That’s the problem.
That’s exactly the problem.
A small, nervous laugh slips out of me as I drop my hands, staring at the fire again.Is there even a way to get them to… want to have sex with me? To make a move?
The thought trails off as footsteps sound in the corridor.
My heart jumps into my throat.It’s too late to think now. They’re coming back.
And suddenly, I’m not sure if I want to hide… or if I just want to say the hell with it and offer myself to them on a silver platter.But, I couldn’t. Could I?
11
Alette
We’re all in our pajamas, sitting next to the fire. Our cups hold something light and warm, perhaps chamomile or honeyed tea, its fragrance wafting through the air, rich and soothing. It’s not enough to dull our senses, but it’s enough to soften the edges of the night, wrapping around me like a warm embrace. The tension that’s been following us feels distant, as if for this moment, the labyrinth’s dangers can’t reach us.
I curl my legs beneath me on the plush rug, the fibers soft against my skin. The heat from the fire soothes the aches in my muscles. I take a moment to close my eyes, letting the warmth envelop me, grateful for this fleeting respite, before glancing back at the four men surrounding me.
The guys are relaxed, too, though I can tell they’re still alert. It’s a strange mix of calm and readiness, but it’s become second nature for all of us. The fire crackles, and the sound of laughter fills the air with lightness.
The conversation flows easily, touching on lighter topics for once. They joke about old memories, teasing each other about past embarrassments. Ashton leans back, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he recounts a tale of the time he accidentally set hisown hair on fire while competing with Oberon. The laughter that erupts is infectious, a melody that dances through the air.
“Honestly, I thought I was going to be bald after that!” Ashton says, his voice animated, and I can’t help but laugh along with the others.
“It took you a week to figure out how to get the smell out of the castle,” Sylvian chimes in, his tone dry but unmistakably amused.
“Not your finest moment,” Oberon says.
“I recovered,” Ashton shoots back immediately. “That’s what matters.”
“You nearly set the drapes on fire too!” Cassius adds.
“They were flammable,” Ashton says, as if that explains everything.
I laugh, the sound lighter than it’s felt in days. It’s just us. Just this. And somehow, it feels… easy. Comfortable in a way I never expected.
Sylvian leans back slightly, watching Ashton with a faint shake of his head. “You’re fortunate it was only your hair that suffered,” he says.
“Oh?” Ashton’s grin sharpens. “You’ve had worse?”
Sylvian’s green eyes flick toward me for the briefest second before returning to Ashton. “Nothing quite so careless,” he replies. “But I have… been in situations where a lack of attention would have been… problematic.”
“That sounds like a story,” Ashton says immediately.
“It’s not,” Sylvian says, though there’s the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
“Which means it absolutely is,” Ashton counters.
Oberon exhales through his nose, something close to a laugh. “Just say it.”
Sylvian pauses, like he’s considering whether it’s worth indulging them.
“It was years ago,” he says, his tone even. “Within my court. A woman I was… involved with, preferred not to keep her attention limited to one partner.”
My chest tightens, breath faltering with it.
He doesn’t look at me this time as he continues.
