Page 153 of Scourged
“You asked who usually gave me my haircuts. I told you that after coming to Verith, it was always some barber in the market district. But before that … it was my mother. And during those moments, when it was just me and her, she would teach me bits about her culture. Her language, her legends, the magic of her people.” More shadows danced around his shoulders. “My father hated it, of course, but that didn’t stop her. I think it was her version of rebellion against him, in a way.”
Mariah’s throat tried to close around her words, but she pushed them out anyway. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because,” Andrian said, his voice thick. With a slow, measured movement, he lowered himself to his knees. His head bowed, and he laid a hand flat on the white marble floor.
“Because you told me to beg for your trust, and this is the only way I know how. Yes, others besides my mother have cut my hair. But since her, I’ve never let myself be touched like that by someone I love. Because I haven’t lovedanyonesince her. Don’t you understand?” He looked up at her, peeking through stray strands of his hair. “My love got herkilled. And it will do the same to you. That’s my deepest secret, my darkest truth. I’m fucking terrified because I love you more than I love myself, and that means I will always be destined to lose you.”
Her hands shook at her sides. Tears brushed against the back of her eyes and settled in her throat.
“I’m not sure this is convincing me to trust you.”
He laughed—a sorrowful, bitter sound. “I have nothing left to give you other than my honesty, Mariah. I warned you long ago I would bring you nothing but pain. That my love for you was selfish.” He shook his head. “And it will never not be selfish, but if this is my fate, then I accept it now.”
Her mind spun. This felt so much like before, when he had come to her with his grand confessions. But that was before they’d been taken. Before he’d been captured, along with her.
This man kneeling on the floor before her was broken, just like her.
With a racing heart and clammy hands, she took a step toward him. Then another.
“Why?” she whispered, the breath hoarse as it left her lungs.
He glanced up, confusion twisting his brow.
She took another step.
“Why … me? Why loveme?” She bit her lip. “Why did this happen?”
The hint of a smile touched his lips. “I don’t know, Mariah. I don’t think anyone does. Perhaps only the gods know.”
“No. The gods have nothing to do with it.” She remembered her conversation with the goddesses. “That much, I’m sure of.”
Andrian narrowed his eyes, his mouth tightening. “Fine. Not the gods. But perhaps something. Or maybe nothing at all. It doesn’t matter. I don’t think there’s an answer to that question. There is no ‘why.’I love you,” he growled, voice pitching lower near the end. “And I don’t care if you don’t want to hear me say it. Because it’s true, and I know you feel the same.”
She held her breath, counting each beat of her heart in her ears. It thudded against her chest like a war drum, a march toward a fate she’d always tried to fight.
Love would be your retribution.
She lifted her chin.
“You’re right,” she said, taking one more step to him.
He held her gaze, the tanzanite steady and blazing.
“I do feel the same. I do love you, Andrian Laurent, and despite the part of myself that’s terrified, that hates this weakness, I can’t stop it. Can’t fight it. But,” she said, breaking from his too-bright stare to look at her hands. Her callouses were reforming, each mark and scar and imperfection a reminder of her strength. Of what she’d endured.
Of what shewouldendure.
“But,” she repeated, dropping her hands.
He watched her with so much intensity, she was amazed he still knelt on the floor. Energy crackled around him, shadows winding down his arms.
“There is only one way you can earn back my trust.”
“Anything,” he ground out, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Mariah, I would do anything. Even if you asked me to journey to Enfara itself, to face the Scourge alone, I would do it.”
She smiled gently at him, heavy sadness filling the cracks in her chest. “I know you would. But that’s not it. I need you to answer one very simple question. Tell me the truth, and I think …” She drew in a great breath, lifting her gaze quickly to theceiling before returning it to him. “I think I can learn to trust you again.”
He nodded. “Okay. Ask your question. Whatever it is, I’ll answer it.”