Labyrinth Academy 1: Trials: an Urban Fantasy academy romance

by JA Wren

  “Don’t give up on us yet.”

  Not really an option. If they gave up now, she’d never get the answers she craved. Or worse. The statues would kill them both.

  Neither was a fate she was willing to take.

  She pressed her back to his and gripped the hand linked to hers, bracing herself for whatever followed. Whatever it was, they’d face it together. An unlikely team.

  Winged-woman crouched low, angling her feathered wings like twin blades either side of her stony body. Scraping and grating announced her attack—or maybe Marble-man’s attack—as stone crunched against stone with their every movement.

  Rayna was sure they were goners.

  Here lies Rayna Knox, killed by a headless, winged statue before her twenty-first birthday.

  She’d definitely be one of a kind.

  Except a wave of heat rolled over her back and shoulders. Like lying down on sunbaked tar. She turned when she should’ve focused on the woman lunging towards her. Asher’s hand, the one free from her, was clenched tight, curls of red and orange licking around his fist.

  He unfurled his fingers, arm outstretched beside him, and flames emerged.

  What.

  The.

  Fuck?

  The blaze grew, a mini-inferno wrapping around his arm and spearing down from his fingers. His skin cracked, that same fiery glow she’d sworn she saw earlier when he’d shielded her from the tsunami emerged from within him.

  More flames. Brighter. Hotter. Growing by the split second, until he held a huge sword made of fire.

  Rayna’s eyes widened. She wasn’t convinced she hadn’t imagined the whole thing. “Oh, my God.”

  Her words had barely left her lips when something pierced into her belly. Pain shot through her abdomen, hot as the fire of Asher’s flaming sword. She gasped, but shock kept her from crying out. She looked down, her hand flying to the wound in her stomach. A dark patch was growing, staining her white dress like thick red wine tipped onto her lap.

  Winged-woman stepped back, but the marble feather stayed lodged firmly inside Rayna’s lower belly.

  Don’t pull it out.

  That’s what everyone said, right? If you get stabbed, leave it in or you’ll bleed out. She couldn’t remember where she’d heard that, but she’d lost too much blood earlier to risk spilling more.

  Distantly, she felt Asher moving behind her, but the sounds were muffled by the hollow thud in her ears.

  A coarse roar echoed.

  Marble-man, she assumed.

  Winged-woman stood rigid, posture relaxed yet poised. Like she waited for the next opportunity to strike. Or maybe for Rayna to fall to her death. Black spots danced in front of her eyes, proving it was a distinct possibility.

  But if she fell, Asher would have one hell of a dead weight to lug around while he fought off both statues.

  Rayna was feeling pretty damn useless, not something she was used to, never having thought of herself as a damsel type of woman. Too bad she couldn’t wield a fiery sword—she wasn’t even allowing herself to think too hard about that. Not now.

  Hell, she’d even take a pair of wings. Not that they’d do her much good while she was bound to Asher, but—

  Her thoughts broke off with an oof as Asher’s shoulder crashed into her.

  Right.

  Time for her to do something—anything—to help him instead of daydreaming about imaginary wings. She refused to be useless. Refused to go down without a fight. Even if that only meant helping Asher move easier.

  She stepped away from his back, hopefully giving him better range of motion. Better balance. He swung the flaming sword at Marble-man and sliced off the huge fist wrapped in chains. The guy wailed, apparently not getting the memo he was made of stone. Not flesh and blood, knitted together with millions of nerve endings.

  Something Rayna was painfully familiar with as her body started to go cold. Numb from the blood seeping from her.

  Asher spun, skillfully twisting and Rayna followed as best she could, ignoring the awakened pain lancing her torso. Before he could cut into the woman, she took flight, vanishing into the black void above.

  At least now they only had to deal with a one-handed Marble-man.

  Too bad he’d broken free from his dais. If he was stuck in one spot it would be so much easier to counter his moves. Use his own chains against him.

  The dais.

  While Asher struck with the sword, the two men—she used that term loosely—battling it out, Rayna squinted at the dais and could have sworn something orange glowed within the marble, different from the glittering gold veins.

  Sparks glinted off Asher’s fiery blade as it crashed into marble, sending fine shards sailing through the air.

  “Can you get us closer to the dais?” she yelled at Asher.

  He grunted, but slowly edged Marble-man in the right direction.

  There!

  A rune or a sigil—she couldn’t tell the difference—glowed like the ones on the ice wall. A different color, but unmistakably similar. If she could get close enough to touch it, maybe it would make the statues immobile again. Like clicking their off switch. Even better, maybe they’d shatter into a million pieces.

  Either way, it was worth trying if it might bring them one step closer to getting out of this mess.

  Asher still battled the Marble-man, working them closer to the dais, but Rayna was having trouble following the fight. Her vision was fading, growing darker with every beat of her heart. The black spots crowded in and she swore everything was tinged with red.

  Probably the reflection of her blood in the fiery light.

  Or maybe because her necklace had started to glow again, Tink making her presence known even though she wasn’t allowed to help them.

  Asher jerked so far to the right, he sent Rayna crashing into the hedge, branches scratching her skin and poking into the wound in her belly. The feather embedded in her flesh shifted, wedging deeper. She gritted her teeth against the fresh agony, the intense burn scorching her nerves.

  A chain-wrapped fist flew at them, and Asher pulled them from the hedge at the last second. Pain seared through her, but the move brought them right in front of the dais.

  “Can you keep him off me for a minute?” she asked, gaze scanning the intricate symbol pulsing brighter orange.

  “Isn’t that what I’ve been doing?”

  Okay, he had a point.

  Rayna pressed her bloodied palm to the symbol, bracing for the agonizing burn. But nothing happened. No sparks. No electric shock. Nothing. She rubbed her hand on a clean-ish part of her dress, then tried again.

  Nothing.

  “Rayna, it’s kind of hard to fight when I can’t move.”

  “Give me another thirty seconds.” She placed the tip of one finger on the symbol, then slammed her fist into the thing, but no matter how she touched it—light or forcefully—the orange glow didn’t even flicker. “Shit.”

  In desperation, she pulled her other hand closer, the one tethered to Asher, grimacing when he cursed behind her.

  “Sorry.” Even as she called over her shoulder, she pressed both her palms to the symbol. It glowed brighter, pulsing with a hint of warmth, but stopped when Asher jerked away, obviously needing better range of motion.

  Of course.

  Marble-man wasn’t her challenge. He was Asher’s.

  “Give me your damn hand back.”

  “Little busy with it.”

  Her vision was growing darker, everything tinged black and red. “Just trust me. Please.”

  She expected him to argue, but instead, he held out his hand, awkwardly defending himself with the other. He raised his flaming sword right as Rayna pressed his fingers to the glowing symbol.

  It sparked and crackled, and Asher roared in pain. Rayna looked over her shoulder with a wince, suspecting he was experiencing the same burn she had earlier. The one that felt like your entire arm was being dipped in acid.

  Marble-man crumbled, his form disi
ntegrating like a sand castle falling in on itself until he was nothing but a pile of dust on the cobble path.

  Rayna sagged, her body losing the fragile strength she had left.

  “How did you—?”

  Asher’s question was broken off as Winged-woman descended, her feathery weapons aiming for Asher. Rayna did the only thing she could—hip-checked him out of the way so she’d take the full brunt of the statue’s attack.

  She was likely bleeding out anyway. Might as well save the hot guy on her way out of this world.

  She raised her hands, stretching them out in front of her like a feeble shield, and squinted through the intense haze of black and red coiling around her like smoke.

  Then waited for impact.

  But it never came.

  She blinked, assuming Asher had cleaved the winged statue in two or something. But as her vision finally cleared, the smoky haze wafting away on a breeze, she stared at the fallen statue. Winged-woman had turned to a pile of blackened ash, the lone end of a marble feather the only discerning feature.

  Had—had Asher burned her? Could marble turn to ash?

  She didn’t want to confront the other possibility. Not yet. Not when she was in the damn labyrinth to get answers in the first place.

  “Rayna?” Asher panted behind her.

  “I didn’t do it.” She rushed out, memories of her blackened bed. The apartment and all the dead plants. The—no, don’t go there. “At least I—I didn’t mean to. I don’t think. Please. I didn’t mean to. I won’t do it again.”

  He tried to turn her to face him, but she was staring at the remains of the woman. “Hey. You remember she was attacking us, right? You were defending yourself. Besides, she’s made of stone. She wouldn’t feel it.”

  Her eyes watered. Either from pain and regret or because she hadn’t blinked for too long. “But…it’s weird. Not normal.”

  “Yeah,” he whispered in her ear, hands sliding over either side of her waist. So warm. So full of life. So much hotter than her icy body. “Because it’s so normal to summon a flaming—”

  He broke off, his hands meeting the wetness coating her dress. He stilled at her back.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she managed to get out through her trembling lips. “There wasn’t time.”

  He gently—with slow and infinite care—eased her around, then stared at her wound with insanely wide, coppery eyes. He looked haunted, like he was a million miles away, far from her, yet held to her by their bound wrists. And the tears gathering in his eyes.

  She reached up and touched his temple, skin hotter than ever as she stared into his glimmering eyes. “Brown’s gone again. Do they change when…?”

  Rayna couldn’t give voice to what had happened. She barely understood it herself.

  Asher swallowed thickly, his throat working hard, then licked his lips. She wanted to taste them one last time, before her world grew black forever, but his features hardened as he met her eyes.

  “Rayna.” There was so much hidden in just her name, his voice low and filled with emotion he should not be experiencing after one night together. “Listen to me carefully, okay?” He waited until she gave a faint nod, then slipped one hand around the stone feather. “I need to pull this out and cauterize the wound. It’s going to hurt like a son of a bitch, but it’s the only way.”

  She wasn’t sure there was any real hope, but she couldn’t say no. Not with him looking at her like she was his entire world. “Kiss me first.”

  His lip twitched at the same time a tear escaped and rolled down his cheek. “After. I promise.”

  She let out a shuddery breath, bracing for the coming pain.

  “I’m sorry, love.”

  In a flash, he yanked the feather from her stomach and she screamed.

  Nine

  Fire engulfed Rayna.

  It burned a path from her stomach, through her torso, and out to every inch of her. The rancid scent of burning flesh teased her nose and threatened to pull that damn pastry from her stomach. She swallowed back the need to vomit, imagining how much worse that would make the agony.

  Her vision blackened until it was all she saw. A void of inkiness surrounded her, blotting Asher out.

  And then, thankfully, the pain with it.

  She cooled.

  Like dipping into a pool on a hot summer’s day.

  Her body relaxed. Muscles and skin soothed.

  Rayna blinked her eyes open, greeted by the most gorgeous face she’d ever seen. Copper flecks sparked in the deep brown irises, and that lone dimple haunted her, not quite there but promising to make an appearance.

  She touched Asher’s cheek, amazed she was lucid enough to feel the rough stubble beneath her palm.

  “Am I dead?”

  A weird croaky laugh rumbled through him. “Not this time, love.”

  “Good. I wasn’t ready to go just then.”

  He pushed her hair back and she realized she was lying back on the cobble path, marble rubble all around them. Her crystal necklace was glowing again, brighter than ever, and she patted it with limp fingers. “I’m okay, Tink. I think I’m alive. For now.”

  “Forever,” Asher growled.

  Rayna glanced around at the chaos, broken and blackened stone everywhere. “No sign of the giant or the pain-in-the-butt trio?”

  He shook his head. “I’m guessing we need to move on before they consider the trial completed. Your theory, remember?”

  She squinted at the path ahead, where the other Wisps were still lighting the way. Ugh. It looked too far away. A thousand steps for her shaky body. But at least she was still mostly in one piece. If she made it out of the maze, those damn answers better be worth all this suffering.

  Especially after what she’d done to Winged-woman. No more denying there was something fucked up going on with her. She needed to know exactly what it was before she did anything worse.

  Rayna eased to a sitting position, Asher supporting her the entire way, looking far too handsome for his own good. She remembered the promise he’d given her moments before she’d passed out. “Is it time for my kiss?”

  That earned a genuine smile. “Don’t you think it’s a little too soon after—”

  She sealed her lips over his, done talking about it. He’d promised a kiss when she got through whatever the hell he’d done to staunch the bleeding in her belly. She was ready to collect.

  He groaned, mouth moving against hers softly. Tentatively.

  “More,” she mumbled into his mouth.

  He deepened the kiss at her demand, parting his lips. Rayna sank her hand into his hair, the soft strands flecked with marble splinters. She didn’t care. She needed him closer. Pressed against every inch of her.

  She licked his bottom lip, nipped it, and earned a guttural moan that vibrated into her. If this was her reward for almost dying, she’d happily do it again. As long as it was Asher bringing her back from the brink.

  He clutched her closer, still so careful with her even as he pulled her into him. Warmth spread through every part of her, so very different from the painful fire when he’d cauterized her wound.

  This was like chocolate melting on her tongue.

  Sweet. Rich. And sending pleasure through her entire body to replace every lick of pain.

  He pulled away much too soon. Rayna bit her bottom lip, savoring the taste of him. His eyes stayed glued to the movement even as he panted and tugged her hand from around his neck. “We need to go. We can’t do this here. Besides, you’re still healing.”

  “I feel fine.” And it was true. The pain had receded, the fire gone and leaving nothing but residual warmth and a pleasant hum.

  He tucked her hair behind her ear. “We have time.”

  She knew he had a point, but her body still longed for his.

  Asher rose to his feet, then slowly helped her follow. Considering she’d been stabbed in the gut, partly bled out, and then been burned alive, she felt pretty darn good. Not I-can-run-a-marathon
-good, but better than she expected after nearly dying.

  Even still, Asher fussed over her like a mother hen, and she found it ridiculously cute. A big, alpha-type being all sweet and careful with her fragile body. She didn’t tell him that. He might not appreciate the cuteness of it all. And as good as she felt, she needed her manly-crutch to get across the pile of marble rocks to the other side.

  She wavered, her boots wobbling over the tiniest stone, but together, they slowly made it to where the Wisp-lanterns lit the path ahead.

  Rayna panted from the physical exertion and Asher held her steady while they waited for the giant to appear. But he didn’t. Minutes ticked by and nothing. No trio of girls or old hags.

  “Maybe we need to go deeper into the labyrinth,” she suggested.

  Asher hummed, not quite agreeing but not denying her either.

  With every step, her body felt better, somehow knitting together faster than she’d expected. She didn’t know how far they’d walked, him supporting her like a human crutch, when Asher suddenly jerked to a halt. He held his hand out like a parent to a child in a car when they slammed on brakes. “Stop.”

  “What?”

  “Shh!”

  His huge hand covered her mouth, the other banding—carefully—around her stomach to hold her to him as he backed up against the hedge. Her shoulder blades to his chest, he whispered, breath tickling her ear, “Something’s following us.”

  Her eyes widened. Something. Not someone. That distinction freaked her out even more than the unknown threat.

  His body heated around her, like a furnace cocooning her until a sheen of sweat broke out over her skin. She scanned the cobble path, but there was no sign anything else existed except for the Wisp-lanterns.

  A howl pierced the air, a haunting wail that sent a shiver down her spine and popped goose bumps over her slickened skin.

  “We need to move,” Asher growled.

  He bolted into action, letting her body go and grabbing her hand instead, the one bound to him. They ran, as fast as Rayna could to keep up with him, heading deeper into the labyrinth.

  Was this the next challenge, sans Giant-guy and the trio?

  “I don’t think I can do this,” she whimpered, mostly to herself. She’d barely survived the previous challenges, and something told her the next would be harder. Far more terrifying.