This had to be the place the riddle meant.Twisted lovers surround her:ivy.Circling an aching hole that has yet to be filled:a keyhole. If you want to find what you seek, open her legs and slip inside her waiting labyrinth:a maze!
It was so stupidly simple she wanted to slap herself. She had completely forgotten this place even existed. When she was a child, they used to use it for Spirit Night, but no one could ever reach the middle. The thing was huge.
“Do you still have the key?” she asked.
“Yeah, I do.” Felix fished it from his pocket.
Where does it go when he shifts?Does he have metaphysical pockets? Because as a woman, that would be so helpful. She would never have to carry a bag again. Just fish out her lip balm from the void. Never to be lost again.
“Put it in the hole.”
“At least take me to dinner first, kitten.”
Avery waited until he finally sidestepped around her, the cold rushing in between where the heat had been. She already missed it. Putting the key into the lock, he turned it, and a click sounded.
Hope jolted through her body. This had to be it. The iron squealed as it opened, one half of the vine-covered gate swinging inward.
Felix gestured toward the gate. “Ladies first.”
Avery pressed her lips together. “Coward.”
When she went to walk in front of him, he grabbed her shoulders, his claws grazing her collarbone. Her heart rate skyrocketed as he leaned close. His breath was hot against her ear, sending goose bumps skittering over her body.
“I was joking.”
After an hour or so,and with much bickering, they finally made it to the inner part of the maze. While Avery had been correct a few times in her directions, her stubbornness had led them back to the same hedge at least three times. At that point, she made the executive decision to surrender her directions to Felix, who led them to the center in five minutes flat.Cocky bastard.
“If I weren’t drunk, I could have done that,” Avery said, crossing her arms as he walked through the arched entrance. She was sobering up, but she neglected to mention that fact.
Felix didn’t reply; she figured he was still brooding from when she had called him a little bitch.
“Felix?”
He didn’t answer. Annoyed now, she followed his gaze to something in front of them, his eyes narrowing.
In the center of the maze stood a statue of an unknown figure, a man carved from marble, body sculpted to perfection. Massive wings like those of a dragon sprang out from the back of him, horns curling atop his head. In a strange way, he reminded Avery of Felix. Or maybe it was the abs. Probably just the abs.
“What is it?” she asked, voice dropping.
“That’s the shifter god. Arawn.”
She stepped closer to the statue, running her finger along the base where moss had claimed it as its own. “Why would witches have a statue of your god on Caerwyn?”
“Your guess is as good as mine, little witch.”
The funny feeling returned to her stomach at the nickname. She hated to admit it was growing on her. That he was growing on her. But the gnawing question about why the witches had a hidden statue of the shifter god on their island quickly replaced it. The plinth looked familiar, similar to the one that was cut away near where she did the ritual. “I think I’ve seen the plinth befor?—”
A vine burst from the moss at the base of the statue. Felix grabbed her collar and yanked her away from it, putting his body between them. More vines shot up, climbing to the top as they wound their way around Arawn’s legs, his torso, and stopping at his neck. Wolf's milk bloomed along their length, huge yellow petals peeling back to show gold stamens.
The flowers pulsed. Light gathered in their centers, spilling out in rhythmic waves like a dozen tiny hearts beating in sync. Every flower opened at once, their petals coming together and apart like mouths taking their first breath.
“When spirits writhe and reach their peak, their mouth will open, hungry and yearning for you to come inside. Only then will the final truth reveal itself.”
The voice layered over itself, a chorus that came from every flower at different pitches, the old language rolling through theclearing in an otherworldly echo. The sound crawled up Avery’s spine.
The goddess.
Felix’s shoulders dropped, but his hand remained on her arm, his grip firm.
