by Kim Loraine
“What?” My belly flips. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s just a spark. Take care, Guinevere, your life is more precious than you think.”
She stands and leaves me with that cryptic message, and I wonder if our quest is more reliant on me than I previously believed or if she meant something else entirely. Life depending on me. What kind of life? I think back to my night in Lancelot’s arms, his body over mine, our love expressed with physical touch. We hadn’t been careful, there’d been no thought of consequences. Could she have meant we’d made a baby? I rest my hand over my lower belly and let myself think about the possibility for a brief moment before I push it away. No. I’ve never had a child in my visions of the future. And now that I’ve allowed myself to indulge in the fantasy, I ache for what I won’t have.
Rising, I walk farther into my large chambers and inspect the rich fabrics on the bed, the warm fire and wardrobe filled with clothes. No doubt the Lady conjured all this for me. I can only hope Brooks is as comfortable. My corset digs into my waist, becoming painful after too long in the damned thing. Waving my hands along with muttering few soft words, I attempt to remove it by magic, but nothing happens. I try again. Still, nothing.
“Bloody hell,” I say, trying to open the door with magic. Nothing. Damn it all. Then the Lady’s words ring in my mind. I can’t use magic here. Frustration rolls through me. I’ll just have to take this thing off the old fashioned way, with help. I open my door and walk down the hall, hoping I’ll find Brooks.
The unmistakable sound of something shattering carries from down the hall, followed by a crash and a tortured groan. Oh, God. What happened? I run toward the sound, pushing open the door to the room where it originated. Lancelot stands amid broken pieces of the mirror and an overturned table, eyes closed, hands balled into fists, breaths coming in harsh gasps.
“Lance?” I ask, my voice weaker than I’d like.
His eyes snap open, the brilliant blue irises burning with heartbreak and I know. I know Brooks told him. “You married him.”
“You left me.”
“To save you. I left so you could live without getting yourself hurt or killed trying to save me.”
Anger burns in my blood. He made the decision to leave. He abandoned me…us. “He’s Arthur.”
“What? No, that demon lied, and you fell for his trick.”
“No, Lance. He is Arthur. He has Excalibur. His soul is the same. Yes, I married him, but we were already married.”
“Not in this life!” he shouts. “This was supposed to be our time.”
“How? How could it be our time when you weren’t with me? You made the choice for me. You pushed me into his arms. You broke my heart, but not with a false vision this time. You did it knowingly—willingly.”
Right now he looks so much like the knight I fell for all those centuries ago. Leather boots encase strong calves up to his knees, dark breeches fit against his thighs, and his tunic is loose and open at the chest. He could have stepped out of a storybook—our storybook.
“I—” he starts, but falters, then his blue gaze locks on mine. “You’re a fool if you think you can trust a Nephilim. He’s not Arthur. Arthur is dead.”
“Believe what you want. I’m sorry I disturbed you, Lancelot.” I turn on my heels and make my way to the door, needing to get out of here before the guilt crushes me.
I want him to come after me, to pull me into his arms and kiss away my hurt. But he doesn’t. Instead, I walk alone through the quiet hall, my heart aching and heavy. When I come back into my room, I see Brooks standing at the window, hands braced on the sill, shoulders tense.
“Brooks?”
He turns and there’s so much despair in his gaze my chest hurts. “He’s alive, but he’s not ours anymore.”
Crossing the room, I stand next to him, looking up at his handsome features. “I know. We’re making the same mistakes over again. I don’t see how this is going to work. I shouldn’t have been so impulsive, but…my vision. We’re married, my sisters are happy, the world doesn’t end.”
“So I am a means to a greater end. Really, Gwen? I knew you were marrying me because of a vision, but I didn’t realize that you were doing it because you thought you had to. I thought…I’m such an idiot. I thought you saw you’d be truly happy with me. I thought you’d eventually love me and you knew it.”
No, this isn’t right. This isn’t what I want. Lancelot is already heartbroken by my actions, I can’t be the reason Brooks is hurting too. “You don’t understand,” I say, taking his face between my palms. “I married you because I wanted you, but, Brooks, my visions are part of me. I saw you and I together before we were more than acquaintances. So yes, that’s how this started, but if I didn’t want you, didn’t care for you, I wouldn’t have given you my body.”
He nods and strokes a hand over my jaw. “I do understand. But I also know your heart isn’t mine. Lancelot holds it.”
A tear slips down my cheek and I let out a shuddering breath, the boning in my corset digging into my side. Why did I feel it was important to fit in with the fae’s ridiculous fashion sense? I wince and Brooks offers me a concerned look.
“What is it?”
“My gown. I need help removing it. That’s why I was out in the hall. I was looking for you.”
“All right, then. Turn around and let me see if I still remember how to do this.”
His fingers work the laces of my corset and the thing loosens and falls to the floor in a heap, offering me instant relief. I moan and sigh in pleasure, looking over my shoulder to offer Brooks a thank you.
But he glances to the open door and his posture stiffens. I close my eyes as dread washes over me. Lancelot stands in the doorway, a broken man, loss written across his features. “I see you wasted no time finding another to warm your bed, my queen.”
His words are like daggers through me. “Lance, no. That’s not what this is.”
“You’re in his arms. That’s exactly what this is.” He takes a deep breath and I can tell he’s working to stay calm. “You can’t keep us both, my lady. The heart doesn’t work that way.”
I sigh and stare from Brooks to Lancelot, knowing exactly what I have to do. I have to take the step Arthur never could. “But what if mine does?”
Lancelot
But what if hers does? What can she possibly mean by that? Not to have us share her, surely. We tried that once upon a time and all it ended in was heartbreak for everyone. “I told you I wouldn’t share you this time. If you’ve chosen Brooks, then there’s nothing I can do about that. I won’t help you break your vows again. I wouldn’t survive it.”
I can’t handle this. These two stand there, holding each other while asking me for more. But the truth is, she is bound to him in a way I never will be. She’s been married to another man twice now, and I have only ever been the secret.
“Fine, Brooks.” I cut a glance at Gwen, her big eyes pleading for me to stop what I’m doing. “Explain why you’re here, if it wasn’t in search of me.”
Gwen separates herself from Brooks and crosses the room, holding out her hand. “Come, sit. We have to talk this through.”
I don’t touch her. Damn it all, I can’t. If I do, it will only break open my freshly sealed heart. And if she continues to try and save what we had, she’ll only ruin me farther. “Whatever it is you came for, I’ll help. But when we finish, this is over. I will move on and leave the two of you to your life.”
“Lance, that’s not what I want,” she protests.
“And yet, you married another man. Do you take me for a fool?” She flinches as though I’ve struck her.
“No. Please stop. It’s not the same as it was the last time. None of us are the same.”
“I am the same.” I hit my chest with my fist, hard enough for pain to blossom. “I never died. I was never reborn. I spent centuries locked in purgatory to get away from the heartbreak of you.”
Brooks comes up behind Gwen and he mus
t rest his palm on her back because she stiffens. “Don’t speak to her that way,” he says. “She doesn’t deserve to suffer more guilt over you. Remember, Lancelot, this time it was you abandoned her.”
“And then you swooped in and saved the day.”
“You left her with me. You knew I wanted her.”
I grit my teeth against the wave of anger coursing through me. He’s right. I know this. “And now you have her. I can’t believe you’d be willing to let her have me as well. Or are you hoping to watch? If you’re truly Arthur, that might be exactly what you want.”
He rears back, shock on his face. “She told you?”
“She did. I doubt you’ll be able to convince her for much longer, though. Tell me, Brooks, did you do that thing she likes so much? Perhaps I need to demonstrate and refresh your memory? Arthur was never very attentive to his wife. If she’s willing to spread her legs for each of us, maybe she’ll oblige us both right now. Me first.”
“Are you seriously discussing passing me back and forth as though I were a whore?” Gwen’s voice is harsh and filled with utter disbelief. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but that’s not at all how this is going to be.”
“Isn’t it? You came to me, night after night, begging me to give you what your husband couldn’t.”
Pain lashes over my cheek as the love of my life breaks, and her open palm strikes my face. I earned that. I wish I could take back my hateful words. I didn’t really mean them. But, words once released, can not be bottled again.
“We have to find the scabbard,” she says, cold and distant—lost. “Then Brooks will close the seal and stop the apocalypse. You can stay here if that’s what you want. We don’t need you.”
I nod and turn on my heel. She may have ruined everything between us by marrying this imposter, but I won’t let hurt feelings get in the way of her safety or of the future of our world. “We leave in the morning. I grew up here in Avalon. I know the land much better than either of you. You may not think you need me. But, I assure you, you do.”
Chapter Eight
Gwen
I can’t sleep. My body aches with exhaustion, but my mind won’t stop playing my fight with Lancelot behind my eyes. It’s like I’m in a special torture chamber being forced to relive the look on his face, the pain in his voice, over and over. It’ll drive me mad if I let it. Sighing, I toss the blankets off my body and stand, the cold stone floor radiating through my feet.
I grab a throw blanket and wrap it around my shoulders as I pad through the darkened hallway. I’m a fixer. It’s what I always have done if possible. I can’t leave things like this with Lance.
My heart hammers in my throat, a painful pulse that builds in intensity with every step toward Lance’s door. But he has to listen to me. He has to understand. I married Brooks, that doesn’t mean I don’t still love my knight.
There’s a soft yellow glow coming from under the door to Lance’s room. A shadow passes back and forth. He’s awake. Pacing. Hurting. Because of me.
I don’t knock. I can’t give him the opportunity to deny me. Instead, I push open the heavy wood door and stride inside the room. He’s shirtless, clad only in a pair of linen breeches, open at the top. I can see the trail of dark hair that leads from his navel and down to where he’s covered by the fabric. I’ve missed his touch, the scent of his body, and the feel of his lips.
“What are you doing, Gwen?” He sounds so defeated. The anger has all burned out.
“I need to talk to you. I can’t go on like this, you and I at odds.”
“I thought you didn’t need me.”
I can’t be in the same room as him and not be close. It’s always been that way between us. “I always need you. Living without you was torture. It was the ultimate punishment.”
“And yet, you married Brooks.”
I nod. “I did. It can’t be undone.”
“Gwen, do you understand how this hurts? You’ve taken my heart twice now and destroyed it both times. Even still, I can’t kill my love for you. I can’t stop wanting you in my arms, next to me in bed.”
Reaching out, I run my fingers through his hair, combing back the strands that have fallen into his eyes. “I thought I lost you. I couldn’t find you but my spell brought me to you without me knowing. You were here all along.” It hasn’t been that long, not really, but any time thinking he was gone is too long.
“I am so sorry for the things I said. You deserve better from me.” He catches my hand in his and pulls me close, the light of the crackling fire bathing us both in dancing shadows and a soft glow. “I was trying to find my way back to you.”
“We’ll figure something out. We’ll get our happy ending.” Even as I say the words, I think of my vision. Lance was nowhere in sight, but Brooks was at my side. The lie tastes bitter on my tongue.
“It shouldn’t be possible to love someone so desperately. But here I am, living proof.” He stares down at me, his blue eyes deep pools of cobalt in the dim room. “I know I said I wouldn’t let you break your vows, but in this life, you were mine first. Those vows were supposed to belong to me as well.”
My heart swells at his words and I don’t stop him when he lowers his head and his lips brush mine. I want him. I love him. I need him. Moaning against his mouth, I open for him, allowing his tongue to slide against mine as he deepens the kiss and grips the thin fabric of my nightdress with both hands. The gown tears easily under his strength and I’m standing before him, bare and aching. My breasts tender and heavy with arousal, my body on fire.
His rough fingers cup my chin and he turns my face so I’m staring at his beautiful mouth. “You said we are a famous legend. That our story has been written as a tragic betrayal.” I nod, not able to get a word out for fear he’ll stop touching me. “Then tonight we burn the pages. We are so much more than those words.”
I’m lost in him. All I can think of is how I want him. How I love him. “Please, Lancelot, my knight. Remind me of your love.”
His eyes flash and he grips my hand, bringing my palm to the top of his open pants. I slide my fingers down until I’m gripping his rigid length. “See how my body craves yours? It never ends. I’ll never stop wanting you.”
“We have to be careful,” I whisper, stroking him lightly, relishing the little grunts of pleasure I coax from him. “We were reckless before and did nothing to prevent making a child.”
He bucks in my hand, his cock swelling even farther at my words. “I want to fill you with my baby. The thought of you carrying my child, full and round…” he groans and the tip of his erection weeps. “God, what that does to me.”
My thighs clench as a rush of need takes hold. Nipples hard aching points, I lean closer just so I can brush the sensitive buds against his chest. “I want that too. I want everything we never had.”
His fingers thread in my hair and he claims my mouth again as he fucks my hand. His breeches fall to the floor and he steps free of them. Then he’s pulling away, breaths coming in harsh gasps. “And what of your husband?”
Lancelot’s cock juts out, hard and throbbing, needing release. “My husband knows exactly how I feel about you. He knows, and he still left me sleeping alone. Because there’s nothing that will keep me from loving you, Lance. Not Brooks, not our past, not the archangels in Heaven, or the demons in Hell.”
I take his hand and pull him toward the couch near the fireplace. His eyes don’t leave mine. “What are you doing to me?” he asks.
With a gentle push to his chest, he sits and I straddle him. Our skin brushes at our most sensitive places, fevered needy touches that only serve to stoke the flames between us. His cock prods at my wet opening, begging to be let inside. I sink down on him, moaning as he stretches me wide.
“I love you,” I whisper, rocking my hips even though he’s not even halfway inside. A shiver runs through me as the teasing ghost of an orgasm hovers on the edge of my awareness.
“God, Gwen.” He grips my hips and thrusts upward, sheathing h
imself in my tight heat and I cry out. Pain mixes with pleasure as he nudges right against my womb.
“I can’t…it’s too much…you…” I’m unable to form a coherent sentence as I roll my hips back and forth, his blunt head brushing that secret place inside me.
Then his thumb is on my clit, and his free hand cups my breast. I’m so close to climax, desperate for my release to crest. Warm palms slide over my shoulders and I’m lost to sensation as he continues to torment the bundle of nerves between my legs. I’m being touched so many places it seems impossible. My nerve-endings are overloaded, and lips are on my nape while Lance’s kisses claim my mouth. I fuck him harder, chasing my orgasm and when I hear Brooks murmur, “Take her over the edge.”
My eyes fly open and I break away from Lancelot’s kiss to look back at Brooks, on his knees behind me, fully clothed. He takes my mouth and slides his hands around my waist until he’s grinding his rock hard erection against my ass. Lance pinches my nipple and groans, his gaze on Brooks rather than me.
“Fuck,” my knight says on a deep groan.
That does it. Brooks’ tongue in my mouth, Lance’s cock filling me, and the warmth of them both sends me into a nearly painful orgasm. Brooks moans and jerks against my back as I clench around Lance’s hardness.
I come down from my climax with both of them still holding me. “I suppose you have your answer about my husband,” I say.
“Next time, I’d appreciate an invitation.” Brooks gets to his feet, offering me a hand.
“I…that was…everything was more intense than I’ve ever known.” Lance’s voice is hoarse and still holds a tinge of arousal.
As I stand, I feel moisture on my inner thigh, and my stomach falls when I realize it’s semen. Lance stayed inside me as he found his release. That’s twice now with no protection. Reckless lovers? Or was Lancelot making a point? That he wants some claim on me, and if he gets it from leaving a part of himself inside me, so be it. What would Brooks think about me not offering him the chance to give me a child? He’s my husband. Arthur wanted an heir at all costs, but Brooks has no crown to pass down.
