Azagor stilled, his body heavy on hers. The room that was always comfortably warm suddenly chilled, and she shivered. Susannah half expected ice to form on the walls around them. The crimson passion in his eyes drained away until he stared down at her with eyes reflecting nothing and, at the same time, death. They flashed from crimson passion to death black in the lengthen-ing silence.
"Azagor, please say something."
Slowly, deliberately, he rolled away from her, and the rejection in that action was like a slap. "Repeat that."
Anger, insidious and dangerous, used his voice to filter into the room. He stood.
Susannah wanted to plead with him, but all she could do was stare up at him. "Noah is my son."
"Why did you tell me he was your cousin?"
She rolled over and sat up to face him. "I thought - I thought if you knew he was my son, you wouldn't help me find him."
"You did not trust me with the truth."