Page 53 of The Labyrinth and the Threaded Daughter

The realization startled him more than the growl ever could. This place was killing him slowly—physically and mentally—and still, the thought of reaching the exit without Ariadne beside him felt… wrong. Hollow. Like winning by amputating something vital.

Like his heart.

And that thought terrified him.

Eventually, the growling sound faded away. It was slow, but after a while, Corin was positive the monster, whatever it was, had stopped chasing after them. They could slow down back to a purposeful walk.

A thought plagued him. Knowing her answer previously was not satisfactory enough, and it bothered him greatly.

“Did you…” he started as they turned a corner, stone scraping beneath their boots. “Why didn’t you ever try to leave?”

She sighed as if annoyed. “I told you before.”

“I just don’t understand it.”

“I had to stay. To protect my family. To keep it together.”

“I know that, but…” he replied. “But did you try?”

Her steps slowed to the point Corin almost ran into her.

“Not really,” she admitted. Her voice was small, and he noticed her fingers pulling at each other softly.

Corin frowned. “Why not?”

She stopped then, fully, and he once again nearly walked into her back. When she turned to face him, there was no anger in her expression—only a tired, ancient honesty that made his chest ache. “Because no one ever asked.”

The words hit hard, just as he expected them to, but that wasn’t enough. “You could have tried. Followed them out or something.”

She tilted her head. “I could have. But the heirs…” She shook her head slowly as if remembering something painful “The heirs came to me desperate. Afraid. Furious. Hopeful.” She scoffed and flattened her hands at her sides. “They begged me to show them paths, doors, secrets. They asked how to survive. How to win.” Her gaze flicked away. “None of them asked if I wanted to leave, and it felt rude to take advantage.”

Something twisted uncomfortably in Corin’s chest. Rude, she felt. Escaping the maze with the help of an heir felt rude to her. And instead, she stayed trapped in an endless maze for centuries.

“I didn’t know what I was to them,” she admitted softly. “An extension of the maze. A willing part of it. A tool.” She paused. “Or simply something to use.”

Corin couldn’t stop his heart from beating rapidly when he heard the break in her voice. His hands itched to touch her, to grab her and pull her into his chest. To protect her.

The growl echoed again, breaking through the deep silence between them. Corin nearly swore, wishing the maze would have given them the time he needed to reassure her, help her.

Corin stepped closer to her without thinking. “I don’t see you that way. Please know that.”

Her eyes lifted to his, searching. Measuring. His heart pounded in his chest as he waited for her to understand. He hoped she would.

“I know,” she said after a few moments. And there was something in her voice—uncertain, almost fragile—that made his pulse quicken. “That is why you are dangerous in here.”

“I’m dangerous?” He almost had to laugh at that.

“You are possibly the most dangerous being in the Labyrinth.”

His brows raised. “Because I’m different from those who have harmed you in the past?”

Ariadne studied him for a moment. “No,” she admitted. “Because you’re not.”

Another groan rolled through the corridor, unmistakably near now. Ariadne turned and started moving again, faster this time. She mumbled something about hoping to avoid monsters. Corin followed close behind, his thoughts tangled and racing.

He didn’t know what the Labyrinth wanted from him yet, but he was beginning to understand what he wanted.

And that, somehow, felt just as perilous.