Page 137 of The Golden Rose Of Valenul

“No,” he breathed. “Markus killed my mother, and then he tried to kill me—my father, the Crowe, saved Madan and me and raised us.”

She held her head and squeezed her eyes shut. None of it made sense. “Stop lying.”

“I swear to you—”

“You told me you loved me,” she said, shoving him aside to reach the handle. She ripped the door open and hurried down the hall away from him. Away from the pain which throbbed through her soul.

He did not try to stop her, but he followed. “I do. I love you so much, Ariadne.”

She reached the foyer where several servants stood, called by the rise of voices. They looked on as Azriel grappled for her wrist, and she yanked away. He let her go as though her skin were alight with flames. “Do not touch me.”

“Please listen to me,” he begged. “Let me explain.”

“Petre.” She turned to the butler, ignoring her husband—if she could even call him that. “The carriage. Immediately.”

“Of course, my Lady.” Petre bowed, glanced uncertainly at Azriel, then left.

The others shifted nervously before slinking away down the halls. A lover’s quarrel was all they saw. They could not know or understand the depths of the deception laid upon her life.

She needed to get away. To get away from the man she thought she loved and could not even look at.

“You can’t go.” Azriel’s voice broke behind her.

Ariadne turned to find him on his knees in the middle of the foyer. His green eyes—damn her, those eyes which still made her breath catch—shone silver. “And why not? It is only you who can do what you will with someone’s life?”

“No,” he gasped. “If you leave, I can’t protect you. They’ll come after you, just like Madan.”

She stepped back to the front door and felt for the handle. “I’ll be protected.”

His eyes widened with understanding, tears sliding down the damp paths on his cheeks. He shook his head again and again. “Don’t.”

“The General will keep me safe.”

Because now she understood Loren’s reservations. He had been right the entire time, and she should have listened. Of the two of them, the General had always been the better choice. At least he had never lied.

“Ariadne, please—”

She turned from him, opened the door, and paused. “You were wrong, by the way.”

“What?”

Without looking back, she said, “I hate you more than you hate yourself,” and slammed the door behind her.

Chapter 30

The world crashed around him. It burned. It swallowed Azriel into depths darker than he could’ve ever imagined possible. The very foundation of his existence walked out the door and left him in ruins of his own making.

And that only made it worse—he’d done it to himself.

So he curled in on himself, arms wrapped tight about his body. He rocked back and forth, unable to contain the sheer agony ripping through him. His entire soul shattered.

Without Ariadne, he was nothing.

I hate you more than you hate yourself.

The words played in his mind again and again. Whether spoken from fear or anger, it didn’t matter. She had every right to think the worst of him. He’d done nothing to retain her trust, and marrying her despite their history only proved her right.

I hate you…

---