Page 36 of The Golden Rose Of Valenul

Madan frowned, concern twisting his expression at whatever he saw on Azriel’s face. “Excuse me?”

Though the Season had just begun, Loren’s frequent visits to the Harlow Estate only meant one thing. How many more nights had Loren visited before Azriel’s arrival? The two had a history. Opportunities to get to know one another and build a relationship.

“The way she looks at him,” Azriel said, his voice distant and hollow. “She comes alive when he’s around. He makes her laugh, he—” The words cracked. “He is everything she needs.”

With a sigh, Madan leaned forward so his elbows rested on his knees. “You knew this would happen when you took the job.”

“I know, but…” Azriel groaned and pressed his closed fists against his eyes as though the pressure on his face could relieve that in his heart.

“Nothing is for certain yet.”

“Markus approves of the match.”

“There’s still time.” Madan knew better than to close the distance between them. “If Garth dies soon, you could—”

“Enough!” Azriel shot to his feet, unable to contain the terrible, crashing waves of emotions. He stalked to the door, stopped, and turned back. “She will never love me. I am nothing next to the General.”

Madan stilled. “Don’t, Azriel. You are more than he could ever be.”

“You didn’t see them together!” He braced himself on the back of the nearest, spindly chair. The wood creaked beneath his weight.

“You’re right, I didn’t, but—”

His body reacted before his mind could catch up. One moment he leaned on the chair, and the next it splintered into pieces as he threw it against the far wall. A wail escaped him as every fiber of his being lit like an inferno. The unclaimed bond consumed him, ravaging his heart and mind. He pounded a fist against his chest. The steady beat mimicked the slow shatter of his heart.

“Stop!” Madan grappled for his hand.

Azriel cried out again, weaker this time, and sank to the floor. He tilted his head back against the wall with a low, feeble moan. Tears streamed down his face, creating cool, damp paths from eye to jaw to neck.

They sat there together for what felt like an eternity, Azriel’s gasps for air the only sound. Beside him, Madan settled in to wait it out.

Why Madan continued to put up with his outbursts, Azriel didn’t know. The vampire had always teased him: ridiculous size, ridiculous emotions. Though he’d always done well to keep them from boiling over in front of others, Madan had seen them all. Seen them and loved him regardless. Azriel owed him everything.

When the tears slowed, Azriel choked past his tight throat, “I can’t keep doing this.”

Madan said nothing. What could he say? Don’t leave? Don’t worry, things will get better? No. Though Madan had never given up on him, he couldn’t solve Azriel’s problems. He had to do it on his own, for better or worse.

“But I can’t leave her,” Azriel croaked after another moment of contemplation. A fresh wave of tears ran down his face. He could never live with himself if he didn’t ensure her safety with Loren first.

“I need to ask you something,” Madan said slowly, “and I need you to hear my words before you get upset.”

Azriel rolled his head to the side to look at him, suspicion creeping in. “What is it?”

“Is this all because of the bond?” He held up a hand, keeping Azriel from snapping a response. “Is this the bond… or do you truly love her?”

Silence. It wasn’t a bad question, even if it lit a new fire within him. The bond made fae males possessive and unruly. They acted uncharacteristically and often became volatile when separated from their mates. However, there were also cases of fae bonds beginning and ending with that–no love attached.

“And,” Madan added with caution, “if you do love her… why? What has she done to earn your love?”

“Bonds are often tied with—”

“That isn’t what I asked,” Madan cut in. “Don’t speak to me about how bonds work. Whelan bonded to me. I know what it’s like from a fae’s perspective, even if I don’t feel the same soul connection.”

Azriel snapped his mouth shut and turned his gaze back to the ceiling. What had she done to earn his devotion? When did it start? Because if it were just the bond, his heart wouldn’t feel ready to wither away. He’d only feel the rage of the bond instead. At least that was what he’d always been told.

“I love her.” He spoke the words in a whisper. “The bond connected me to her, sure, but I can’t think straight when she’s around. She’s the only one I see whenever she’s in the room. I can’t stop thinking about her, what makes her happy or sad or angry. She’s the breath in my lungs, my reason for getting up each night, the only light in my dark world.”

Madan sighed. His only response.

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