No, he did not dare look at her. He could not risk losing even the smallest sliver of control that would make her aware of the full extent of the hunger consuming him.
With another ragged sigh, he reached out and plucked another bloom, pretending not to notice that it was the same shade of her lips… and he wondered if she possessed petals of a similar hue beneath the scrap of cloth circling her hips.
Vicky hated the hours that she was left alone. It was maddening, and within the complete silence of her surroundings she often thought she heard things scraping and clawing on the other side of the walls. She still had nightmares of being chased through the labyrinth, and those sounds were eerily like the ones that still haunted her in her dreams.
When Asterion was there, everything was different. There were no ungodly scratching sounds frantically trying to reach her. She was pretty sure that nothing dared to come near when he was there. But when he was not, no manner of distraction could make her unhear them.
Shivering, she climbed up on the platform bed, wrapping herself tightly in a large bear fur. She didn’t even want to know how a bear was caught in the labyrinth or what else might have ended up in there. Instead, she burrowed beneath the warmth, the fur pulled up over her head, trying to block out the terrible noise assaulting her ears.
A crash echoed through the room from somewhere in the labyrinth, and she cringed at the shrill shriek that followed after it. What made the hair on her arms raise in terror, however, was the blood-curdling snarl that seemed to echo all around. It was soon joined by a booming roar that sent small pebbles clattering across the floor.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. “Nothing can get in here. It can’t get you.”
Claws screeched against stone as shrieks and roars blended into a cacophony of violence that ended with one last deep, rolling growl before all was silent again. She barely dared to breathe as she strained to listen, her heart thundering in her ears. Tears leaked out from beneath her lashes, and she startled at the sensation of the rapidly cooling hot moisture as it slipped down her cheeks.
When several minutes of silence passed, Vicky drew in a shaky breath and slowly released it. Whatever it was, it was gone, likely carrying away the grisly remains of the challenger for its meal. She desperately wanted to throw up.
Burrowing her face into the furs beneath her cheek, she continued to take slow, measured breaths. She hated the labyrinth, and she had a distinct feeling that it hated her too.
No. That wasn’t right. The feeling she got when she was alone, listening to the labyrinth come alive outside of the safety of their secret chambers, was too cold to be hatred. It simply wanted her dead. In the depths of her nightly nightmares, when she was lost running through the halls, she sometimes saw the stones ahead of her morph into an inhuman face filled with razor sharp teeth in a maw that gaped open, unnaturally wide just ahead. She never seemed to slow to keep herself from sliding into its terrible mouth, its black tongue eagerly lapping up her blood, its teeth tearing at her flesh until she woke screaming in Asterion’s arms.
Every night he demanded to know what tormented her, and every night she brushed it off as nothing more than figments of her imagination. But it wasn’t. She wasn’t that imaginative, and she certainly had never been a horror fan like her older cousins were before the Ravening. It was the labyrinth itself… or rather, how it chose to show itself to her when her mind was vulnerable and open to its influence.
It was like she was caught in Rob Zombie’s demented playhouse, but instead of horror icons like Freddy, Michael or Jason, it was occupied by unspeakable terrors beyond human imagination.
A fresh round of tears stung her eyes, and she sniffled into the fur.
“I want to go home,” she whispered miserably to her prison and any deity who deigned to listen, her fingers clutching her pendant. She licked her lips and gave a weak laugh. “Asterion speaks of this as my home. He thinks he can keep me alive by sheer will alone, but, gods help me, he doesn’t understand.” She joked on another humorless laugh. “I am not going to make it here. This place is determined to kill me if it doesn’t drive me mad.”
At least for now there was blessed silence. She sank heavily into the furs, her body beyond weary. Her eyes drifted shut, and immediately the scratching resumed. Throwing back her head, Vicky screamed until her throat grew raw, and she collapsed back into a fit of coughing.
“Damn this fucking place,” she rasped into the fur.
She might have sunk gratefully into oblivion if not for the fact that her eyes snapped open, and she bolted upright at the sudden burst of cool air that was chased by a heavy thump of hooves hitting stone.
“Vicky!”
She nearly collapsed with relief when she saw Asterion rushing toward her, his eyes rounded and wild with panic.
He dove for the platform, and she reached for him, a sob shuddering through her as he gathered her up in his arms in an uncharacteristic comforting embrace. He held her there against his chest, crooning softly to her, the rumble of his deep voice soothing against her ear. When her tremors finally ceased, he continued to stroke her hair, but it was his deep voice that finally broke the invisible wall between them.
“What is it? What has happened here?”
She shook her head against his chest. She didn’t want to say and make him feel guilty that he was leaving her to be tormented by the labyrinth’s sinister hunger. He couldn’t stay with her even if he wanted to.
He had said before how difficult it could be to find prey, since the entrances often changed and where animals could appear within the corridors was often unpredictable. Not only that, but she was aware that he believed that slaughtering the animals he found in the labyrinth would buy her safety from its appetite. He had confided as much to her, but she had been doubtful then even before her nightmares had grown worse.
She blinked back her tears. “Just a nightmare.”
His large, furred hand stroked down her back, and she could feel the weight of his concern radiating through her. “Another?”
“Yeah,” she croaked. “They seem worse when I’m alone.” She sniffled miserably and clung to him. “Are you sure I can’t go out with you?”
His sigh was deep, but he hugged her to him, reassuring her with the small gesture of physical affection in the way that only he could. “You would not be safe out there.”
Twisting in his embrace until he loosened his grip, she leaned back so that she could meet his eyes. “I’m going to be real honest right now. Mentally, I’m not okay here alone. I think I would feel safer with you than I do now.”
He shook his head, baffled. “The magic of these walls can protect you far better than I could.”