Page 47 of Angel of Ruin

I also remember his lips on mine. His hands on my body. A thrill courses through my body at the thought of experiencing that again.

My breath hitches in my throat as a burst of energy courses through me. The magic responds, flowing like a river from my chest to my hands. I begin to weave the spell, my hands moving in intricate patterns.

The beasts charge, but I don't flinch. I pour every ounce of strength I have into the spell, feeling the barrier behind me pulse in response.

Just as the lead beast leaps, jaws open wide, the barrier shatters. I fall backward through the opening, the beast's claws missing me by inches.

I land hard on the other side, scrambling to my feet as the barrier reforms, trapping the enraged beasts on the other side. Their howls of frustration echo through the labyrinth as I catch my breath, hardly believing I made it.

With one last glance at where I saw Sariel, I steel myself and press on, deeper into the heart of the labyrinth.

I stumble forward, gasping as the air around me suddenly turns frigid. My breath comes out in white puffs, and I can feel the cold seeping into my bones. Just moments ago, I was sweating in sweltering heat. This labyrinth is relentless.

"Keep moving," I mutter to myself, rubbing my arms for warmth.

As I press on, the temperature plummets further. Ice crystals form on my eyelashes, and my fingers start to go numb. I grit my teeth, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

The icy chill vanishes as quickly as it came, replaced by a new, equally daunting challenge. My lungs burn as I gasp for air, the atmosphere suddenly thin and lacking oxygen. Each breath feels like I'm sucking through a straw, my chest heaving with the effort.

"Shit," I wheeze, groaning at the added exertion on my body. Black spots dance at the edges of my vision, threatening to overwhelm me. I force myself to keep moving, one agonizing step at a time.

A low growl cuts through the haze of my oxygen-deprived mind. I spin around, nearly losing my balance, to face a creature unlike anything I've ever seen. It's massive, with gleaming scales and razor-sharp claws. Its eyes lock onto me, predatory and hungry.

My heart pounds, using up what little oxygen I have left. I know I can't outrun it, not in this state. And I don't have the strength for a prolonged magical battle.

The creature lunges, its jaws snapping shut where I stood just a moment ago. I dive to the side, rolling across the ground. My vision swims, but I force myself to focus.

I remember Sariel's lessons on using an opponent's strength against them. As the creature turns for another attack, I grab a handful of loose stones from the ground.

It charges again, and I wait until the last possible second before hurling the stones at its eyes. The creature roars in pain and confusion, momentarily blinded.

Using the last of my strength, I dart between its legs, sliding underneath its massive body. As I emerge on the other side, I spot a narrow crevice in the wall—just big enough for me, but too small for the beast.

I throw myself into the opening, squeezing through just as the creature's claws swipe at the air where I'd been. Its roars reverberate behind me as I push deeper into the crevice, finally emerging on the other side.

Gasping and trembling, I collapse to my knees. My lungs burn as I gulp in air, the oxygen levels slowly returning to normal. Every part of me aches, pushed to the absolute limit.

But I'm alive. And I'm still moving forward.

With shaking legs, I force myself to stand. The center of the labyrinth has to be close now. It has to be.

Exhausted beyond measure, I press on, each step a monumental effort of will. The challenges keep coming, but so do I. I won't give up. Not now. Not ever.

24

LYRA

My legs feel heavy with every step forward, but I keep going despite the discomfort. My chest heaves and my eyes droop from fatigue. I take a moment to pause, leaning on a wall to catch my breath.

"This fucking labyrinth better not shift again," I whisper. "Not now."

Suddenly, I'm no longer in the maze. The cold stone walls vanish, replaced by the familiar, worn-out furniture of my family's cramped living room back in my village. The scent of mold and desperation hits me like a punch to the gut. My parents are there, their faces twisted in anguish, eyes sunken with worry and fatigue.

"Lyra, help us!" my mother cries, reaching out to me with trembling hands. Her fingers are cracked and calloused from years of hard work. "We're going to lose everything if you don't come back to us!"

I blink hard, my heart racing so fast that it's the only thing I can hear in my ears. Sweat trickles down my back, and I fight the urge to run to them. No. This can't be real. I'm still inthe labyrinth. This is just another trick, another cruel illusion designed to break me.

"You're not real," I whisper, but my voice shakes. My hands clench into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms. "You're not here. This isn't happening."

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