Page 102 of Labyrinthine
“I’m not yours to keep in the dark.”
The words settle between us, soft as falling ash. And just as final.
“I never wanted this,” he says, voice raw. “You think I wanted to lie to you? You think I wanted to make impossible choices? You think I want to keep secrets, knowing that it hurts you?”
“No,” I say. “I think you want to win.”
That lands hard. He exhales like the air’s been knocked from him, staggered by the truth I’ve never said aloud.
“I want to save you,” he says, softer now. “And yes—I want to win. Not a throne. Not power. Your heart. Your trust. I want you to choose me. Freely. Without fear.”
“But you’re not giving me a choice,” I whisper.
His voice is a rasp. “I am.”
“No, Mallen. You’re giving me fragments. Half-truths. Carefully arranged pieces. You’re trying to walk me to a conclusion without telling me what I’m really choosing.”
His silence says enough.
I step toward the balcony, needing space. And air.
He speaks, low and desperate. “If I tell you now, it could destroy everything. Everything I’ve been working toward. Everything I’ve done to protect you from him.”
“You’re talking about the man you still serve,” I say.
He flinches. “It isn’t like that. It wasn’t.”
“But it was something,” I press. “And you don’t trust me enough to tell me.”
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“I don’t want to live like this,” I say. “Not when I can’t decide what that life looks like.”
He steps toward me. “Azhara?—”
“No more, Mallen.” My voice breaks. “No more secrets. No more lies. Either you tell me the truth, or you let me go.”
He’s breathing hard now, staring at me like he’s trying to memorize the shape of this moment. “If I lose you?—”
“You already have.”
The words slice clean through him. He closes his eyes, shoulders caving inward, as if the pain might buckle him. When he opens them, the green of his eyes is unsteady—desperate, more than a little ruined.
“I have never—will never—lie to you,” he says, every syllable deliberate. “Please believe me. I cannot tell you this. This would trap you, and I will never, ever do that.”
“I deserve to know what’s happening to me.”
His voice cracks. “I do believe that. Gods help me, I do.”
“Then prove it.”
We stare at each other for a long time.
He doesn’t speak.
I shake my head and turn away. His footsteps follow me, but they’re hesitant, slow.
“I love you, Azhara,” he says behind me. “I will never stop fighting for you.”
