Chapter 19
Alette
I’m jolted awake from a dreamless sleep, my heart pounding, overcome by a need to run. To hide. The remnants of sleep cling to my mind like cobwebs, but as I blink open my eyes, I feel goosebumps roll down my spine.
Something’s wrong. But what?
I scan the dimly lit space around me, watching as shadows dance across the labyrinth hedges like phantoms. The fire has long since died down, leaving behind only the faintest glow. All it does is illuminate just enough of the clearing we’re in to make everything look eerie and frightening.
Ashton lies near me, his steady breathing, and that of the others, the only sound in the otherwise silent night.
It should bring me comfort, the soothing rhythm, but instead, it only heightens my unease.
I can’t shake the unsettling sensation that something is nearby, lurking just beyond the edge of the firelight, and that I’m the only one awake and aware of the coming danger.
I creep over to Ashton, my body tense as I scan the darkness. I don’t want to wake him if it’s nothing, but the feeling gnaws at me, impossible to ignore. The truth is, I’ll feel silly if it’s nothing, but I can’t just pretend I’m not feeling anything.
"Ashton," I whisper softly, gently shaking his shoulder, my voice barely louder than a breath, heavy with anxiety.
He stirs, blinking against the darkness. "Alette?" he murmurs, his voice low and thick with sleep. It’s pleasant in a strange way.
The warmth of his gaze makes my heart race faster, but I try to ignore my reaction to him. “I think something–”
Before I can explain further, he pulls me closer into the blankets with him.
A soft yelp escapes my lips and then, he’s all around me.
His warmth envelops me like a safety net.
His much larger body presses against mine, every hard muscle seeming to strain beneath his clothes in a way that has my thoughts going wild.
Ashton is a big man. A powerful man. If there’s danger, he’ll be able to handle it.
"Ashton—" I start, but he interrupts, pulling me in for a kiss.
His lips crash against mine with a sudden urgency that takes my breath away.
The world disappears, and I find myself lost in the connection, the warmth of his skin against mine, the pressure of his lips.
The way my body seems to heat up in response to his own, and the unexpected need that shoots through me.
I’ve never felt a need like this before.
Is this what it’s like to kiss a man?
But just as I’m about to lose myself in his touch, something shifts at the edge of my awareness, a stirring in the shadows that makes my heart drop. Wait. I internally shake myself. This isn’t why I woke Ashton up.
I pull back abruptly, panic creeping in. "Wait," I whisper, as I struggle to regain my focus. "There’s something out there. Something’s wrong."
His body goes stiff as his eyes scan the dark, his playful warmth gone, replaced by a warrior’s spirit.
I sit up, my hand instinctively reaching for my dagger, the warm bone reassuring against my palm.
We both climb to our feet slowly. Ashton grabs his sword and pulls it free of its sheath, and the sharp blade gleams in the dim light as he prepares for whatever may come.
A flicker of movement catches my eye again, a shape just beyond the fire’s reach.
"Did you see that?" I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
"Stay behind me," Ashton murmurs, his eyes scanning the shadows, his voice low and commanding.
There’s a tension in the way he holds himself, a protectiveness that I haven’t seen before in the flirtatious fae. Maybe these kings aren’t all just men who surround themselves with pretty things. Maybe something in life has taught them how to fight too.
I try to follow his gaze, straining to see what lurks beyond the firelight. For a second there’s nothing, and then, a figure seems to materialize out of thin air.
He doesn’t step forward. Doesn’t breathe. Doesn’t move at all.
As I study him, my stomach turns. He’s… wrong.
His form is translucent, his body flickering faintly, as if he exists only partially in this world.
Ancient armor clings to his frame, dented and split, etched with symbols I don’t recognize.
The metal glints faintly in the dying firelight, but it looks dulled by time.
By decay. By something far worse than either.
His skin is pale. Too pale. The color of old bone. And his eyes are empty—not blind, empty. They’re just hollow voids where something once lived.
Cold floods my veins. I blink hard, my breath catching as I struggle to make sense of what I’m seeing. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t exist at all.
“Is he—?” I whisper, my voice trembling.
Ashton wordlessly nods.
The warrior moves. Not with the smooth motion of the living, but in a jerking, unnatural shift, as if he’s being pulled forward by invisible strings.
His head tilts slowly. Too slowly. The motion is wrong, delayed, like something remembering how bodies are supposed to move but failing to do it properly.
His gaze locks onto mine. And I know that he sees me, even without eyes. Not my body, but me.
The air grows colder. Heavy. Oppressive. The fire behind us dims further, its weak flames shrinking, as though even it fears him. Then he raises his hand, and the movement is stiff. Stuttering.
His arm flickers as it lifts, parts of it fading in and out of existence, the edges of his form unraveling like smoke caught in wind. When he speaks, the sound doesn’t come from his mouth. It comes from everywhere. From the walls. From the ground. From inside my skull.
“Turn back,” he warns.
His voice is not one voice, but many layered together. Some deep. Some broken. Some screaming beneath the surface. It echoes endlessly, overlapping itself in a way that makes my stomach twist.
“Turn back, or you will never survive.” His jaw opens wider than it should. The sound that follows is wrong. Warped. As if something inside him is forcing the words out. “Terrible things lie ahead.”
His form flickers violently. “You will not make it out alive.”
The last word stretches unnaturally, echoing through the air long after his mouth stops moving.
Alive.
Alive.
Alive.
The labyrinth itself seems to breathe with him, and I know, with absolute certainty, that this is not simply a ghost. This is something trapped. Something broken. Something that never escaped this horrible place, but wants to.
The warrior’s eyes flicker. Then his body begins to unravel.
It doesn’t fade, it breaks. His form fractures violently, his outline splintering apart as though something inside him is tearing free.
His armor collapses inward, his limbs splintering into black shapes that explode outward in a violent burst.
Bats. Hundreds of them. They erupt from him in a violent storm of wings and teeth.
I scream as they descend on us.
They come fast. Faster than I’d think possible.
Their bodies slam into me, claws scraping across my skin, wings tangling in my hair, their shrieks piercing my ears. Their tiny bodies are cold. Wrong. Their wings feel like dried leather against my face.
They crawl all over me. Almost through me. Like they’re trying to find their way inside.
Panic consumes me. I swing wildly with my dagger, trying to fight them off, but there are too many of them. Their wings beat against my eyes, my mouth, my throat. I can’t see. Can’t breathe.
“Get back!” Ashton shouts.
His arm wraps around me, crushing me against his chest. Then the wind comes.
Violent. Sharp. Controlled. It explodes outward from him in a powerful surge, tearing through the swarm.
The bats shriek, their bodies ripped away by the force, scattering violently into the darkness.
One by one, they vanish, until nothing remains.
No bats. No warrior. No sound. Only silence. Thick. Heavy. Watching.
"What the hell was that?" I gasp, my voice trembling.
The fae kings are all standing at the ready in the darkness, weapons drawn, their expressions grim.
“It was a ghost,” Ashton explains. “A fae warrior sent to warn us about what’s coming for us.”
"He must have been one of the fae warriors who tried to complete the labyrinth," Oberon says, and there’s a note of sadness in his voice. "He likely gave his life for our people."
Cassius looks at the ground, his expression hard to read. "I had hoped that the worst thing our warriors would face was death. It seems that some have had even worse fates."
I swallow hard, unease crawling under my skin. "I didn’t know there were fates worse than death."
There’s a long moment of silence as that sinks in for all of us.
"It’s sad, but this doesn’t change anything," Oberon says, his voice sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. "We have to do this. We have no other option."
My pulse is still racing, and I can’t shake the feeling of the warrior’s eerie warning, the memory of his words echoing in my mind like a grim prophecy. Something terrible waits for us, lurking in the shadows, and I can feel it.
“Are you alright?” Ashton asks quietly, his hand brushing against my arm.
I nod, though the unease still churns in my stomach. “I’m fine. Just... just shaken.” My voice falters slightly, a crack in my facade that I can’t quite mask.
Oberon speaks, his voice heavy with authority. "No doubt, we’ll find more like him, Alette. More of these lost souls, trapped here for eternity. This labyrinth will try to break us, but we can’t let it."
For a moment, I wonder if this was a mistake, if stepping into the labyrinth was the wrong choice. What if we can’t make it through? What if we don’t survive? Maybe I should’ve tried to escape harder. Maybe I should’ve run when I could.
I push those thoughts aside, because they won’t help me now. We have no choice but to keep moving forward. There is no other option.
“Let’s get back to bed,” Sylvian says gently, coming to stand just in front of me. “Do you want me to lay with you?”
“She can lay with me.” And there’s a challenge in Ashton’s voice.
I take a step back from both of them, inching toward my blankets. “It’s okay. I can sleep alone.”
They exchange an angry glance, but neither follows me when I return to my blankets, which I’m grateful for.
I have enough to worry about without having their hard bodies against me all night long, distracting me from sleep.
The fae woman had warned me about them, and my first kiss or not, I wouldn’t forget her warning.
“Sleep,” Oberon commands. “Morning will come soon enough.”