Escaping Destiny (The Fae Chronicles, #3)

It all changed as we got further into the maze. It was worse than a fun house. Grey clouds rolled in above us, as thunder clapped so loudly in the sky, it rattled our teeth. The tall maze shrubbery changed into wicked looking thorn bushes, which twisted and tangled around us.

Ristan hissed and cut through thick tendrils of thorns that threatened the path. “Horror may have been the wrong choice,” he said after a few more branches pushed in front of us, blocking our way.

“It was the only one that didn’t sound tempting. I’ve learned never to take the easy way out of anything; it always ends up with people dying. Pleasure, don’t get me wrong, I like it, but I’m not taking any path that leads to pleasure with you or the Goddess.”

“Good point,” he said with a short laugh before he started whacking at another vine.

We followed the path for what felt like hours before we finally came to another fork, and another piece of vellum. We stayed there for a little bit, and I was pretty sure it was Ristan’s way of making sure I rested. He took his time before he read the slip of vellum.

“To find the goal, you must concentrate, for within these walls there is one at stake. Which path would you prefer to take? Death, or life, the choice is yours, but keep in mind, even immortals can make mistakes.”

“I say we cut a path right down the fucking middle and kill anything that moves,” I growled.

Ristan raised a brow and whistled. “Damn, Flower. That almost made me hard. Shock me with that blood thirsty little inner vixen.” He smiled and helped me to my feet.

“You choose, Demon. There is no right path on this one.” I sighed. Life or death? I chose life, but I had a feeling it was a wrong choice.

“Life,” Ristan said. “We choose life, Synthia. Some things are worth fighting our way through.”

The moment we stepped foot on the path to Life, everything turned dead. Shit. I felt sick, and instantly bent over and started retching my guts out onto the path. Ristan grabbed me quickly and stepped back into the fork for the paths.

“You’re okay, I got you.”

I felt Ristan’s hands touching me, but Ryder’s comfort filling me as I emptied my stomach until nothing was left. “Death,” I said and sat back against the Demon, who had sat behind me to comfort me as I spewed my guts up.

“Death,” he agreed. “Let me know when you are ready.”

“I’m ready, Demon. Let’s show this bitch who is boss.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, and helped get me back to my feet once more.

Death was lit from within, and beautiful. Roses had grown on the vines, and the sun had taken place of the clouded skies. “From death comes new life,” I whispered as I watched birds fly together, and butterflies as big as my head fluttered around us.

“No more easy ways. From here on out, you choose.”

“We choose together,” I said, and palmed the blades at my sides.

“Together,” he agreed.

“Ryder is trying to help us,” I said after we’d been walking for a while.

“No, he’s helping you. He’s freaking out and can feel your unease. He is connected to you, and he feels everything you do right now. Trust me, he’s only cussing me out and threatening to geld my boys every time you feel afraid, or pain.”

“Good to know,” I muttered as something shot past my head.

“Fuck!” Ristan shouted, and took me to the ground.





Chapter Twenty-Eight





“Don’t move,” Ristan muttered as his immense body held me against the ground. “Someone just tried to blow your head off,” he growled from deep in his chest.

“No shit, Sherlock,” I mouthed, and felt pain throbbing in my shoulder. I kept it to myself, but had a feeling Ryder would be cussing up a storm soon. Sure enough, within a second, Ristan stiffened up.

“Dammit, Synthia! You’re hit,” he snarled as he rolled off me, and looked at my shoulder.

“I’m fine; it’s a flesh wound.” I turned and glared at him. “Tell that fucking Fairy to shut it. It hurts and burns like the fires of Hades, but I’ll live.”

“Let me see,” he said and moved to sit up.

“Stay down! Someone is still shooting at us,” I whispered vehemently.

“Good point,” he said, and lifted his head over my chest to look across the twisted vines of blood red roses. “Stay put, Flower. I’m going hunting.”

“You’re leaving me here?” I complained.

“Well yes. You are shot, and I have a very angry Horde King in my head telling me to gut the mother fucker who did it.”

“Fine. I’ll be here, in the bushes, on the ground. Just laying here, waiting for you to come back with your big manly self.”

He snorted and shook his thick mane of hair. “Promises, promises.” He kissed my cheek and left me on the ground. “Stay put, Princess, while I go slay the beast.”

“Now who is making promises?” I teased to take off the edge of being planted on the ground with a painful shoulder. The bullet had only grazed me, though, and I was more worried about being left on the ground than I was anything else.

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