Page 25 of Of Monsters and Mazes

With a heavy exhale, I gripped the doorknob to the blue section, and I hoped for the best. I twisted the knob and… nothing happened. The knob just spun on its axis endlessly, like I was spinning a top.

“Let me guess, this isn’t a real door, just like these aren’t real walls.”

Theron shrugged, and I’ve mentioned I hate him, right? “You’re so smart and brilliant and brimming with leadership. You tell me, Butterfly.”

“Fine. It’s a false door, and we’re going elsewhere.” I snapped, then I pounded down the corridor to yet another blue door. This one spun its knob freely too. I groaned as I found a third and a fourth to the same note.

Theron continued to watch me struggle, while he leaned against the wall with his arms and legs crossed, looking cool and bored and irritatingly hot. Despite all the scars that marred his flesh, he had a perfectly sculpted body, and an unfairly perfect face. The fact that my lady bits were ready to flutter over those horns had me questioning my taste and dedication to feminism. Though I didn’t think there was anything in the doctrine about not getting fucked by the devil, was there? The Bible probably frowned upon it, but the Bible frowned upon women’s rights, too, so I wasn’t going to use that to dictate my kinks. If he could make me come, that was part of women’s lib.

I think.

Probably?

I should verify.

The next knob I turned, I noticed the little scars that speckled my arms. Scars that made me his possession, according to him. His “good girl,” I believe he’d called me.

Yep. Lady bits fluttering.

That for sure wasn’t in the doctrine. Why was it that I was happy to run the show everywhere but in bed? My dream should have been to be a dominatrix, but my heart was practically palpitating every time I thought about the moment he told me I belonged to him.

The fact that I was here because I fell for a man who promised to choke me with red flags until I came was telling and apt. I deserved everything I got for being so basic. Just me, crushing it in the board room, while letting the patriarchy dictate my kinks instead of looking for healthy, equal partnerships like the bad bitch I was. Imagining someone else taking control in my life and dominating me for once shouldn’t get me wet. Men applauding my great value and superior contributions while on their way to therapy should get me wet.

I frowned and rubbed my forearms nervously, like I could wash away the scars that way, then I moved on to the next door.

“The difference between the real walls and the fake walls are in the tiniest imperfections.” Theron said loudly and absently, like he was talking to no one, and it was just a random general statement. “I wonder if such a thing could be consistent?” He asked the sky. “If only there was some logic to this Labyrinth, but of course, there is not.” He waxed poetic. “If only—”

“Hint taken.” I yelled back, not interested in the mocking that was definitely coming next. I squinted at the patterns on each door, and that was when I noticed it. There, just above the doorknob, was a slight hitch in the pattern. A scratch on the rock that didn’t belong. I touched my fingers softly to the stone door, and my fingertips sunk into the surface. I hit a switch inside the false panel, and a loud click rang through my ears. I grabbed the knob again and gave it a twist. This time the door opened.

“I got it!” I shouted, turning to Theron before celebrating with a fist pump. He snorted, and I could tell the pursed lips were an effort to hide the smile so clearly visible in his eyes.

“Figured that out all by yourself. I’m so impressed.” He said flatly, but the accidental upturn of his lips was still obvious, completely betraying his snark. “Hopefully you’re more observant in the Blue Sector. This is when it starts to suck.”

“What do you mean? Suck how?” Hoping he might actually give up some half way useful information, I looked at him with my most pouty and sweet puppy dog eyes. Men always fell for that shit.

“On a scale of ‘sunshine-and-rainbows’ to ‘your personality,’ I’ll just say it’s not sunshine and rainbows.”

Rude.

Clever jab though, and I might have laughed if not for the fact that I was still bitter about the nail thing, and that was obviously intended as an insult.

“So it’s spectacular and sparkly then.” I shot back as I shoved open the door. I stepped through the transitional indigo opening into a corridor that was starkly blue. The temperature dropped dramatically, chilling me to the bone in a matter of seconds. I rubbed my arms and covered my chest, trying not to acknowledge my hard and prominent nipples that were poking through my thin shirt. I was a puffy-coat-when-the-weather-dipped-below-sixty-degrees kind of girl, and this was definitely way colder than that if the icicles frozen to the walls were any indication.

“I was thinking more ‘frigid and unapologetic,’ but it all depends on what you’re into.” Theron followed me through, and despite being shirtless, he seemed unfazed by the temperature change.

“A-a-a-aren’t you freezing?” I managed through my clattering teeth. My short skirt and my cute top were not my friends anymore. My only respite was that my nipples were so hard and pointy, I could probably poke someone’s eyes out if we encountered any monsters.

I took one tentative step, only to immediately realize the floor was as frozen as the walls. My feet slipped out from under me, and my life flashed before my eyes.

Theron caught me without even trying. He rolled his neck nonchalantly, sighing like he was terribly inconvenienced, while still stabilizing me by my shoulder with a very warm hand. The second he touched me, I was bombarded with the comfort of his body temperature radiating through his skin. His touch was something akin to hot chocolate in a warm mug, while his scent was still heavy with cinnamon, and that combination washed down through my core in a pleasant wave.

“Devils don’t freeze, Butterfly.” He said coolly, before he removed his hand, and the chill returned. It was almost worse having had the brief warmth and losing it than it had been to have none at all.

“W-wait.” I gasped at the shock of an icy breeze blowing through the corridors. “If you don’t need it, can I borrow your scarf at least—”

“No.” He snapped before I could finish. “No one touches my scarf.” The scowl on his face said it all. He shook his head then, with a heavy sigh, he offered me a hand. “But you can hold my hand until you’re less pathetic.” Though he grumbled, he still offered me his palm, and I still took it.

Instantly, that pleasant warmth flooded into me again, and I squeezed him softly with a smile. “Thank you.” I said, in genuine appreciation. It was a small gesture, but he didn’t have to do it.