Chapter 13
Alette
The rain falls straight down through the open center of the chamber, unbroken by roof or beam, spilling from the gray sky above into the garden below. The space isn’t ruined. It’s meant to be this way, even though I’ve never seen anything like this before in my life.
A vast inner courtyard carved into the heart of the upper floor, its edges lined with smooth stone walkways that circle the open center like a quiet perimeter.
We keep to those paths, sheltered just enough by the overhanging walls to avoid the worst of the storm, while the garden itself drinks in every drop.
Water gathers below in darkened soil and shallow pools, the earth soft and glistening as vines climb the inner walls and trees stretch upward toward the open sky. Their leaves shudder beneath the constant rain, catching the light in flashes of silver and green.
The sound is constant. Rain striking stone. Rain soaking into earth. A soft, repeating cadence carried through the surrounding walls. It should feel exposed. Instead, it feels… contained. Like the storm has been invited in, given a place to exist without touching the rest of the castle.
I trail my fingers along the leaves of a vine creeping up the inner wall as we pass, the surface slick beneath my touch, cool and alive despite everything.
The garden is overgrown in places, untamed but not neglected, as if it’s been allowed to thrive on its own terms. It’s beautiful, both wild and resilient.
Above us, lightning fractures the sky, followed by the distant roll of thunder, but down here, the sound softens, absorbed by stone and soil and growing things. The air is thick with it. The scent of wet earth, crushed leaves, and something faintly sweet blooming beneath it all.
Alive. That’s what it feels like. Alive in a way the rest of the labyrinth isn’t.
For a moment, walking the edge of it, listening to the rain fall into the open heart of the castle, it almost feels like a sanctuary. Almost.
The men keep close as we walk, their presence forming a quiet barrier against the chill. Oberon is nearest, the heat of him a striking contrast to the cool air. When his hand finds mine, the rough brush of his fingers is unhurried, deliberate.
I glance up at him, my pulse quickening before I can stop it. He doesn’t let go. If anything, his grip tightens slightly, his thumb dragging slowly across the inside of my wrist, like he’s memorizing the feel of me.
“You’re quiet this morning,” he murmurs, his voice low, rougher than usual.
I smile faintly. After last night, I don’t even know what to say. “Just taking it all in.”
His gaze lingers on me a second too long.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he adds under his breath, so quiet I almost miss it.
The breath leaves me in a quiet rush. I don’t know how to respond to that. I’m not even sure what he means.
Ashton sidles up on my other side, grinning as he plucks a ripe berry from a low-hanging branch. “Careful, little human. Don’t let the melancholy get to you. I feel like this place has a way of creeping into your thoughts.” Then, he tosses the berry into his mouth.
His teasing tone pulls a laugh from me.
“She’s stronger than that,” Sylvian interjects from behind, his tone light but certain. He steps closer, brushing a stray leaf from my shoulder, his touch gentle.
Cassius lingers a few steps away, inspecting a row of small, pale fruits that hang just out of reach. His expression is unreadable, but when he catches me looking, he offers a soft smile, one that sends a quiet ripple through me.
And still, Oberon doesn’t move away. If anything, he shifts closer behind me as we walk, his chest brushing my back for a fleeting second before his hand slides from mine to my arm. His fingers trail slowly down it. Not accidental. Not light. Intentional.
My breath stutters.
“Do you know how much I want you?” he murmurs, his voice barely more than a breath against my ear.
Heat floods my face. I don’t. I don’t know what to do with that.
The energy between us is different today, charged in a way that makes my heart race. They’re all close, their touches lingering, their words edged with something deeper.
It’s overwhelming.
And intoxicating.
Ashton plucks another berry, holding it up to my lips. “Taste it, it’s an Emberberry,” he urges, his voice softer now.
I hesitate, then lean forward, letting him feed it to me. His fingers brush my lips as I take it, lingering just a second too long. The sweetness bursts across my tongue, sharp and bright, and I gasp softly.
“Delicious,” I say, though my voice comes out thinner than I expect.
Oberon watches the exchange, something tightening in his expression. Not anger. Something hotter and sharper.
When we stop near a patch of wild vegetables, he steps in again, closer than before, his presence overwhelming in the confined space.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he mutters, the words rough, strained.
My heart pounds.
I turn slightly toward him, unsure, caught somewhere between curiosity and something I don’t have a name for yet. Before I can say anything, his hand closes around my wrist. Firm and decisive.
“I can’t wait any longer,” he says, low and final.
And then he’s pulling me with him. Out of the garden. Ashton lets out a low, knowing laugh but doesn’t follow. Cassius and Sylvian exchange a glance, something unspoken passing between them. But they let us go.
He drags me down the hall like we’re being chased, but I don’t laugh. I know what he wants, because I want it too. I want to touch him. Taste him. Have him inside of me.
We enter my bedroom without a word. The moment the door closes behind us, he’s on me. His hands are everywhere, sliding up my sides, tangling in my hair. He kisses me with a ferocity that steals my breath, pressing me against the cold stone wall.
My hands find his shoulders, clutching at him as if he’s the only solid thing in a world spinning too fast. His kiss is demanding, a hunger that feels all-consuming, yet beneath it all, there’s a tenderness that tugs at my heartstrings.
“You drive me crazy,” he mutters against my lips, his voice thick with desperation.
I don’t have time to respond before his mouth is on mine again, and words feel unnecessary anyway. The storm outside is nothing compared to the one building between us. His movements are overwhelming, possessive.
He undoes his pants. My hands move down and wrap around him.
“Fuck!” he shouts, pounding his fist against the stone. His eyes are ablaze as he looks down at me. “I want your lips around me.”
My lungs seize around a startled breath. “My lips?”
He leans closer, his eyes darkening. “I want you on your knees. I want you with your mouth sucking my cock. I want you to taste like me all day. Every time you kiss me, I want to taste myself.”
I swallow. Hard.
The others were right. Oberon isn’t gentle. Isn’t slow. But somehow, he turns me on. He makes me feel wet and hot all at the same time.
Dropping to my knees, I stare at the sheer size of the man in front of me. There’s no way his length is going to fit inside me, but I know I’m going to try.
I flick my tongue out, lapping at his tip. He bangs his hand against the wall again, which I take as a good sign. Then, I lean forward and take just his tip inside my mouth and suck. His hand comes to curl around my head, and he rocks into me. Deeper and deeper.
He groans, and his grip tightens. “Alette. Oh, fucking gods, Alette.”
I know I’m soaking my underwear. There’s no way I can’t be. Seeing him like this. Feeling him like this. Knowing I’m turning him on… it satisfies some part of me I never even knew was there.
He pushes me further and further onto his cock until the tip of him hits the back of my throat. I gag a little, his sweet, salty taste feeling my mouth, but he pushes in deeper. And then… he’s pounding in and out of me. His hand tangled in my hair, keeping me in place.
I try to suck him every time he thrusts, but I have no clue what I’m doing. All I’m sure of is that he likes it. Suddenly, his whole body tenses, and then he explodes into my mouth. I’m shocked as his sweet, salty taste fills my mouth.
“Swallow,” he commands, keeping me in place.
I swallow, shocked by how much he’s turning me on.
He pulls me to my feet, even while my legs are shaking, and pulls up my skirts. “Do you want my cock inside of you?”
I nod, knowing that’s exactly what I want.
“Say it.”
I take a deep breath. “I want your cock inside of me.”
He shudders and reaches down with quick movements, yanking off my underwear. Then, grabbing me by the ass, he lifts me up, and I gasp. My back hits the stone wall, and my legs wrap around his back.
“Are you ready for me?” he whispers, his breath hot in my ear.
“I’ve been ready for you all day,” I admit softly.
His tip presses into my folds. He rubs himself around, making my muscles jerk with anticipation, with the soft caresses to my sensitive area. Then, he pushes inside, and my head rolls back.
“Oh my gods, Oberon!”
“You like that?”
“Hell, yes!”
“So I just need to fuck you to get you to swear, huh, sweet thing?”
He starts pounding into me. It’s harder, rougher, than with Cassius and Sylvian, but I love it. I love every moment of his long erection rubbing through my body, touching every sensitive nerve. I love his muscles pressed against my much smaller body. I love the way his breath feels on my neck.
Kissing my lips, he locks eyes with me. And then, goes wild. I feel like I’m being pounded into dough. Except, it’s with a penis.
My orgasm starts building, higher and higher before it comes, dragging me away like a rough wave. Every muscle in my body tenses. Every nerve screams with pleasure, and my vision goes between black and white.
When I feel him explode inside of me, it feels so good. Like he’s claiming me as his own, and I really like it for reasons I don’t understand.
Then, we’re done, and there’s nothing but our breathing and the sound of our hearts racing. We just had sex. Me and Oberon, we just had sex.
We linger, catching our breath. His forehead rests against mine, his eyes closed, his expression soft in a way I rarely see.
“I can’t believe we did that,” I whisper, my heart full, my body spent.
Then, without a word, he takes my hand, intertwining our fingers. It’s a simple gesture, but it feels monumental. “I can’t believe it took us this long,” he says, his voice gentler now.
He goes and grabs a cloth and gets it wet. Kneeling beneath me, he cleans his cum off my thighs and pussy. His touch is gentle. Almost reverent.
When he’s done, he fixes himself, and my underwear and dress, then stares at me for a long moment. I feel like he has something he really wants to say, but he seems to wrestle over it before saying, “Come on.”
We step back into the hall, the air cooler against my flushed skin. The sounds of the storm echo faintly through the stone corridors, a reminder of the world outside our bubble. I want to cherish this moment, this feeling of safety and warmth forever.
As we walk, my fingers laced with Oberon’s, a faint sound catches my attention. It’s a soft, muffled cry. I stop, my heart skipping a beat.
Oberon notices immediately, his grip on my hand tightening. “Is that…?” he asks, his voice low.
“A woman crying?” I whisper, my pulse quickening as I strain to listen.
The sound is faint but insistent, a woman’s sobs seeping through the walls, tugging at something deep within me, a pull of empathy that makes my heart ache.
We both fall silent, and there it is again, the unmistakable sound of pain, coming from a room just ahead.
The door hangs slightly open, torchlight spilling into the hall while shadows twist through the dimness.
I glance at Oberon, who nods, his expression hardening into something serious and protective.
Carefully, we step closer, peering into the room. The servant inside startles at our presence, her tear-streaked face illuminated by the dim light. There’s a mix of fear and vulnerability etched in her features. She jumps to her feet, smoothing her dress and apron with trembling hands.
“I… I didn’t mean to disturb anyone,” she stammers, her voice thick with emotion.
“Are you alright?” I ask, stepping forward, the words spilling out before I can think better of it. I want to reach out, to comfort her, but I know I shouldn’t. Not with a stranger.
She shakes her head quickly, a forced smile plastered on her face that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. Just tired. Long day,” she says before brushing past us and disappearing down the hall.
Oberon and I exchange a glance, unease settling in my stomach. There’s something off about her reaction, a disconnect that sends alarm bells ringing in my mind. “What was she doing in here?” I wonder aloud, the worry creeping into my voice.
Oberon steps into the room, grabbing the torch from the wall, the light illuminating the sparse furnishings within.
The room is modest, almost bare, but what catches our attention is the far wall, covered in names carved into the stone.
Hundreds of them, maybe more, etched in uneven lines that stretch from floor to ceiling.
“What is this?” I whisper, my fingers brushing over the jagged letters. The names feel heavy, oppressive, as if the walls themselves carry the weight of their stories.
“I don’t know,” Oberon says, his jaw tight. “But I don’t like it.”
A shiver runs down my spine, and I can’t shake the feeling that we’ve stumbled onto something important… and dangerous. “We should tell the others.”
Oberon nods, his expression dark as he leads me back out of the room.
The storm’s echoes grow louder in the silence that follows, the sound of rain slamming against the stone walls.
I can’t shake the feeling that we’re not alone, that there are unseen eyes watching us from the shadows.
The labyrinth has a way of twisting reality, and I can feel the uncertainty tightening its grip around my heart.
“It’s probably nothing,” he says. “Lord Ferngull has been nothing but kind, so has his people.”
“Yeah, of course.”
Still, we’re both heading to tell the others, so maybe it is something after all.