Page 120 of Labyrinthine
This isn’t comfort. This is consequence.
Just a day ago, I’d chosen him. Last night, I’d defended him. Today, I’m not sure what I’ve done. Or why.
And gods help me, I still want Mallen to tell me I didn’t have to. That it was all a test. That he’d forgive me anyway.
But he’s not here.
And I made my decision.
“You shouldn’t feel ashamed,” Darian says gently. “You made a hard choice.”
I nod, because I don’t know what else to do.
“He was my friend,” I say, voice catching on the word as tears slip down without permission.
Darian’s jaw tightens. “No, Azhara. He wasn’t.”
The words cut, not because they’re cruel, but because they’re true—and I’ve known it. Gods, I’ve always known it.
But knowing and accepting are not the same.
He was the one who kept the monsters at bay. Who showed me where to aim and when to run. Who stood behind me like a wall no one else could see. My protector. My shadow. The one person who knew the truth and didn’t look away.
He was everything in a place that gave me nothing.
And I betrayed him.
The image of his face—bloodied, stunned, hollow—won’t leave me. It plays behind my eyes like a punishment. I want to scream, but all that comes is silence and salt.
“He was a monster,” Darian says carefully, watching me like he’s afraid to press too hard. “The sooner you can see that, the better.”
My gaze drops. “He might not be dead.”
The bitterness slips in before I can soften it.
Darian tenses. His fingers flex hard on the reins. For a second, he doesn’t speak. Doesn’t blink.
“That would be...inconvenient,” he mutters, too low for anyone else to hear.
Then, as if catching himself, he softens his tone.
“Do you regret it?”
I don’t answer. Not with words.
Instead, I turn forward. The road stretches on—unchanging, silent, cruel. It offers nothing but distance and dust, no absolution and certainly no answers. I can’t turn back. I wouldn’t even know how.
Mallen carried darkness, but he never let it drown me. He never screamed at me without reason. Never struck first. He hated Darian—yes—but that rage was never for me. All I knewwas his restraint, and the way he never let me fall, even when he was the one who put me on the edge.
He taught me to fight, not so I could kill, but so I could survive. So I could become something dangerous in a world that chewed girls like me to pieces. When the palace crushed me, he was the one who stitched me back together.
He made me strong enough to betray him.
Darian reaches over, his fingers brushing mine. I let him take my hand again, even though it feels wrong. His warmth doesn’t reach me.
He waits—soft, silent, patient. The opposite of Mallen in every way.
Darian doesn’t press, like the answer is mine to give. He’s gentle where Mallen was relentless. Careful where Mallen cut deep. And gods, I know he’s trying. He’s trying to make this easier.
