Fine, speak then. Tell me why you’re torturing me.” I relented, curiosity edging out my anger.
His loud sigh reverberates through my mind, "Brielle, I need you to tell me where you are. Things are happening now that are beyond my control. I need to find you."
I stare at the crow, my brows furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean, 'out of your control'?" I ask aloud, the crow’s dark eyes watching me closely as if waiting for something.
Villina catches my words and tosses her hands up in frustration. “What do you mean out of his control? He’s the king!” she exclaims.
I shrug, waiting for him to elaborate. His silence stretches for a moment before he finally responds, a thread of annoyance threading back into his voice. “I can’t go into details right now. Just... describe where you are.”
The return of his irritation oddly soothes me. Annoyed King Thorne, I can handle. Secretly in love with me King Thorne? Not so much.
“I’m not entirely sure," I admit, glancing around at the looming walls. "I think we’re still in the Abyssal Quadrant, but everything keeps shifting into dead ends. The maze wall just opened up again, and it’s forcing us down this path. It’s really dark, I—"
Villina cuts me off with a sharp laugh. “Oh, well, this is interesting. Tell lover boy we’re about to walk into the North." She shudders, her bravado faltering, and her reaction makes my stomach twist.
“The path is forcing us toward the North Quadrant,” I relay to him hesitantly.
His response is immediate and filled with urgency. “No, Brielle. Listen to me, do not go there. Turn around. Now.”
Before I can question him, a low, guttural growl rumbles through the darkness ahead of us. The maze walls groan and creak, shifting again, the sound grinding through the air as if the stone itself were alive. The path behind us is sealing shut, forcing us forward, trapping us in its relentless grip. The crow hovers above me, wings beating frantically.
Panic grips me “It’s moving... what do we do?” My voice wavers, breath shallow, and I can feel the oppressive weight of the maze pushing us toward something unknown. Fear swells inside me, choking the air from my lungs.
Then, his voice slips into my mind, soft but with an edge, as if he’s holding something back. “Brielle, breathe. Please, just breathe. You’ve come so far... don’t let fear take you now.” There's an urgency in his tone that I've never heard before, and it hits me deep, twisting something in my chest. “I need you. You’re stronger than you know, stronger than even you believe. You’ve always been.”
I cling to his words, but there’s something darker underneath them; something desperate, afraid. It’s not just for me, but for him too. He’s scared.
“Thorne...” The name slips from my lips, soft, fragile—so unlike the fear pounding in my chest. I hadn’t even realized I’d said it out loud until the echo of it fades. It feels strange to say his name without the weight of the title, King, but in this moment, the maze, the danger... it feels like all that power means nothing.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear that,” his voice whispers through my mind, What does he mean?
I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes. Everything is spinning around me, his words, the shifting walls, the looming shadows. The truth in his voice stirs deep inside me, but I can’t focus on it. Not now.
“I don’t understand...” I manage to whisper, shaking my head. My hand tightens on the dagger, its cold, rough surface grounding me. "Why me?”
There’s a brief pause, and I can feel his presence, pressing against my thoughts as if he’s standing right behind me. “I sent you the dagger for a reason,” Thorne says, his voice rougher, more strained, as if he’s fighting something. The calm he’s always held in our strange, mental conversations is slipping, his control fraying, letting raw emotion creep in.
"I’ve seen what you’ve been through. I’ve watched you endure. I’ve seen the fire in you—the one no one else sees." His voice drops lower, and I can almost feel the weight of his words like a touch on my skin. “You’re not just some pawn in this maze, Brielle. You’re the one I’ve been waiting for.”
The words slam into me, knocking the air from my lungs. The one he’s been waiting for? My heart races, my mind spinning as I try to make sense of it all. Why would he wait for me? I’m no one, just a woman.
“Do you think I would have let anyone else live this long in here?” he continues, and there’s something darker in his voice now, possessive. “You don’t even realize it yet, do you? How important you are to me. How much I need you alive.” His voice trembles on the last word, the desperation thickening. “I can’t lose you. Not now. Not after everything.”
My heart pounds, each beat heavy with the weight of his words. His fear, his longing, it wraps around me, pulling me in.
“I’ll tear this maze apart to get to you if I have to,” he growls, the darkness in his tone making my stomach twist. “But you have to survive this. You have to fight your way through.”
My grip tightens on the obsidian dagger, the weight of it grounding me. I feel his fear bleed into mine, our panic intertwined. His voice is no longer the taunting king who lured me here; there’s something raw and almost... broken in him.
“Why, Thorne?” I ask, my voice barely more than a whisper, but I need to know. *“Why do you care?”
He’s silent for a moment, and when he speaks again, it’s lower, darker, laced with something almost painful. “Because you’re mine, Brielle. You’ve always been mine.”
His words shock me, leaving me standing in the shadow of his need, his obsession.
"Now fight," he murmurs, his voice a caress, "Fight your way to me, or I'll tear apart this maze and everyone in it to get to you.”
I swallow hard, gripping the dagger tighter. The walls shift again, but I’m no longer just running from the maze; I’m running toward him. Toward whatever this twisted, dark connection between us has become.
And for the first time, I’m not sure which scares me more—the maze, or him.
Villina’s eyes darted around, and I could see the tension in her body as she prepared for whatever was coming.
Something moved, a blur of darkness at first, but then another growl, closer this time. Shadehounds. My heart pounded as their massive forms emerged from the shadows, claws scraping against stone, their hungry eyes locked onto us.
"We need to move," Villina hissed, backing up, her gaze scanning the fog. "Now."
But it was too late. The first hound lunged toward us, its powerful body hurtling through the air. Without thinking, I lunged to the side, slashing my dagger through the air. The blade connected with the beast’s side, and it howled in fury, staggering before crashing to the ground. Villina was already moving, her sword slicing cleanly through another hound’s throat, but more were coming; too many of them.
I didn’t have time to be afraid. I fought on instinct, ducking and weaving as the beasts charged from all sides. My heart raced, my blood pumping with an adrenaline I had never felt before. The Maze King called me his she-wolf, and maybe he was right. I felt it now; a fierce determination to survive. Villina fought like a demon beside me, her blade flashing through the fog with deadly precision.
A large hound leaped toward me, and for a split second, I saw its teeth coming for my throat. But I was faster. I dropped to the ground, rolling under its massive body, and drove my blade up into its belly. Blood sprayed as the creature let out a final, desperate howl before collapsing. As quickly as they had come, the hounds retreated into the shadows, leaving behind only the echoes of their growls. Silence fell, broken only by our heavy breathing.
I stood there for a moment, drenched in blood and adrenaline, my chest heaving. Villina wiped her blade clean on her sleeve, shooting me a sideways glance.
Her eyes met mine, both of us shaken but refusing to show it. My hand trembled around the obsidian dagger, the weight of it a reminder of the blood I'd just spilled.
"Those things are getting faster," Villina muttered, wiping her blade clean, but her tone held a hint of fear, maybe, though she’d never admit it.
I nodded, still trying to catch my breath. Thorne’s voice had been silent in my head for a few minutes now, but his words still echoed, I can’t lose you. Not now. Not after everything.
A slow, mocking clap echoed through the space, and my blood ran cold. Out of the shadows, a woman stepped forward, her features sharp and beautiful in a terrifying way. She wore a flowing dark gown.
Her eyes, cold, calculating, locked onto mine as her hands continued to clap, the sound reverberating off the stone walls.
"Quite the show," she said, her voice dripping with amusement. "I didn’t expect that much fight from you." She stopped clapping and tilted her head, her lips curving into a wicked smile. Villina stiffened beside me, her hand already halfway to her sword.
I swallowed, my heart pounding. "Who are you?"
The woman’s smile widened, cruel and full of malice. "Your queen. Your captor. Your executioner. Call me whatever you like."
Villina scoffed, stepping forward, her voice full of venom. "How about evil bitch?"
The woman’s smile faltered, her eyes narrowing as fury flickered in her gaze. "Seize them," she hissed to the men that stepped out from the shadows around her.
At her command, several figures emerged; tall, armored men, their helmets obscuring their faces. They moved in, surrounding us with eerie precision. I raised my dagger, heart racing, and Villina readied herself beside me. One of them came for her, reaching out with a gauntleted hand. She moved like lightning, kicking him square in the head. His helmet went flying, clattering across the stone floor. But there was no man beneath the armor. Instead, a swirling, dark, menacing shadow filled the space where his face should have been, black smoke twisting and writhing. A chill swept through me, my blood turning to ice.
"What the—" Villina gasped, horror flashing across her face.
I took a step back, but there was nowhere to go. The shadow figures moved closer, their forms rippling with dark energy. The air around us thickened with an unnatural, suffocating dread. Panic clawed at me. My mind reached out, desperately, frantically searching for Thorne.
Thorne. Please... if you can hear me, I need you. We need you .
The shadows closed in, their cold, clawed hands reaching for us, and the last thing I felt was the crushing weight of dread as we were taken.
Gods... Thorne, please.