Nyria’s voice is like a serpent's hiss, filled with malice. I see her before I can make sense of her words. She steps in front of my cell, tall and terrifying, her presence oppressive. Her eyes; one blue and one black and icy, sharp like a blade, rake over me with disgust, and I instinctively pull back, feeling the weight of her gaze like a physical blow.
“What do you mean? How do you know me?” My voice trembles, betraying the fear I’m trying to hide. "We’ve done nothing wrong. Let us go."
Nyria’s lips curl into a cold smile, her teeth bared like a predator toying with prey. "Oh, sweet girl, you really have no idea, do you?" She tilts her head, eyes narrowing. "Thorne has truly lost his mind if he thought I’d ever bow down to you."
Her words hit me like a slap. Thorne? What does this have to do with him? Why is she—?
She’s watching me, her smile widening as my confusion grows. And that’s when it sinks in. This isn’t just about me. This is about him.
Nyria leans closer, her voice dripping with venom. “You're nothing. A distraction. A toy. And when I’m done, he’ll know that, too.”
The air feels too thick, too heavy to breathe.
“I don’t know what you want from me, but you need to let me go.” My voice shakes as I speak, but I force the words out. “I didn’t ask for any of this. I don’t even know who you are or what you’re talking about.”
Nyria rolls her eyes, the gesture dripping with disgust. “Oh, my gods, you’re pathetic. Fine.” She throws her arms out wide, mocking grandiosity. “Thorne, king of the maze—” she spits the title like poison “—has planned to take you as queen. Queen. Which means we all must bow to you, and that crown was supposed to be mine! It will be mine. You’re not fit to be queen. You’re scum, you’re nothing. Thorne’s just confused. He needs me to show him, to remind him who the rightful queen really is.”
My heart races, panic bubbling beneath the surface, but I force my shoulders straight, my chin lifted. “A king shouldn’t need to be reminded of who his queen is,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “Seems to me, a queen worth forgetting isn’t a queen at all.”
Nyria’s face darkens, her rage palpable. Behind her, Villina chuckles, the sound breaking through the tension like a crack of thunder. Nyria spins, her icy gaze snapping to her.
“Guards!” she shrieks. The door to Villina’s cell flies open, and Nyria strides in with the grace of a predator ready to pounce.
“No!” I shout, gripping the bars of my cell. “Leave her alone! Please—I’m sorry!”
Nyria’s lips twist into a wicked smile as she faces Villina, her eyes gleaming with malice. “Look at you,” she purrs, her voice dripping with condescension. “Aren’t you a dangerously gorgeous thing? Maybe I should let my men have their way with you.”
She laughs, the sound sharp and cruel, but Villina just smirks, her eyes locked on Nyria with a defiance that makes my stomach clench. “Careful now,” Villina says, her voice raspy but full of venom. “You laid on your back for a king and were forgotten. I lay on my back for your men, and I’ll take over your army.”
Nyria’s smile falters for a moment before she lunges, grabbing Villina by the throat. She slams her head against the cell wall, the sickening thud of bone against stone echoing in the small space. “Mmm,” Nyria hums, her eyes gleaming with sadistic glee. “Let’s just see about that.”
Without warning, she presses her lips to Villina’s, her mouth forcing open Villina’s as shadows, thick and writhing, pour from Nyria’s mouth into Villina’s. Villina’s body convulses as the darkness forces its way down her throat, her neck bulging grotesquely with the foreign invasion. Her eyes widen, pupils blown with terror, and she struggles, shaking violently as the shadows consume her from the inside.
I scream, my voice raw, but it does nothing to stop the horror unfolding in front of me. Villina’s limbs jerk, her body wracked with spasms, until finally, mercifully, she goes limp. The shadows slither from her slack mouth, dripping onto the floor as her head lolls forward, her body hanging lifeless, still bound to the wall.
Nyria steps back, surveying her work with cold satisfaction. “Hmm,” she muses, running a finger along her bottom lip. “Nice, but not enough to take over an army, I’m afraid.”
She turns, stalking toward me, her heels clicking sharply against the stone. I scramble back, my hands shaking, tears streaming down my face as I curl into myself on the cold floor.
“This,” she whispers, her voice soft but filled with venom, “is a queen. This is what a queen does. You,” she sneers, her lips curling in disgust, “could never be that.”
Nyria towers above me, her presence suffocating, her cold smile twisting with sadistic pleasure as she watches me crumble at her feet. She tilts her head, eyes gleaming like a serpent. “I warned Thorne,” she begins, her voice calm but laced with venom, “that letting you go through the maze would weaken us. But he didn’t listen, did he?”
Her voice comes out in a snarl, “Now, he will kneel. He will beg—beg—for your life, and when I take it, he’ll break. He’ll crumble like the weak fool he is, and in that moment, he’ll see who the rightful queen has always been.”
Her lips curl into a wicked smile, the promise of blood and suffering hanging in the air. “He will sit beside me as we rule this maze together. We’ll tear down that little town of yours, and nothing, nothing, will be able to stop us. With you, he could never unlock the true power of this place. You make him weak.”
I shake my head, the tears blurring my vision, but I won’t let them fall. I force myself to meet her eyes. “He won’t kneel to you,” I whisper, my voice shaking but steady. “Not for me. And I can’t wait to see your face when you realize I’m no one. I’m not who you think I am.”
Nyria’s laughter is sharp, biting, like the crack of a whip in the dark. “Oh, how deliciously naive you are,” she mocks, her eyes glinting with cruel amusement.
Her eyes narrow, her lips curling into a twisted smile. “Is that what you think? That you’re nothing?” She laughs softly, the sound cruel and dark. “You’re everything to him, Brielle. Everything. You have been for years.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. Years? What is she saying?
“He’s been obsessed with you, watching you, wanting you,” Nyria continues, her voice a low hiss. “But it’s pathetic, really. The way he clings to the idea of you, believing you’re something more than the fragile little human you are.”
She steps back, her eyes gleaming with a cruel satisfaction as she watches the confusion and horror play out on my face. “You’re right about one thing, though,” she adds, her voice dropping to a cold whisper. “You aren’t anyone special. But you’re his weakness, and that makes you everything I need.”
