And although doubt festered, and she feared they’d be trapped in this godsforsaken place forever, the groove buzzed a low, guttural noise and glowed crimson.
“Offer it your fear,” he said, voice rough. He removed his finger and nodded at the divot, now stained with the red of his blood.
She and Brennen shared a hesitant look, but it cut short as the wolf followed his King’s lead. The same reaction shuddered through Brennen’s body as he made his offering, but when the outline glowed he retreated.
Emmery’s swallow stuck in her throat. Blood offerings and confessed fears could only mean horrors awaited on the other side. Perhaps this fortress fed off terror, like Senka seemed to. Could the offered fears be chosen? And whatever she gave would surely be exploited.
But with no other choice, she did the same: drew blood, pressed a finger into the divot, and wished for this to work.
The moment her flesh met stone, the hair rose on the back of her neck. The wall trapped her there, suspended in whatever frigid nightmare composed it. Because this enchantment, the force entombed within it, claimed her fears. Held her captive until she surrendered them.
Allof them.
Every moment her knees trembled, all her regrets, loathings, failures, and the dark whispers that endlessly slithered through her mind. Hideously condemning images flashed before her eyes, ones she couldn’t unsee. A tiny cry slipped from between her lips but she clamped her teeth and endured as this strange magic bled her dry and defiled her mind.
When the glowing wall released her, she wrenched her hand away, eager to be rid of that soul-sucking vulnerability.
An eerie silence followed.
Emmery glanced over her shoulder at Destonne, whose gaze had already found hers. His brows drew together, lips parted like he wanted to say something, but the loud grind of stone on stone interrupted before either of them could say a word. Bricks shifted within the wall and the ground trembled as the outline of the door slid under the stone above like the entrance at Deimos’s Mausoleum.
A dark, endless hallway loomed ahead and stale air breathed from the path like this place had been long sealed away, perhaps with good reason. As if it would allow her to sever the shadows, she squinted, though all she spotted was a forking path. The ceilings sat low, converse to the unfathomably high walls. How strange. And as she stared into the blackness, Reize’s warning struck her and her gaze shot to Brennen. “Is this … a labyrinth?”
“I think you’re correct,” he replied and sighed a deep, heavy breath.
In need of comfort, Emmery reached for the crystal hanging from her neck, but came up empty, since she’d returned it to Destonne the night before. As if he provided the same solace, she turned to the King to find his eyes wide, cheeks pale, and hands fisted at his sides. Blood streamed from his crown, down his temples, and dripped off his chin. His chest and forearms rippled, stretched, and strained against the thorns, like his skin teetered on the verge of splitting.
Whatever spurred that look of unfettered terroron his face Emmery couldn’t be sure, but one thing was clear: this wasn’t some game. Panicked, her eyes sought the wolf.
“Dez is afraid of closed in spaces,”Brennen said, his hesitant voice ringing in her mind and weary eyes a dulled burnt orange.From Destonne’s lack of reaction, the words must have only been for her.
Emmery sank her teeth into her bottom lip as she contemplated that revelation. Unsure what else to do, she walked to Destonne. Shadows swam in his gaze as his eyes darted from the ceilings, to the entryway, and settled on the black corridor.
When she stood before him and he still refused to meet her gaze, she looked up at him and whispered, “Destonne?”
A bleak silence steeped between them disturbed only by his disjointed breaths. After an impossibly tense moment, he cleared his throat and choked out, “I don’t suppose there’s another way?”
“It doesn’t look like it,” Emmery replied gently with the same patience he’d extended in her swimming lessons. She waited for a shift in his demeanor, his usual bold annoyance, a flicker of humour, or—
Damn it, she didn’t know. But she practically saw the imprint of terror’s fingers as it gripped him by the throat. She could only think of one way to distract him from the fear. The same tactic he’d used to get her into the water. A challenge. A game. Harmless flirtation.
It didn’t have to mean anything.
Shade didn’t have to know and she could shove her guilt aside for the moment. Besides, this was what they did. They teased and taunted and danced around one another until one of them gave in. And she’d coax him into the labyrinth if it was the last thing she did.
Because sherefusedto be stuck here. So she reached for him, and even as the thorns wrestled beneath his skin, she placed a hand on his chest. His breathing faltered, but he remained fixated on the dark hallway.
“You said you weren’t afraid of anything,” Emmery hummed. Her fingers leisurely drummed over his still heart.
Beneath her hand, his chest inflated with a jagged breath. “I might have been wrong. Only this once.”
Emmery stood on her toes and craned her neck, her lips beneath his ear. “Can I convince you to come with me?”
“Absolutely not,” he said firmly. “I’mnotgoing in there.”
She breathed a soft chuckle against his neck. “Not even for a distraction?”
When she pulled back, he finally met her playful stare. He blinked at her and his gaze shifted to recognition or a hint of delight and—