The cyclopes begin to file out, their heavy footsteps echoing through the cavern, each one dragging the sound of them farther away. I don’t move. I barely breathe. Not until the last shadow disappears. Not until the silence closes in, thick and suffocating. Only then do I slip from my hiding place, heart hammering, praying I’m not already too late.
I rush to the circle.
“Alette?” Ashton’s voice is sharp, disbelieving.
My hands are already shaking as I examine the mechanism in a frenzy. The blades are rising slowly but steadily, their sharp points creeping closer to the men’s bodies with each turn. Paths run between the blades, little channels carved into the stone, all leading to the center of the circle. My gaze darts around, piecing it together. Blood will spill into those paths, then trickle down into the basin, pooling in the center.
“What are you doing?” Sylvian demands, his voice tight.
“Fixing this,” I whisper, even as my throat goes dry.
“No,” Oberon growls immediately. “You need to run.”
I look at him in shock. “Of course I’m not going to run.”
Then, I focus back on the task at hand. I lunge for the handle, fingers slipping against the cold metal as I grab it and yank. Nothing. Not even a tremor. I brace my foot against the stone and pull harder, muscles straining, teeth gritting as I throw my weight into it. The mechanism groans, but it doesn’t stop.
But I don’t stop trying. I pull. I yank. I grit my teeth, but it doesn’t move.
“You’re not strong enough,” Ashton says softly. “It’s okay, Alette. You tried your hardest.”
“Alette, listen to me—” Cassius starts, his voice controlled, urgent.
“I said no!” I choke out, adjusting my grip and trying again. I shove instead of pull, slamming my shoulder into it, hoping to force it back the way it came. Pain shoots through my arm, but the handle barely shifts before locking stubbornly in place again.
The grinding continues.
The blades rise. A sharp, strangled sound cuts through the chamber. I freeze for half a second.Sylvian.
One of the blades has pressed into his side, not deep, but enough. Blood wells instantly, dark against his skin. His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t cry out again.
“No—” I gasp, panic spiking hard and fast.
“Go,” Oberon snarls, his voice breaking with pain as another blade grazes his thigh. “Now.”
“No.” It’s all I can say.No, I won’t go. No, I can’t go. No, I can’t imagine my life without these three men.
So, no. No matter what. I’m staying here. Even if it’s to face our doom together.
I reposition, grabbing the handle with both hands, twisting, jerking, trying to force it in any direction that will give. It’s like wrestling something alive, unyielding, relentless, built to resist.
“Alette—” Ashton hisses, breath catching as a blade bites into him. “You can’t stop it.”
“Watch me,” I grit out.
The blades climb higher.
Cassius sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, his composure cracking. “The mechanism—” he forces out, even as his voice tightens with pain. “It’s not just the handle. There has to be a release. Look for a secondary control.”
I drop to my knees instantly, reaching beneath the edge of the mechanism, fingers scraping along stone and metal, searching for anything loose, anything I can jam, break, rip out.
“There’s nothing!” I choke.
“There is,” Cassius insists, voice strained but certain. “There’s always something.”
My nails catch on a seam and I dig in, my pulse spiking.Something.
My hand fumbles for my dagger. The familiar weight rests in my grip, and as I draw it free, the blade hums faintly, glowing soft blue in the dim light.
