Sabharni,ydhom.
Ariadne screamed again as her feet lifted from the floor, but this time she threw her upper body forward. The sudden momentum had Loren’s hands slipping just enough for her to twist free of his grip.
“You lyingbitch!” Loren reached for her again.
Slapping his hand away, she danced back, tripping over the hem of her wedding dress. Ariadne grabbed the back of a chair to keep from falling and jerked her skirt out from under her heel with a resounding tear. Back across the room, Revelie held Camilla as the latter opened her eyes in confusion. But Loren no longer looked at them. He focused solely on her—exactly as she had hoped.
“If you thought for one second,” Ariadne snapped back, “that I wouldeverchoose you overhim, you are more thick-headed than I thought.”
Loren growled in frustration and stormed forward, shrinking the distance between them with his hand closing into a fist.
But this time Ariadne was ready. The ex-General had not yet pulled back his hand to strike before she moved, slamming her own fist into his gut and cracking the other across his jaw. His head jerked to the side, unprepared to defend against the attack.
Ariadne’s knuckles smarted, but she put her hands back up in front of her face before Kall could tap her chin—no, before Loren could get in arealpunch. Keeping her feet spread and balanced, she sucked in a steadying breath as her opponent turned back to her with vampiric speed. His open hand never made it to her face thanks to her own viper-quick reactions, and he snarled in fury.
“You do not have the privilege ofchoice,” Loren snapped, the words a distorted echo of her own on the night of their engagement celebration. Except when she had spoken them to Azriel, her true husband had responded by begging her to choose him.
Edging her way back toward the library door, Ariadne pivoted to keep Loren and Nikolai in her line of sight. That the King’s Sword had yet to react to any of this only made her more nervous. For what was he waiting? True danger to his King?
Behind Loren, Revelie helped Camilla to her feet, where the latter swayed dangerously, her face already deeply bruised. So long as Loren kept his focus on her, however, Ariadne knew they would be fine. At least until Azriel arrived. What frightened her most was that her husband had yet to make it into range for her to communicate with him fully. Why could she not feel him?
Loren followed like an incensed hound cornering his prey as Ariadne continued toward the doors. To her surprise, Nikolai stepped back. Perhaps he had been instructed to let Loren handle any uprising. Or, more likely, he knew better than to get in Loren’s way when he was on the hunt.
All the better for her.
One step over the threshold, Ariadne turned and picked up her skirts to sprint down the hall away from the library. Fear almost blinded her as she raced back over the floors that felt so familiar and yet entirely different from her childhood. It was not running that caused the sudden dump of adrenaline—she was accustomed to the fast pace from all her runs through the forest alongside Kall.
It was the sound of Loren’s boots right on her heels.
There was something about the chase that thrilled Loren. It delighted his senses to once again be hurtling in pursuit of a foe—even if that foe was his own wife. She had reawakened in him the very reason he had chosen to forego life as a future Councilman and climb the ranks within Valenul’s prestigious military instead. Every part of him craved the hunt.
That Ariadne chose to put up such a violent fight had him more than excited. This was what he had hoped for: theopportunity to take a wildfire such as this and smother it. It would take time, this much he knew, but that only called to the part of him that yearned to tame those wild beasts.
What he had not anticipated, however, was just how much spark Ariadne had gained since the beginning of the Season. When they had first begun their courting at the Vertium ball, she had been weak and demure. At the time, he had been fine with it. After all, she had been more than acquiescing to his every command. Such a life, with an obedient little wife, would have been more than sufficient.
Yet that half-breed bastard had lit that light inside her again, and Loren wanted nothing more than to stifle it. The only light she should shine should be forhim. Even better, it should bebecauseof him.
Therefore, Ariadne’s little rebellion at his wedding had not truly surprised him. Something in the back of his mind had told him this would happen. That the horned freak had enchanted her, after all, and it would be Loren’s responsibility to permanently rid her of that crass obsession. Such a task was an honor.
Her ferocity only enlivened him more. As the hot rage built in his gut, boiling into his veins, Loren felt more focused than he ever had in his life. Battles and war had never quite thrilled him as much as this particular chase. Those had high stakes where lives and Valenul’s sacred ground could be lost. This had only one outcome: his wife’s indisputable understanding thathewas in charge.
So when her fists connected with him in those well-timed punches, Loren knew precisely what he had to do. No, he would not kill his wife. Not on their wedding day. The Lords would look unfavorably upon such violence and revolt. But vampires healed quickly, and Ariadne needed to be taught a severe lesson.
Loren stalked her across the library to where she turned and ran down the hall. Nikolai knew him all too well—this washismoment, and any interference would displease him.
Heart racing, he gave chase. Adrenaline leaked through his system, sharpening his mind to what he was to do next: catch his prey and ensure it submitted to him in every way she was meant to as his wife.
Back down the hall they went, her long legs eating up the distance with practiced ease. Yet Loren had to wonder just how fast she would be had she not been so encumbered by the skirts of her wedding dress. The torn hem in the back flickered in and out of sight as she ran without looking back. There would be no need to check if he followed. She no doubt heard him in pursuit.
Past the open doors to Revelie’s rooms, then Camilla’s. Strange that neither would be chosen as a safe-haven, given she likely did not know they had no locks on the inside. As if he could trust those two meddlesome women not to lock themselves away.
What confused Loren most, though, was when Ariadne passed by the staircases that led to the foyer. Running down steps provided its own risks and rewards, yet the front doors should have been her first choice to escape into the night. Alas, she continued into the other wing of the castle—the one he had not spent as much time modifying with the assistance of his mage building crew.
These would be the rooms he did not want her disappearing into, for they maintained the most effective way to keep him out. As such, Loren stretched his legs farther to close the distance between them. He needed to finish this. Now.
Then Ariadne finally looked back. His heart leapt at the hate and fear mixed in her expression. That had been all he needed to make up the few steps that kept them steadily apart. Her distraction was his victory, for Ariadne stumbled over her feetjust enough for Loren to reach out a hand and dig his fingers into her hair.
Ariadne’s scream sent a vicious burst of excitement through him. She careened to a stop, her head jerking back from the force of his grip. Again, she stumbled, this time so that her body slammed into his. Shaking, no doubt from her own rush of having been chased and caught, she twisted in his hands to no avail.
