7
Alette
It’s supposed to be over, but the party just won’tfreakingdie. The table is gone, the wedding arch already wilted and sagging, but the clearing thrums with bodies and noise. Lanterns swing and reek of burnt paper, nymphs climb each other like kittens, and the satyrs stomp and laugh and fight in circles around the wreckage of the feast.
I want to curl up in the dark and sleep for days, but the nymphs have other plans. They hoist me onto their shoulders. There's at least four of them, their skin sticky and sweet as honeycomb, their hair laced with petals and dew, and they parade me through the crowd.
Zomas is waiting, arms open wide. When the nymphs set me down, he scoops me into a bear hug and spins me until my stomach sloshes. “Beautiful bride!” he bellows, voice booming over the clearing. “Come, dance with me!”
It isn’t a request.
He pulls me in, one massive hand swallowing my fingers, the other circling my waist. His fur brushes my legs and makes me want to kick him in the shin, but I grit my teeth and let him lead. We circle the empty patch where the table used to be. Theother guests clear a path, some clapping and whistling, others just watching with lazy, predatory interest.
I don’t know how to dance. Not like this. My body is stiff as firewood, but Zomas is relentless. He swings me in time to the rhythm from the satyrs’ instruments, his hooves drumming the ground, his hands never still. Every time I try to put space between us, he just tugs me closer.
“You dance like a frightened rabbit,” he says, laughing. “Let go, little queen! What’s the worst I could do?”
“I can imagine a lot of things. My imagination is treacherous like that,” I whisper.
He throws his head back and howls. “You’re funny! I like that. Humans are always so scared, they forget how to enjoy themselves.” His grip tightens, spinning me so fast the world blurs.
The lanterns stutter overhead, and for a second, I see faces in them that aren’t there—my father’s, my mother’s, even Oberon’s scowl, mocking me from inside the glass. And then, I think of dancing with the other kings. How different it felt. Even then, barely knowing them, there was something far safer about dancing with them than Zomas.
I swallow, trying to keep my head above water. “Why did you want to marry me?” I say, forcing the words past my lips.
Zomas stops dancing, but keeps a hand on my back. His eyes are gold, unblinking. “Because you’re the Chosen One. The goddess’s favorite.”
“And that's enough?”
He leans closer, voice dropping. “For one night it is.”
I don't understand.
The press of his body is a warning. I force myself to meet his gaze, even though my neck prickles with gooseflesh. “And then you had Ashton and I marry because…?”
He grins, showing all his teeth. “Because the maze likes a show. Because I like a show. And because I wanted to see if you’d survive the night.”
Survive the night?
I don’t know what to do with that, so I try for a different tactic. “How did you know I was the Chosen One?”
He laughs, a softer sound. “Please. You may as well paint a target on your back. I smell the goddess all over you.”
It's that obvious?
He leans in again, so close I smell the sweat and wine on his skin. “Be careful, Alette. The goddess makes promises, but she doesn’t always keep them. Just remember that nothing in the maze is as it seems.”
I’m shaking, but I refuse to let him see it. “You sound almost… worried for me.”
Zomas barks a laugh and spins us again. “Maybe I am! Maybe I like you, little queen. The world would be dull without a girl like you to stir it up.”
I try to pull free, but he won’t let go. “So what’s your advice? How do I get out of this maze alive?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he slows our dance until we’re just rocking in place, his arms a cage. “Don’t trust anyone who isn’t a king,” he whispers. “Everything here is a trap. The maze doesn’t want you dead, not at first. It wants you lost. Broken. If you ever think you’ve won, that’s when you lose.”
He lets that hang between us, then finally releases my hand.
The music swells as someone bangs on a drum, maybe a hollow log, maybe just the ground, and the other guests close in, forming a spinning circle of bodies and light.
