Page 156 of The Golden Rose Of Valenul

“Stop it,” she said, voice steadier than she expected. “You will be fine.”

She wrapped her arm under him again, and they started toward the door, slower than when they had begun in the cellar. Madan’s feet shuffled. His broken leg buckled under his weight, and it took all of her strength to keep him upright through the guard house door.

Outside, Ariadne reeled to a halt. A half-dozen guards ran toward them. Why? Did they see what she had done?

“Forgive my stupid brother,” Madan croaked, his body slumping toward the ground. “Let me go.”

She turned wide eyes to him, struggling to hold on. “No.”

The guards closed in the distance. Some held swords aloft. Others yelled commands for them to kneel down. One shouted for the guards at the top of the towers, and they, too, turned their sights on them.

Madan’s knees buckled and, unable to continue supporting his weight, Ariadne cursed as he fell to the ground. He closed his eyes and grit his teeth, the blood still leaking from his gut and mouth.

She was going to lose him. After just learning who he was to her—the brother she had always believed him to be—she would lose him. And his death had not even been caused by Loren but by her pitiful excuse for a rescue. If she had only asked for help, perhaps he would not be in such a position.

He would die, and it was all her fault.

“Madan!”

Ariadne whipped her head up at the sound of Azriel’s voice echoing across the grounds. He sprinted down the drive, picking up speed at the sight of them. Even from a distance, she could see the mixture of relief and panic on his face. Left in his wake, Emillie, Camilla, and Revelie followed with their skirts in their hands.

Azriel pulled his sword from his back in mid-stride, swinging the blade at the first of the guards between them. The vampire’s head tumbled from his shoulders. The next turned to face the newest adversary and lost an arm before Azriel’s sword stuck through his chest. Then a third fell. Then the fourth.

One after another, each guard fell. Those on the towers made their way out, and he dispatched each of them with uncanny ease. The singular focus turned the man she knew, the man she loved and married from the one who defeated a General one-on-one to the half-dhemon who razed a squad of Caersans without batting an eye.

But it was who he became at the sight of his broken and dying brother which frightened her most. Once certain no one else threatened them, Azriel dropped his sword and fell to his knees beside his brother. Ariadne stood beside him, too stunned to move, and felt her heart break. Truly break.

Azriel let out a keening cry she had never heard before and gathered Madan into his arms. When Madan did not open his eyes, Azriel let out another wail. “No, no, no…”

Ariadne stepped closer. She opened her mouth to speak. To say something, but nothing came.

“Please, Madan,” Azriel sobbed, “please…don’t leave me. Come on, baby brother, wake up. Please wake up.”

Behind him, Emillie and their friends picked their way through the dead bodies with wide eyes. Her sister turned her attention to Ariadne, mouth agape with surprise. The others edged closer to the men on the ground.

“What happened?” Emillie breathed.

Ariadne opened her mouth again and, as the words spilled out, so did her tears. “I found him like this. They locked him up. When I tried to get him out, they…they…”

“Why did you not ask for help?” Camilla asked, covering her mouth.

“No time.” Ariadne stared at the dying vampire in shock. “His hand.”

Emillie knelt beside Azriel and carefully lifted Madan’s arm. The elder brother flinched back as though to keep her from touching Madan but stopped when she turned a frightened face to him. He settled, like a caged animal, and she leaned in closer. “It looks like aegrisolis.”

Azriel let out another sob and clutched Madan closer. He looked up to Ariadne, his green eyes wide and pleading. “Help him. Please. Find someone—anyone.”

“No one can survive aegrisolis,” she choked out and clutched at her throat.

“This is not normal,” Emillie said and sat back. “It seems contained to his arm. For now.”

“I tried to give him blood,” Ariadne said and held out her healing wrist. This could not be happening. “I tried, but it…it did not work well enough.”

Emillie frowned. “Why not?”

But before anyone could explain, Revelie stepped closer. “Let me try.”

“He won’t wake up,” Azriel rasped, looking at each of them like a lost child. “He’s breathing but…but he won’t—”

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