Chapter Text
She needed to take a breath.
Just a few minutes away from the party, away from the prying, awful eyes of the revellers, away from Locke's smiles, away from the scent of the heavy wine, purple as a bruise. She needed just a few minutes away from all this, just a few minutes inside the hedge maze, far away from its centre, where no one has ventured yet, where the sounds of the party become distant and where there's only the earthy scent of the green leaves, shining under the moonlight, as though damp with secret tears.
Jude just wanted a few moments alone. She definitely didn't want to stumble across him.
Sprawled on the ground, leaning against a hedge wall, Cardan looks just like a Prince from a fairytale, raised on debauchery and wine. His eyes are half-closed, the bottle in his hands is almost empty and his mouth is stained with Nevermore, golden as the rings adorning his fingers.
Jude hasn't seen him leave the party. But then again, she has made a point of not looking at him since she had locked eyes with him as he was being kissed by two fairies.
She tells herself to move forward. He looks so intoxicated, Jude wouldn't be surprised if he had forgotten his own name. He has probably not seen her yet, and Jude is not in the mood for a quarrel right now.
But, as she tries to walk past him, he speaks. He may have very well forgotten his own name, but he certainly hasn't forgotten hers. "Jude."
She stops. She doesn't remember if he has ever said her name before.
"Did you get lost?" His voice is deep, his mouth moving slowly, as though he is trying his hardest not to slur his words. Even drunk, his lips manage to form a taunting smirk.
Jude really is in no mood for a quarrel. But that doesn't mean that she can walk away now. If she does, Cardan might think that she is scared of him, scared to stay here, alone with him, where nobody would hear if she screamed.
And Jude is most definitely not scared of him.
"I was merely taking a walk," she says, willing her voice cold.
"Why alone?"
She glowers at him. "So that nobody would annoy me with idle questions."
Cardan laughs, and Jude is stunned into silence. It is not a derisive laugh. She had no idea that he could laugh like this. She had no idea that he could laugh at something other than someone's misery.
He must be drunker than she previously thought.
"Did you run away from Locke?" he asks, struggling to stand, his hands grasping the vines behind him. "I wouldn't blame you if you did."
Jude had thought that it felt weird to be at Locke's party, to stay there with him and his friends, to laugh and to drink as though she had not a care in the world. But hearing Cardan talk to her like this, as if she were one of his friends, feels even weirder.
"I didn't run away from him." Jude doesn't know whether it is the glass of wine she drank earlier that night, or if it is the moon casting a secret light on them, a light like a promise of privacy, like a suspended second. But she doesn't stop talking, doesn't turn around to leave. "I just needed to clear my head."
Cardan lets his head fall against the wall behind him. "You seemed to have fun with him."
His voice takes on a strange note, and Jude can't help but look at him curiously.
He seems to notice this. In the blink of an eye, his whole demeanour changes. His mouth curves again mockingly, making him look more like himself. "But maybe you didn't run away from him. Maybe he just wanted you gone," he whispers, his words like poison.
Jude's cheeks heat, but she is glad to be reminded of who he really is. "Is this your attempt at making me feel small? As far as I can tell, I'm not the one sulking in a corner, drinking myself silly."
Cardan frowns. "I'm not sulking."
"You definitely are. You look sad, and pathetic, and if you were a little less horrible, I might feel sorry for you." The words leave her in a rush, and Jude is a little surprised at the menace coating them.
But she shouldn't be. Cardan seems to bring out the worst in her.
Cardan pushes off the wall. He sits straighter, as though all the alcohol has suddenly left his body. "You need not feel sorry for me, for I am not sulking."
"Then what were you doing here?"
He gestures vaguely behind him. "I was drinking."
Jude curls her lips. "Yes, but why weren't you drinking at the actual party?"
"I was." Cardan raises one finger, pointing it at her. "Locke said his party was in the maze, and this little corner here is in the maze."
Jude rolls her eyes. This has gone far enough.
She turns around, ready to return to the party. But his words stop her once again.
"I can drink wherever I like. But you cannot go around exploring the maze on your own."
Jude scoffs, turning to face him. "Why not?"
A slow smile spreads on his lips. His head drops slightly forward, his eyes never leaving hers, his dark curls falling over his forehead. "You can never know what lurks in the dark."
Jude's stomach flips.
Cardan prowls closer to her, a dangerous glint in his gold-rimmed eyes. "It's not safe for mortals to be on their own here." His steps are slow, deliberate. "You might encounter someone with very ill intentions." Jude moves backwards, until her back touches the vines behind her. "Someone who wishes you no good."
He is very close now. His breath smells of sour wine, his pupils are awfully wide.
She isn't scared, she tells herself. She definitely isn't scared of Cardan.
One long finger comes up, soflty tugging on her string of rowan berries, and she remembers that he can do her no harm. She stops herself from smiling. She almost wishes that he would rip her necklace and then try to charm her, just so he would see that he has no power over her.
But, instead of tugging harder on the string, his hand moves upwards, wrapping around her neck.
Jude's heart beats faster, and one of her hands moves towards her thigh, towards a small knife strapped under her dress.
But she doesn't get to use it. Instead of squeezing, instead of trying to choke her to death, Cardan just uses his thumb to move her head slightly to the side.
Jude is without words as Cardan drops his head in the crook of her neck, his tongue dragging from the base of her throat all the way to her ear.
She freezes and Cardan hums. He softly nips at her ear, and Jude closes her eyes against the sudden, sharp spike of desire.
She doesn't know what he is doing. She doesn't know why he is doing what he is doing. She only knows that his palm is burning on her neck, that the hand that was going for her knife is now gripping the vines behind her, so hard her nails dig into the plant, her fingers now wet with sap. She only knows that she should push him away, that certainly he is doing this only to frighten her, only to humiliate her. She only knows that her head falls to the side, that her stomach is in knots, that his mouth moves on her skin hungrier than Locke's mouth ever has, that the hot, wet stripes he leaves on her neck make her pulse spike faster than any touch from Locke has ever done.
Cardan's hand is now gripping her jaw. He rests his other hand on her waist, heavy and warm on her dress.
He's only trying to make fun of her, Jude thinks. But they way his lips suck on her skin, the way his fingers tighten around her waist, fisting the fabric of her dress, feels far from mockery.
He wants her.
"But you seem to have no self-preservation," Cardan rasps against her neck, waking her from her stupor.
Her hand leaves the hedge behind her, lifting her dress until her fingers touch her knife. She takes it out and, in the blink of an eye, she presses the blade against his neck, spinning them around until his back collides with the wall.
A soft grunt leaves his lips, and he gazes down at her with wide eyes, his mouth slightly parted.
Jude leans in closer, until their lips almost touch. She watches in astonishment as Cardan's eyelashes flutter, as his lips part further, as though inviting her to get a taste.
She is surprised to find that she wants to get a taste.
Shame burns her throat as she murmurs against his mouth, her lips brushing against his with every word.
"I'm the most dangerous thing in this maze."
He opens his eyes suddenly, his gaze going straight to her mouth.
She expects him to laugh at her and at her silly words. She expects him to make a comment about how she was mere moments ago, soft and boneless in his arms.
But Cardan just stares at her, his eyes taking on an angry glint, as though it was her fault for all that had happened in this quiet corner of the maze.
Jude plasters on a smile and walks away, trying to stop her hands from shaking and her mind from replaying his soft, yearning kisses.