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Chapter

Twenty-Six

T he night swells with a pulse that feels alive, the air seeming to crackle with magic.

The circus has shifted, stretched. What was once a single tent has expanded into a sprawling carnival of forbidden wonders.

Tents of deep burgundy and black rise like jagged peaks against the velvet night, their entrances yawning with golden light that flickers like fire.

The music, once playful and bright, has become something darker, a low thrum that hums under the skin.

“I will meet you at the carriage,” Gwyneth says as she stands.

“Are you sure? I can come with you.”

“Stay and have fun,” she encourages.

“But I thought—” Charming starts.

“You thought wrong,” she snaps as she steps down and makes her way toward the exit. He sighs and trudges after her.

“Sir Sweeps-A-Lot, chaperone my sister. If Charming lays a hand on her, beat his face with your wood.” The broom stands upright like he’s saluting me before zipping away to follow them. “Will they be okay?” I ask the twins.

Malachi grabs my hand and tugs me down the steps. “Your sister is the most capable maiden I’ve ever met. I’m not worried, are you?”

I shake my head. Truly, I am not worried. Gwyneth can handle a dozen poopfloofs with one hand tied behind her back.

“Then let’s go explore,” Hart says. His breath tickles my nape, making the hairs on my arms prickle before the two of them melt into the throng.

The heat of the carnival wraps around me like a living thing, its scents of spice, smoke, and something heady I can’t place lingering in the back of my throat.

I step cautiously into the pressing horde and onto a path lit by lanterns shaped like grinning masks, their flickering shadows seeming to leer at me.

Somewhere in the crowd, they linger, their gazes pressing against my back like a phantom touch. Hart, with his quiet intensity, the curve of his lips like a secret he might whisper if I dared to get too close. And Malachi, brash and bold, his laugh a weapon he wields like a blade.

I turn a corner, my pace quickening. Another tent looms ahead, its entrance draped in heavy velvet curtains embroidered with silver thread. Above the doorway, in letters that shift and shimmer, the sign reads: The Labyrinth of Reflection. I hesitate for a heartbeat before slipping inside.

The air changes the moment I cross the threshold.

Laughter and music from outside become muffled, replaced by an eerie stillness broken only by the soft rustle of fabric and the faint sound of my breathing.

The walls of the labyrinth rise high around me, shimmering panes of glass and mirrored surfaces that stretch endlessly in all directions.

My reflection stares back at me, multiplied a hundredfold.

The gold thread in my outfit glitters under the strange light that seems to come from nowhere and everywhere.

I press a hand to one mirror, and my reflection presses back, but there’s something…

off. My mirrored self smiles a second too late, the curve of her lips too sharp, too knowing.

A whisper echoes through the maze, low and sinuous. “Daphne…” I spin, my breath catching, but there’s no one there.

Another whisper, this one closer. “Why do you run from us?”

My heart pounds as I turn again. Malachi and Hart’s reflections appear, multiplying and distorting in the endless mirrors. Malachi’s green eyes catch mine, and even through the glass, his gaze is searing.

“We’ve found you,” Hart says, his voice laced with a teasing edge. His reflection moves closer, though I can’t tell if it’s real or another trick of the maze. “You can’t hide in here, Daphne. Not from us.”

“I’m not hiding,” I shoot back, though my voice wavers.

Malachi steps into view, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he has all the time in the world. “Then why are you trembling?”

“I’m not,” I lie, my fingers curling into the fabric of my pants.

The maze shifts around me, the mirrors rippling like water. The reflections of the twins close in, surrounding me from all sides. Hart’s voice comes from everywhere and nowhere. “You know why we’re here, don’t you?”

Malachi’s laughter follows, warm and wicked. “You feel it too, don’t you, Daphne? This pull between us? Like gravity.”

I back into a mirrored wall, my breath quickening. Their reflections crowd me, and for a moment, I swear I can feel Malachi’s hand brush my shoulder, though he’s still standing several feet away.

“Stop playing games,” I demand, though my voice lacks conviction.

Hart tilts his head, his smirk widening. “But you like games, don’t you?”

The maze shifts again, and suddenly, Malachi is there, impossibly close, his reflection bleeding into reality. His fingers trail along my arm, light as a whisper, but enough to send a shiver down my spine.

“You could choose one of us,” he murmurs, his voice low, intimate. “Or neither. Or both.”

Hart appears on my other side, leaning close enough that his breath brushes my ear. “Both has a certain appeal, doesn’t it?”

My heart races, my thoughts tangling as the mirrors close in around us.

The maze seems alive, pulsing with the same dangerous energy that radiates from the twins.

I push away, but my movements only press me deeper into the labyrinth, the walls narrowing, the light dimming.

It’s no secret that I want all the brothers, but deep down I worry I am being selfish, needy, unfair to them.

Society will always judge us, glare down their noses, but that has always been true for me.

I am being unfair subjecting them to the same.

Then again, they have free will. They can walk away from me at any point, refuse to be part of whatever is growing between us.

Their reflections surround me, their voices a tantalizing echo in my mind, forcing my muddled thoughts to scatter into the night. I wish I could lose all inhibitions and not worry about balance, fairness, who is doing what. Just follow my heart.

“Stay,” Malachi says softly.

“Run,” Hart challenges, his grin flashing like a blade. “I dare you.”

I stand frozen in the labyrinth of reflections, caught between shadow and desire, my heart pounding like the steady thrum of the circus beyond.

I lick my lips, spying another smaller tent ahead, the entrance dark, and the sign above claiming it to be the depth of a thousand nights. The promise of a thousand sins seems apt for a room promising a thousand nights.

Hart’s hands ghost over my shoulders, causing a shiver to run down my spine. “What do you think, Calamity? A sin for each of the nights?”

“And how many can we commit in just one evening?” Malachi whispers from my side.

A thousand sins between the arms of my knights? If a pair of them committed a sin with me every night, that would take an entire annus. It’s a dirty job, but I’m just the maiden to do it.

“Happy hunting, boys.” I smirk at them before dashing away, their dark laughter doing funny things to my floof. Darting a glance over my shoulder, I find Hart and Malachi striding side by side, stalking me, their gazes heavy with desire.

Oh Idols.

I step inside the tent. Unlike the shadows of the night, here, all light disappears, like it simply doesn’t exist in this vortex. All that remains is the throbbing heat in my veins and the steady boom boom boom of my heart in my chest.

I could retreat from this place, join my sister in the carriage, and go back to the palace.

It’s probably what I should do. But tonight, I am not Daphne the clumsy, nor the Lady of the Lake doomed to a brief life once she fulfils her destiny.

I’m not even a maiden who weighs down her sister.

I am theirs, and they are mine. It’s freeing, seductive, invigorating.

With my hands stretched out in front of me, I stumble around in the vast space. My fingers graze fabric and I jerk back, sucking in a breath.

“Careful, Calamity,” Hart hisses in my ear. I spin, my hands outstretched to grab him, but meet air.

Someone clicks their tongue from over my shoulder. “Poor Daphne, hunted through the night by knights with sin on their minds.”

“I can’t sin if I can’t touch you,” I grumble.

Large warm hands fall to my hips, and a body presses against my back, while another surrounds my front.

“You hear that, brother? She wants to sin,” Hart says. I can’t tell if he’s at my front or back.

“And we live to serve,” Malachi agrees. The hands on my hips slide down my legs before teasing the ribbon of my pants and tugging it open.

Anyone could find us in here. What are they doing? I open my mouth to voice my protest, but one of them covers it with their own, kissing away my protests. I relax in their arms, my body melting under their touch as my pants fall to the floor in a whisper of silk.

“Relax. No one can see you,” Hart murmurs in my ear.

My hearing intensifies, drawing in breaths of arousal and the soft slide of fabric.

Clearly, others are finding their confidence under the cover of darkness.

It’s forbidden to be in the same room as others enjoying carnal pleasures, but it makes my skin hum with excitement, and a swirling heat dampens my panties with need.

“Do you want to leave?” Malachi asks. “Say the word, and we will get you out of here.”

Do I? I should. But no, and I refuse to lie to myself or to them. “No,” I whisper.

“Thank you, Idols,” Hart mutters.

I think he is behind me, his calloused fingers dipping inside my top to play with my nipples.

My breasts become heavy, aching, and an insistent throb hums in my clit.

That tiny little piece of flesh that creates a maelstrom of embers.

That’s where I need one of them to touch.

Malachi’s mouth covers my nipple, and he sucks and nips and bites my entire breast, before doing the same with the other one.

Hart drags his teeth and tongue down my neck, enjoying the way my pulse bounces against his lips.