Chapter 8
Ashton
The fabric is too soft. That’s the first thing I notice.
Not in a bad way. Just noticing how wrong it feels.
After so long with tight leather clothes, damp air, blood, dirt, and whatever the hell else the labyrinth decided to throw at us, this feels like stepping into someone else’s life.
Someone who hasn’t fought for every breath lately.
Which is ironic, considering this used to be my life.
Before the labyrinth, luxury was normal.
Silk sheets. Warm rooms. Perfect meals handed to me without a second thought.
I spent centuries surrounded by comfort so constant I stopped seeing it.
But now? Now every polished surface feels strange.
Every soft thing feels borrowed. Like the labyrinth peeled something out of me and left behind someone sharper than the man who entered it.
I glance around the room again. Polished wood. Clean lines. A bed that looks soft as clouds. A fire crackles quietly in the corner, warm and constant instead of wild and unpredictable. And me, standing in the middle of it all like I belong here.
Dark sleeping trousers. A loose linen shirt laced at the throat. Bare feet instead of boots stiff with mud and blood.
I tug slightly at the sleeve, not because it doesn’t fit, but because it fits too well. “Strange,” I mutter.
The mirror across the room throws my reflection back at me. Same face. Same sharp edge. Same smile that usually comes a little too easily. But there’s something else there now.
Before I can decide what that is, there’s a knock at the door.
I don’t even bother asking who it is. “Come in.”
The door opens, and Oberon, Cassius, and Sylvian step inside looking equally exhausted, and freshly cleaned at the same time, dressed in loose sleeping clothes that somehow make the whole situation feel even stranger.
After days of blood, mud, and leather armor, seeing them like this feels oddly intimate.
We just look at each other. Clean. Whole. Alive. It almost feels ridiculous.
“Well,” I say, spreading my arms slightly, “this is a drastic improvement from almost being sliced open like festival meat.”
Oberon huffs out something that might be a laugh. “Barely.”
Cassius leans back against the wall, crossing his arms. “You’re all still talking and not bags of meat, drained of your blood. Nothing matters more than that.”
I drag a hand through my hair. “Next time we find a nice quiet room, I vote we check for ritual sacrifice circles before settling in.”
Oberon huffs first, low and rough, like he’s trying not to.
I lose it a second later, my laugh breaking out sharp and a little too loud, because of course it does.
Sylvian shakes his head, a quiet breath of a laugh slipping out of him, softer but no less real.
Cassius just exhales through his nose at first, like he’s above it…
then even he cracks, a short, dry sound that shouldn’t be funny but is.
And that’s it. It spreads between us, uneven, unpolished, a little unhinged.
“Did you see Oberon’s face when they chained him down?” I add, grinning. “Thought he was going to take the entire cave with him.”
“I would have,” Oberon shoots back, but there’s no real bite to it. “If they hadn’t outnumbered us ten to one.”
“You still tried,” Sylvian says, a note of respect in his voice.
“Of course he did,” I say. “Man’s allergic to backing down.”
“And you’re not?” Cassius asks dryly.
I flash him a grin. “Please. I can back down when it’s logical.”
That earns another quiet laugh, and something shifts. It sneaks up on me, subtle at first. The tension that’s always been there between us… isn’t. We’re standing here, talking like this, like we didn’t spend half our lives trying to outmaneuver each other.
Like we didn’t start this as enemies.
I look between them, and a quiet realization takes root deep inside me. They’re not rivals. Not anymore. They’re something closer to—
“Gods,” I mutter under my breath.
Sylvian glances at me. “What?”
I shake my head once, but I can’t quite stop the small, incredulous smile that pulls at my mouth. “Nothing. Just… didn’t think I’d ever say this.”
Oberon raises a brow. “Say what?”
I look at them again. Really look.
“It feels less like I’m stuck with you,” I say slowly, “and more like I’d be in trouble without you.”
Silence falls for half a second.
“Careful,” Sylvian says, but there’s something almost amused in his voice. “You keep talking like that, and I might think you like us.”
“I absolutely do not,” I say immediately.
Cassius snorts.
Oberon’s smile deepens just slightly.
And that’s when it really clicks. We’re brothers. Not by blood. Not by choice at the start. But something forged anyway. Something real.
No one says anything. We don’t have to. Then, like it’s inevitable, like the conversation was always going to turn this way, it goes to Alette.
“She shouldn’t have survived what she’s been through. Not as a human,” Oberon says quietly.
The shift in tone is immediate. He’s not talking about the cave. He’s talking about everything.
Sylvian nods once. “And yet, she did.”
“With help,” Cassius adds.
I lean back, folding my arms. “From all of us.”
Sylvian’s gaze flicks to Oberon. “The pit.”
I nod. “He kept her safe.”
“One of you would’ve found a way to help her,” Oberon says, but I think he’s proud to have been the one to protect her.
“Maybe,” Sylvian says. “But you were there.”
There’s a pause.
Then Sylvian adds, almost thoughtfully, “The water chamber.”
I let out a breath. “That was all of us.”
“Barely,” Oberon mutters, probably remembering how much he struggled with the tight space.
“But we did it,” I say.
Sylvian shifts slightly. “The merman.”
We all look at Sylvian. He doesn’t elaborate. He doesn’t need to.
I glance at Cassius and say, “You were pretty incredible.”
Cassius shrugs once. “She was in danger.”
“Exactly,” Sylvian says.
Another second passes.
“The fog,” Cassius says.
That one sits differently.
Oberon’s gaze sharpens. “Ashton was alone with her.”
“Yeah,” I say, a little quieter. “Yet another time when I felt strangely helpless since coming here.”
“Still,” Sylvian says, “you kept her alive.”
I exhale slowly, shaking my head. “She kept me alive.”
“She kept us all alive when we were almost sacrificial lambs,” Sylvian says, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.
“Yeah,” I mumble.
Silence again. But this one is different.
It stretches, not uncomfortable, just… heavy with something none of us are saying out loud.
Each of us has stepped in. Each of us has pulled her back from something that would have taken her.
Each of us has been necessary for keeping her safe.
And she? She’s done her fair share of saving us too.
Something inside me tightens slightly as the realization sinks in. We don’t just work together. We fit together. Around her. Necessary components to her safety and happiness.
“She needs all of us, doesn’t she?” I ask.
“We need each other,” Cassius corrects.
The thought should feel wrong. It doesn’t. No one argues it. No one even tries. We all know. It’s there in the way all of us behave when she’s near. How we seem to be better people.
There’s value in it. In all of us. What that means… I have no idea.
“What happens when we leave this place?” I ask before I can stop myself.
All of them stiffen.
Yeah. That’s about what I expected.
I huff out a breath, my back straight. “You know what? Never mind.”
Sylvian glances back at me. “Ashton—”
“No,” I cut him off lightly. “That’s a problem for later.”
“But it will be a problem,” Cassius says softly, but I choose to ignore him.
I grin, a little sharper this time. “If we survive long enough to have those kinds of problems, I’ll consider it a win.”
That earns a quiet reaction from all of them, the tension in the room easing just slightly as they exchange brief glances before their attention returns to me.
“Then we deal with what’s in front of us,” Cassius says.
“Exactly.”
And right now, what’s in front of us is obvious. Alette. Alette. My sweet human. The woman who has stolen my heart.
Looking around the room, I know not every man here has admitted to himself how he truly feels about her, but I don’t want to be held back by the things they’re not brave enough to admit.
Within the labyrinth, we may all be working together, but when this ends, only one of us will end up with her.
We’ve seen in the past what happened when fae royalty from different courts tried to share a woman, after all.
So if one man is going to be picked, I need it to be me.
I couldn’t take another easy breath without her.
I head for the door.
“Where are you going?” Sylvian asks, confusion in his voice.
I glance back over my shoulder. “I just need to talk to Alette alone for a few minutes.”
That’s all it takes. They settle into the chairs around my fire, scotch between them, and I head out the door, knowing this can’t wait any longer. Knowing that I have to tell Alette how I feel. Before it’s too late.
I lift my hand and knock once.
“Come in,” her voice calls out, soft but clear.
I push the door open and step inside, and the world stops.
The air within the room is warm and inviting, filled with the faint scent of the fire crackling in the hearth.
Alette stands near the window, bathed in the warm glow of the firelight, her silhouette framed by the dancing flames.
She’s wearing a thin, white nightgown that makes everything inside of me tense.
The fabric flows around her, elegant and regal, but it’s the way she holds herself that strikes me most. She looks every bit a queen.
“Wow,” I manage to say, though the words feel inadequate. “You look… stunning.”
Her cheeks flush a faint pink, and she glances away, fidgeting slightly with her nightgown. “Thank you,” she says quietly.