I still remember her harsh words to the Huntsman, the day he stole her away.
“He’s nothing. No one. Even his parents left him.”
I’ve replayed that moment in my head so many times. Sometimes, I’m rational and see her protecting me by any means. Other days, I wonder… if force did not separate us, would she still want me? If she didn’t think I was dead, would she have missed me?
“We need to move,” I mutter, scanning the courtyard for entry back into the Labyrinth. The maze of hedges and stone walls seems to shift beneath the blood moon, an ever-changing puzzle designed to confuse and trap.
Flori’s voice is ice. “After you, Huntsman.”
The title stings, but I swallow my hurt and lead the way.
We move silently toward the altar, my senses on high alert. The blood and gore of corpses still glisten in the soft light. Wet. Dread sinks in my gut when I realize we’ve re-emerged from Amara’s temple on the same night. Judging by the moon’s position, perhaps an hour or so after we left.
Flori’s bare feet make no sound on the damp grass behind me. I glance back, worried she’ll cut herself on the debris littering the ground, but her steps are sure. Her eyes meet mine, defiant. I look away first.
“Stay here,” I grumble.
“I can—” Her jaw clicks shut when she smells the cloying, coppery decay.
“I’ll get your boots and tiara.” I creep forward, skirting the edge of the carnage. Flori’s stolen boots remain untouched beneath the altar where they fell from her feet. The thorny tiara isn’t far, hidden in long grass to the side. An image of her lying prone beneath chains on the altar hits me—her helpless eyeslocked on me, that scum positioning himself behind her for the claiming. Rage scrapes claws through my mind.
I hurry back to her side. “Here.”
She slips on her boots with practiced ease—with far more sophistication than the first time in the maze, which means she was trying to seduce me back then. Somehow, I’m disappointed she’s not trying now.
When she reaches for the tiara, I catch her wrist.
“Why wear it?” I ask. “It’s a red flag for hunters.”
“My blue hair and markings do that too.”
“So why add more danger?”
She stares at me long and hard before answering. “Because thorns offer me protection.”
My eyebrows draw together. “They’re brittle.”
“I only need a single drop to do harm… or good.”
Air expels from my lungs when I realize her virginal blood had been on my cock. She sees the horror dawning on my face and smirks. “Don’t worry, I’m in full control of my gift.”
“Are you telling me you could have—” I gulp.
“If I wanted.” She shrugs. “If I thought you would hurt me.”
It dawns on me that might be why she walked through the Labyrinth with such confidence, luring hunters and toying with them.
“Flori.” My fingers wrap around her upper arm. “You sacrificed yourself twice for me down there, didn’t you?”
She clears her throat and replies, “My virginal blood was my last line of defense. But it’s not foolproof. As you saw with the Baron’s man, it was useless.”
“It was smart. And you wasted it on me.”
“Nothing is ever wasted on you,” she whispers with such emotion that I have to believe she truly loves me—thorns and all.
The gravity of her sacrifice wraps around my heart. She didn’t even hesitate. In fact, she was the one pushing for ourunion. And now, without my seed fertilizing her womb, she’s exposed.
I took that choice away from her.
