Chapter 38
It’s funny how you can talk for hours about something you plan to do, but the second that moment actually arrives, you freeze. Insidious terror unfurls in your stomach like a wilted flower, its petals an inky black that droop in death and decay. Your heart stutters and gets caught in your throat, the feeling reminiscent of a garrote cutting into your neck.
And suddenly, you think of everything that can go wrong. Of all the people you’re leaving behind. Of the pain you’ll potentially endure. And you wonder…is it worth it?
Is escaping worth the risks?
I shuffle from foot to foot as I stand between the twins, using Cain’s eyes for guidance.
The Labyrinth stands before us, numerous passageways leading in every direction. Some will lead us to salvation, others to death.
Kai stands near the front of the group, a large backpack slung over his shoulders as he stares into the endless abyss. He holds a flashlight in one hand and a knife in the other.
Finally, he turns around, focusing on each of us before his gaze rests on me. Resolve settles across his face as he turns towards Rion and Damien, standing directly behind him and in front of me and the twins.
Logan and Bronson are watching our rear.
“Let’s go.”
Two words. That’s it. But with those two words, my entire life changes irrevocably. Either we’ll escape this prison and the horrors inside of it…or we’ll die trying.
According to my men, the farther away we get from the main portion of the Labyrinth, the one that houses the cells and the cafeteria, the more traps we’ll run into. The more the sentient maze will shift and contort in an attempt to disorient us, until we’re trapped in its thrall forever.
I tentatively begin to follow the group forward, my heart racing and my blood spiked with fear.
“Hey.” Abel places a hand on my bare upper arm as we walk, directing both my and Cain’s attention towards him. His green-gold eyes remind me of spring with little bits of fall flecked through. I only recently learned about the seasons. When you’re a prisoner for years, there are certain things that just aren’t clear, like there are names for when the leaves fall from the trees and a blanket of snow canvases the landscape. It was only when I made a comment to Cain about the snowy months that he asked, “Do you mean winter?”
The memory makes me smile before fear twists my mouth into something between a frown and a grimace.
I can feel panic clawing at me, keener than the blades in my men’s hands.
“Hey,” Abel stresses again, pausing to grip my face between both of his hands. “Everything is going to be fine, you hear me? Nothing is going to happen to you or the baby.”
My hands drop to my belly instinctively, as they always do when anyone mentions the little ball of life growing inside of me.
“It’s not us that I’m worried about,” I whisper sincerely, distantly aware that my other men have stopped too. We’ve only made it one freaking step into the Labyrinth, and I’m already second-guessing everything, wondering if we made the right decision.
“Nina.” Through Cain’s eyes, I watch Abel’s pink lips curve into a wicked smile. “Let’s play a game.” He releases my face to take my hand, and we begin to walk once more. Cain’s eyes drift from my face, towards the walls on either side of us. This particular hallway is constructed from dark brick, the ground littered with loose rocks and disgusting puddles of sludgy-brown water. Even more water drips from rusted metal pipes running across the ceiling, though my guys told me we wouldn’t be able to follow them to an exit. Apparently, there are hundreds and hundreds of them, and all of them stop in random places throughout the Labyrinth. It’d be impossible to find which one actually leads out of this place.
Just another tool designed to disorient and confuse us.
“A game?” I parrot robotically, pulling Cain’s attention back to me. In front of us, Kai, after consulting quietly with Rion and Damien, veers to the right, under a large archway that’s graffitied in what looks like dark, red paint.
Or dried blood.
“Would you rather…cut off your pinkie or lose all of your nails?” Abel questions cheerfully.
“Abel!” Cain snaps, but Abel simply throws his head back in laughter.
“It’s an honest question!” he defends around his chuckles, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. To me, he asks, “Well?”
“What type of game is this?” I mutter, wincing at phantom pain, but he simply laughs harder. “Um…” I tap a finger to my chin in contemplation. “Well, I had my fingernails ripped off before at the Compound. That hurt. A lot. So I guess I’ll say goodbye to my pinkie.”
Too late, I realize that every man present has heard my words. The mood around us darkens considerably, curling around me like smoke.
Abel frowns, his face so pinched, you’d think he just swallowed a lemon.
“Sorry.” I blanch as Cain leads me around a particularly deep puddle, the liquid appearing thick and sappy like black tar. “Probably shouldn’t bring up stuff like that.”
“No, Bambi,” Abel says sadly. “You should bring that shit up. You should be able to talk to us about what you went through. It’s just?—”
“Hard for us to hear,” Cain cuts in. He gently runs his hand through my black hair, the color appearing almost purple from the dim light emitting from the walls, and I smile, feeling his warmth blaze through me. “Now,” he continues, changing the subject, “would you rather eat candy for every meal for the rest of your life or never eat candy again?”
“Candy every meal for the rest of my life, man!” Abel rubs his hands together gleefully. “Maybe then my cum will taste like chocolate.”
“There’s medication for that!” Rion calls cheerfully from in front of us. “It’s called Chocolate A La Dick.”
“I want a chocolate dick,” I exclaim automatically, and I swear every man groans.
“No more dicks for you!” Kai cuts in vehemently. “You have e-fucking-nough.”
“But Rion said?—”
“A big, yummy chocolate dick?” Abel interrupts, and I can hear the amusement lacing his voice. Though Cain isn’t looking at his twin, I imagine Abel’s eyes are sparkling with humor. “Do you think you can swallow an entire chocolate dick, Bambi?”
“Probably.” I shrug my shoulders as we turn down yet another hall. I have no idea how Kai is choosing where to go—maybe just blind luck? Hope? Faith? “I think I could easily swallow a chocolate dick.”
Bronson growls from behind me, the low, primitive noise heating my core, as Abel chuckles.
“You know that any cocks added to this arrangement has to be agreed upon by us first, right?” Cain snaps, sounding irrationally jealous. What the heck?
“Wait!” I remove my hand from Abel’s and hold both of them in the air. “We’re talking about a type of candy, right?”
“I once tried to eat my own dick,” Rion chimes in conversationally. “I’d been working on my gymnastics skills, okay, and I grabbed a bottle of chocolate syrup. Keep in mind, I was extremely flexible at the time?—”
“Everybody stop!” Kai’s shout is so sudden that I nearly stumble over my own two feet at the force of it. Fortunately, Cain and Abel both grab one of my arms, pulling me even tighter between them.
“What?” Bronson snaps, but it’s not Kai who answers.
Damien’s ice-blue eyes snap to my face before he slowly lowers his gaze to the ground. Cain does as well, and a tiny gasp leaves my lips when I see what holds my men’s attention.
Though the ground appears to be made from cement, it’s…cracking. Cracking like it’s actually a thin layer of ice. Like it’s a pond that has frozen over and oblivious kids decided to traipse across its length.
The jagged lines start directly beneath Kai’s feet and expand outwards, almost like the gossamer strings of a spiderweb. As we stand, breaths bated, more and more cracks begin to form on the gray floor below us.
My pulse races, the sloshing of blood in my head so loud and so deafening that I barely hear Kai when he bellows, “Run!”
Cain and Abel tighten their grip on my upper arms as they run as fast as they can towards a section of the flooring that is a darker gray than the rest—the only part that isn’t mottled and distorted with cracks.
And then…
The floor crumbles beneath our feet, caving in on itself, just as we reach the dark gray cement.
“Bronson!” I scream as I watch my shadow wolf’s arms pinwheel as he attempts to find solid ground. Diminutive shards of stone crumble beneath his feet, and then he’s falling, falling, falling?—
It’s that type of moment when time stops. I’m actually sure it ceases to exist, suspended between now and the uncertain and precarious future, like a snapshot you’re unable to look away from. Wild, primal fear takes over me, a tiny voice screaming in my head but the words are incoherent. Desperation streaks through me like lightning.
No. No. No no no no. Nononono.
Logan materializes in my vision, his lithe body leaning over the edge, and grips Bronson’s arm, just as the final section of floor falls away, leaving nothing but a gaping pit behind. Before even a second can tick by, the rest of my men are at the ledge as well, pulling Bronson onto solid ground.
Where there was once solid flooring is now nothing but a dark, endless abyss. It seems to go on for miles and miles and miles. Honestly, I wonder if it ever ends, if you’ll fall and fall and fall until your heart eventually gives out.
That could’ve been Bronson.
I don’t even realize I’m crying until my burly wolf shifter crawls towards me. I throw myself into his arms without preamble, squeezing him like the fate of the universe depends on it.
And since he just so happens to be the center of mine at that moment, I guess it really does.
“Are you okay?” I ask desperately, pulling myself away long enough to run the pads of my fingers across his face, down his smooth-shaven cheekbones, through his shaggy blond hair, much longer than it was when I first met him.
“I’m okay,” he assures me, but all I can think of is, what if?
What if Logan hadn’t been with us, hadn’t grabbed Bronson’s arms before he could fall with the rest of the floor?
What if I lost Bronson?
Oh God.
I curl my arms around Bronson’s neck and brush my lips against his, the simple touch igniting my desperation and need. My fingers dig into his blond hair, and I know that I could fall forever into him and he’ll never let me hit the ground.
“I was so worried,” I whisper when we finally part, his forehead resting against my own.
It only lasted a few seconds, but I swear my soul was wrenched from my body. I imagine it would’ve followed Bronson into that abyss without a second thought. Because without him, without all of them, I’m not sure I’m capable of being whole.
I truly believe that our jagged edges fit together perfectly, making it so we no longer feel as broken.
I twist my head to face where I know Logan to be standing, allowing my sincerity to bleed through my voice. “Thank you,” I whisper. “Thank you for saving him.”
And then I turn back to Bronson and kiss him like the entire world will stop spinning if I don’t.