Page 12 of The Lord of the Labyrinth

“Be not afraid, mistress.”

This time, when Kate peered into the darkness, a pair of golden eyes stared back at her.

“Shit!” She scrambled back in a panic, then ran toward the tall gilded door. But the silver handle wouldn’t budge.

Oh God, where the hell am I?

Was this one of those dreams where she had woken up into another dream?

A light popping sound came from under the bed, and the golden eyes beneath the bed frame vanished. Kate didn’t move for a long moment until she felt certain that whatever had been beneath the bed was gone. Then she studied the bedroom again.

It was very large, with the biggest bed she’d ever seen. The white wood of the headboard was intricately carved with detailed figures. She took a closer look and gasped. The figures were slowly moving, as if she was watching a play. Men and women in elaborate clothing danced in swirling patterns of white and silver. The wood itself wasmoving.

“I’m definitely dreaming,” she whispered to herself.

The sound of water drew her focus again. This time, she crept on bare feet toward the half-open door where the sounds were coming from. She peered through the space between the door and the frame to glimpse the glowing moonlit room beyond.

“I know you are there,” a deep, sonorous voice said to her. “Come in.”

With no way out and no point in hiding, Kate summoned her courage and pushed the door open. She’d expected this to be some sort of bathroom, but nothing could have prepared her for what she actually saw.

A man sat in a large marble bathing pool, the water rising to the middle of his broad chest. The man was not unfamiliar. She had seen him for a brief moment in her bedroom when the owl she’d rescued turned into an impossibly tall man with silver hair. The water he lay soaking in was strewn with red and white petals that looked like they were dissolving slowly in shimmering trails over the water’s surface.

A dream... definitely had to be a dream. Owls didn’t simply turn into terrifyingly beautiful men in the middle of the night.

The heady scent of flowers filled the air, making her slightly dizzy. Could you smell in dreams? Or was it the sight of the naked man that affected her? Kate couldn’t look away from him. His silvery-white hair was partially pulled back by a black leather tie and the rest cascaded down just past his shoulders. Despite the color of his hair, he didn’t appear to be any older than thirty-five. His eyes were bright blue, the color of cloudless winter skies. But they also held a hint of ice, as though he never smiled. His features were beautiful, yet masculine in a way that did not seem possible. The muscle and hard lines of his body seemed one moment away from turning him into a wild beast.

It almosthurtto look at him, because whoever this man was, he couldneverbe hers. A dream could not love her back. The deep ache inside her grew. She would never know this man in the light of day, would never feel a true kiss from his lips. When she woke, he would be just another half-forgotten dream that would leave her feeling empty inside.

“Awake at last.” The man’s deep voice caressed the air, made it vibrate, and sent tremors of desire through her body.

In that moment, she realized she’d never really known what it meant towanta man. The sweet kisses stolen by the boys she had dated meant nothing compared to the long, caressing look the stranger now gave her. It was a wild, dark feeling. She wanted to touch his skin, to feel his lips, to know what it meant to give her body, even her soul, to him. She’d never wanted that with anyone before, but right now, she wanted it more than her next breath.

Somehow, she found her tongue and spoke. “Who are you? What is this place?”

She continued to focus on the water that formed beads upon the man’s skin. There was a faint smattering of dark hair on his chest and light scars upon his body. He seemed bigger than life somehow, filling the room with a presence that wasn’t simply physical.

“I am Roan Arun,” he said, drawing her focus to his lips. “I am the lord of the dark woods, master of the labyrinth, and king of the Unseelie. You are in my home, the palace of the Twilight Court.”

She tried to understand what he’d just said, but it made no sense. Who were the Unseelie? The word felt familiar, but she couldn’t quite remember where she’d heard it. He slowly stood up, and the water poured in silvery streams down his body, over enticing grooves and down to the V-shaped muscles that pointed to his... Her gaze jerked back up to his face, and she saw the man’s smirk.

Kate swallowed hard. She’d never actually been in the same room with a naked man before. She’d never even had sex, and now all she could think about was this man tossing her onto the nearest bed and pinning her beneath him. The mere thought sent a wild, erotic flush through her entire body.

“This is a dream,” she said in a whisper. It had to be.

“In a way,” the man agreed as he climbed out of the bath. “All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.” He turned away to grab a white towel that sat on top of a neat stack on a stone shelf, then wrapped it around his lean hips, giving her a glimpse of his muscled ass before he covered it.

“Have you read Edgar Allan Poe?” she asked, confused and curious.

“Read, my dear mortal?” He snorted as if offended. “I am the one who gifted Edgar’s words to him.”

Roan turned back to face her as he walked around the edge of the bathing pool, coming toward her. She backed up out of instinct, her body pressed flat against the now closed door behind her.

When did it close?

“You are not wrong, who deem that my days have been a dream; yet if hope has flown away in a night, or in a day, in a vision, or in none, is it therefore the less gone?” He recited Poe’s poem, stopping just inches from her as he braced one forearm above her head.

The smell of those strange and beautiful flowers drifted off his skin, along with a scent that made her think of mahogany and amber. He smelled like the woods at night, as if a fire had just burned somewhere nearby and the woodsmoke had left a tantalizing haze upon the leaves. Her body responded, her nipples hardening against her button-up pajama top. Her lips parted and she drew in a quivering breath. The presence of this man, this king, was impossible to explain. She felt like she was being pulled toward him like a moon dragged in by a planet’s gravity. He leaned closer. He was tall... so very tall, easily towering over her by a head and a half.

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