Why was he so angry?
Ariel opened her mouth to protest, but before a word could escape her lips, he turned around and glowered at her with a face that reminded her of some hell-bound beast.
All that primal violence burned in his glare. She trembled in sudden fear of him and reminded herself that he was a warrior of renowned legend.
And it wasn’t for mercy or kindness.
“Woman, as you value your life, take yourself from my presence.”
The bitter taste of terror stung her throat.
This was the one man who could very well kill her. Suddenly scared, Ariel fled from the courtyard and back into the safety of the hall.
Valteri watched her flee, guilt gnawing at his conscience. He shouldn’t have done that.
The kiss as much as the scare. It wasn’t right to take his anger at himself out on her.
Why he’d kissed her, he couldn’t imagine. He knew better than to lower his defenses and yield to such base things. And yet she made it so simple to forget all he’d been taught, all he’d suffered.
Damn me for it.
“Ariel.” Her name rolled from his lips like the sweetness of wine.
It was as soothing to his tongue as her form was to his eyes. Her taste even more so.
If only he could claim her, but he knew better than to even think such a thought. She reminded him of sunshine and love, of all the things he’d yearned for as a child, all the things he knew as an adult he couldn’t have.
Things he didn’t deserve.
He was cursed.
From cradle to grave.
The old monks had been right. His life had never been anything more than complete and utter misery. It was why he didn’t believe in God.
Why he didn’t believe in hell.
Because this lifewashell, and death would be the sweet release that he craved from it. All he wanted was an eternal sleep where nothing hurt and where he’d never again have to see the face of another person.
Long-forgotten memories surged through him and he remembered the numerous times in his life he’d dreamed of a peaceful haven, of a home with someone who cared for him, someone who saw more than just his physical deformity that marked him as the devil’s son.
He was an outsider to this world that had never wanted him in it.
I’m good with that.
Nay, you’re not.
Grinding his teeth, he hated that inner voice that called him a liar.
With a growl, he fingered the scar beside his left eye.
“And if thine eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee. It is better for thee to enter into life with one eye, rather than having two eyes to be cast into hellfire.”The old priest’s deranged words echoed through his mind, reminding him of the day they’d almost blinded him for their zealotry.
He’d barely escaped before they gouged out his eye. To this day, he could feel the pain of it.
Not just of their torture.
Of their scorn.
