Page 8 of The Golden Rose Of Valenul

“Maybe I want to.”

“Gods damn it, Az.”

“You suggested it.”

“But you can’t.”

“And who would stop me?” Azriel let his arms fall to his sides, and he cocked his head to study the other guard.

Madan ground his teeth. “She would stop you.”

Absolute stillness settled over Azriel. An icy grip dragged his thoughts back to her and a flood of warmth washed over him as he swiveled his head back to the dancers. Madan followed his line of sight. Ariadne smiled up at the General at the same moment Loren looked up and met his gaze.

“Easy.” Madan’s low, steady tone grated on him.

“I’m not a rabid animal.”

Another snort. Madan shook his head. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Is this why you came over here?” Azriel pivoted to put his back to the dance floor. “To put me on a leash?”

“If necessary.”

“I swear to the fucking gods—”

“Joking!” Madan threw up his hands, a wide grin brimming. “I’m joking. In all seriousness, I haven’t had the chance to speak with you at all tonight.”

Azriel rolled his shoulders, easing the tension away. “Oh?”

“I heard from Whelan about—”

“I told you not to respond.” Azriel’s nostrils flared and he turned to face him fully. His request–no, his order–for Madan to leave well-enough alone had gone unheard.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do when it comes to this.”

“I am your elder.”

Madan clicked his tongue. “Now don’t you sound like the Caersan?”

That stayed his tongue but did nothing to bank his temper. Azriel’s pulse picked up its pace, the fiery rage coursing through him. “So what did he have to say this time?”

“He’s dying.” Madan studied Azriel’s face as though searching for any sign of acknowledgment. Any break to the stonelike façade. Azriel wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Not tonight. “No one knows why. The Council doesn’t know yet.”

Azriel growled in frustration. “That doesn’t help you.”

“Us.” Madan gestured between them. “This impacts you more than me since you’re my elder.”

“Fuck.”

“Garth already wrote and signed his Will when we were there,” Madan said carefully. “Everything is in motion.”

Azriel pressed his fists to his eyes. This was not what he needed to hear tonight. He had enough on his mind with caging the fae bond. He sucked in a long, deep breath, and when he exhaled, his hands dropped so he could stare at the ceiling. “I don’t want it.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“I agreed to do this,” Azriel jabbed a finger at the floor, “for the Season, and then you said I could leave. If he dies and I become… Fuck! I’ll never escape her.”

Madan’s brows pinched with sorrow. The vampire’s eyes flickered to whatever happened behind him as the quartet went silent. A bow and curtsy between the Golden Rose and her general, no doubt. He couldn’t stomach any of it. Shouldering a dying Caersan’s burden was the least of his concerns.

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