“We’re free,” I say, pulling my blade out of the key hole.
Ashton helps me off of his shoulders and spins me in his arms. “You did it! You clever little human.”
“Let’s congratulate heroutof the tunnel,” Cassius suggests, and I can’t argue with that.
We all pour out of our metal coffin, ignoring the wet earth all around it. Everyone is smiling and clapping each other on the shoulder, but Oberon looks like he’s sagging in relief. The poor guy.
I touch his arm. “Are you okay?”
His gaze finds mine, and there’s that glimmer of openness from him again. “Sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. You’re only human, or, er, fae, after all.”
He leans over me, his eyes intense. “You really don’t care if I’m not made of stone, do you?”
“If anyone thinks a man should be made of stone, they’re not very bright,” I tell him quietly.
Oberon keeps staring at me as Sylvian pulls me into a hug that seems to surround me. It reminds me of being attacked by a very friendly, very affectionate dog that has no idea just how big it is. He starts kissing me all over my head, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Stop, Sylvian!”
“Have you had enough?” he jokes, continuing to kiss me.
I look up at him to tell him exactly that when one of his kisses lands on my lips. I freeze, shocked, and his eyes widen as they land on me.
He pulls back and clears his throat. “Sorry about that.”
“Of course,” I say, tucking my hair behind my ear.
After an awkward moment, Cassius suggests, “Should we keep going? We’re going to have to make our camp for the night soon, and I don’t want to be anywhere near this thing when we do.”
We all agree and start walking, but I can feel their gazes on me. I wonder what they’re thinking about their chosen human. I try to guess, but I can’t even imagine. At the very least though, wondering what they think of me is far more pleasant than thinking about what the labyrinth has in store for us next, so I indulge myself, for just a little while. I’m surprised when my thoughts keep coming back to the two men I’ve kissed recently.
Two men. After a lifetime with no men in my life.
It’s weird.
21
Sylvian
Duskin the labyrinth has a thickness to it, as if every drop of sun has been wrung out of the sky and mopped up by the hedge. This area of the labyrinth is different. Tighter. So tight that none of us can stand next to the other. We walk in it, all five of us, single file. All of us are still damp and exhausted from the tunnel.
If I listen hard enough, I can hear the rhythm of Alette’s steps between Ashton and Cassius’s heavier treads. She walks like a deer through tangled brush, always alert, always bracing to run. Her scent, something flowery and impossibly human, is the only thing in the world that feels grounded to me. Even though I somehow ended up right behind Oberon, I’m constantly fighting my own instinct to walk back and be closer to her. To breathe in her scent and remind myself why we’re doing this.
Although, I know this is technically for my people. To get our powers back. My mind seems more focused on getting my sweet human back safely than anything else.
Which is crazy.
I’m a man who has never, in his long life, been enamored with a woman before, but I’m very clearly enamored with Alette. And, much to my annoyance, I know the other kings feel the same way.
Competition is not my thing. Wantinganywoman the three assholes wants iscertainlynot my thing. But I’m completely enchanted by Alette, and I won’t resist getting to know her just because of the men I hate.
Still, I have to focus on surviving. Not the pretty little thing.
At every bend, the walls pulse with that green-black shine, throwing shadows like knives. The path is only a few paces wide, so close that when we pass a sharp corner Oberon’s shoulders nearly brush both sides. I keep my eyes ahead, on his back, and pretend not to notice the way he hunches himself to be smaller when the walls press in. He’s not built for hiding his feelings; his body does it for him.
But who knew the old fire fae king was afraid of tight spaces?Certainly not me.
