by Kim Loraine
She nods. “You’re right.” Glancing down her body, she tightens her towel. “After I get dressed, I’ll meet the two of you downstairs. We can talk to the Lady together.”
Protective instinct surges to the forefront of my mind. “You can’t walk alone through these halls.”
“Well, someone tore my nightgown in two last night.”
Heat blossoms across my body. “That I did. And I won’t apologize.”
“I wasn’t asking you for an apology. But that doesn’t change the fact I need to be clothed before we leave. And I don’t have any magic in the Lady’s home, so I have to go back to my room so I can get dressed.”
“I’ll go with you,” Brooks offers.
There’s no way in Hell I’m going to let him be the hero. I may be willing to work this out between us, but until we figure out exactly how this arrangement will go, we’re not going to be separated. “We all go. And from now on, we’re sleeping in the same damn room. Always.”
Chapter Ten
Brooks
Lance isn’t ready to admit what happened between us. I’d hoped after the two of us sharing such an intimate night with Gwen, after our kiss, he’d be willing to take slow steps forward. But he’s not. The man is guarded, hesitant, and I can’t fix that. I’m only just coming to terms with my own feelings. But it was too good, too right for me to hide behind the manufactured ideals of sex and love. Love isn’t something that should be defined by rules and expectations. It’s a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes, constantly changing and accepting new ways of doing the same thing, connecting people.
My jaw is tight as I watch Gwen talk to the Lady in front of the stables. She asked for space to speak, witch-to-witch, with the woman who I still don’t trust completely. The Lady rests a palm on Gwen’s own cupped one and a glowing ball of magic appears between their hands.
“What is going on over there?” Lance asks as he exits the stable with two saddled horses, their leads in each of his hands.
“Your guess is as good as mine. But I think I just witnessed the Lady giving Gwen a spell.”
He hands me the reins for the glossy black horse and nods. “Vivienne,” he murmurs.
“What?”
“The Lady’s name is Vivienne. Only those who’ve earned the knowledge also learn her name.”
“And you’re the keeper of her name?”
He shakes his head. “I wasn’t able to speak it until she willed it so.”
“So you trust her?”
“With my life. As I’ve said.”
“In all fairness, you were nearly turned into a demon.”
He chuckles and turns his blue gaze to mine. “Not by someone I trusted. I was a desperate man when I made that deal with Morgan. I loved Gwen more than my own soul. Can you understand how hard it was for me to know she’d chosen you?”
“But she didn’t. She chose you.”
“A fact I learned too late.” He drags his free hand through his hair and sighs. “Or perhaps, this was the path we had to walk. A season of strife before we were all given another chance.”
“If I could go back—” I start, but he grips my wrist hard and my gaze snaps to his.
“No. If I’ve learned anything it’s this, we are not shaped by our past so much as we are molded by the hope for our future. You and I will not repeat the mistakes of Arthur’s lifetime. We will make different choices because we love her. As much as I want to be the only man she gives her heart to, I see it in her eyes as well, she loves us both. Making her choose between us would mean never having all of her.”
I don’t know what to say. I want more than both of us loving her. I want the three of us to love each other. “And what if I want more?”
“All I can give is what we shared this morning.”
I open my mouth to speak, to offer some kind of assurance that the kiss we shared was the right thing, a step toward what we really need, but he releases my wrist like I’ve burned him. His focus is on the two women headed toward us. Conversation over. Lance and I still have a lot to discuss, but for now, we’ve got a scabbard to find.
“Only two horses?” Gwen asks, a grin on her lips. “Is one of you going to walk?”
A laugh builds in my chest. I know what Lancelot’s response will be. He’s going to claim her as his riding partner. Tell her he’ll see her safe on this journey. Because that’s who he is.
“There are only two that can be spared, I’m afraid,” Lady Vivienne says.
Gwen shrugs. “It’s fine. We can take turns sharing the saddle.” Then she looks at the two of us and winks. “I don’t mind sharing.”
“Lancelot, I have a gift for you,” Lady Vivienne says, holding out a hand, a gesture for him to go to her. “They may not have the power of Excalibur, but they will protect you.” A gleaming sword with a sapphire encrusted hilt appears in her hand while a shield of silver and blue materializes in her other. He takes the offerings and bows his head, sheathing the sword and slinging the shield over his back. The two items disappear as though they never existed as soon as he’s put them away. “They’ll return to aid you when you’re in need.”
“Thank you, Vivienne,” Lance says.
“I’ve given Gwen what I can to aid your search. My connection to Nimue is weak, but the trail should lead you toward her. Be careful of the magic of Beltane. Gwen told me what happened this morning.”
My body warms as Lance’s back tenses and I can’t stop from remembering the look on his face as he came across Gwen and me. Then Vivienne looks over his shoulder at me as though she knows my thoughts. I’m not embarrassed. I spent an entire lifetime denying who I was. No longer.
“There are whispers, Brooks, that Arthur has returned. Nimue will want to keep you away from the scabbard. But moreover, she may try to take you for herself. The power of King Arthur wielding Excalibur might prove to be too strong a draw for her to resist.”
“She can’t have me.”
The Lady nods and smiles. “You’re the same man you were.”
I bristle. Arthur let Gwen die. Arthur couldn’t love Lance without fear. I am not him. “I hope not.”
“It’s not a bad thing. People grow and change while still being who they are at their core. Perhaps this time you’ll have the chance to be who you were destined to be.”
“Was king not good enough?”
“That’s not what I meant.” She gives me a knowing look and vanishes.
I glance at Gwen and she smiles, my whole world lighting up with one small gesture. She walks to me and threads our fingers before holding out a hand to Lance. He joins us, not touching me, but not avoiding me either. Then Gwen looks at the man and to our hands. “We all have to be joined for this to work.”
“For what to work?”
“I’m finding our path.”
I laugh. “If it were that easy, why didn’t we do it when we first arrived?”
She rolls her eyes. “I didn’t have this,” she says, pulling out a pendant from around her neck. It’s a simple brass charm fashioned to look like a stag’s antlers. “The Lady infused it with her magic. I can use it to help find Nimue. They’re sisters by blood as well as power. We can track her.”
Lance joins hands with me and I feel our connection. A spark. More than Lance is ready for, but with Gwen’s palms linked with ours, we aren’t two men. We’re three souls. Linked, bound, and fated.
Gwen
“It’s getting dark. We need to make camp for the night,” Lance says, his warmth radiating through my chest from where we’re pressed together on this horse. My arms are around his waist, cheek resting between his shoulder blades. This was my favorite way to be close to him, and from the way my heart flutters at the memory of sitting astride his horse, getting to touch him without judgment, I think it still is.
“We’ll stop there.” Brooks points to his left and I see the ruins of an old castle in the distance. “We need some kind of shelter. Remember what Lisola said about the beasts. I’d rather not set u
p a tent if we can have four walls and a roof.”
Each of the mounts carries saddle bags filled with supplies and food in anticipation of a long journey. I can’t rely on my magic in a place like this.
My skin crawls with the thought of being caught out here. “Okay. But we need to stay together. If we’re out alone, we’re at risk.”
Lance nods. “I’m not leaving your side.”
“Neither am I,” Brooks agrees. “We stay together. As it should be.”
His gaze lingers on Lance and my heart breaks for him. I know he loves the man, just as I do, but Lance is resistant. I’m not going to force the issue, but it’s obvious Lance feels more than he wants to. His need was directed at Brooks this morning in our bed even if he can’t admit it. But I saw. He didn’t have his release until Brooks touched him. He had to watch us together.
Brooks leads the way, taking his horse up the hill with us following behind. I keep my arms wrapped tight around my knight, not wanting to let go of this man for fear I might lose him again.
As we reach the hill’s crest, my chest squeezes in anticipation of stopping for the night. “What if someone is inside?”
The castle is mostly crumbling walls and rotted gates, but there is a turret still standing, still strong. Lance dismounts and holds out a hand for me. “Then we’ll beg their hospitality for the night. I’m not letting you sleep outside if I can avoid it.” The horses whinny and rear, taking off without much warning.
“What just happened?” I ask.
A low growl fills the surroundings. Deep and ominous, it rumbles all the way through me.
“Lance. The moon.” I glance at the line of trees and the full white orb that’s rising steadily and bathing us in light.
Both Brooks and Lance have their swords at the ready, placing me between their bodies—my protectors. “Get Gwen somewhere safe,” Lance says, the three of us backing toward the castle.
“Me? I’m a witch, remember?”
“You can still die.” Brooks’ voice is clipped.
“So can you two. Nephilim aren’t immortals, and the last time I checked, human knights die the same as normal men.”
The growling intensifies and five pairs of glowing amber eyes catch the light of the moon from the trees. “We need to get inside. Right the fuck now,” Brooks says.
Excalibur begins to burn with a golden light, illuminating us all, but the beasts don’t back down. They snarl and snap their jaws, stepping closer with each passing moment. “They aren’t afraid,” Lance says. “What kind of creature isn’t afraid of the power of Excalibur?”
“The kind who has a death wish.” Brooks takes a defensive posture, holding the sword ready to strike. “Come play, dogs. I’ve need of a new fur rug.”
“Now is not the time to tease them,” I grumble. Pulling every ounce of power I have into my palms, I weave a protection spell and cast it out around us. “Nothing needs to die tonight. This should hold until we’re inside. I can ward the doors and—”
A wolf the size of a small car leaps from the line of trees, its jaws snapping as it flies through the air. The large form slams into my bubble of protection and the spell glows upon impact, but the beast doesn’t break through. It yelps in pain from the force of the collision, then gets back to its feet and shakes off the disorientation.
“Back away. Don’t let go of me.” They both grip my arms and together we step back slowly. Another wolf joins its brother and both of them tense, ready to spring. I pull more power to the protective spell, but my head is aching from the effort.
“We have to hurry. I’m not strong enough to hold them off if they keep attacking.”
“They’ll have to come through me if they want to get to either of you,” Lance growls. “Nothing is going to harm you.”
“Let me help you,” Brooks says, my arm warming where he touches me. I can’t drop my focus from the spell, but I feel his grace flowing through me again, our connection deep and strong.
The two wolves spring, their big bodies hitting the wall I’ve put up with surprising force. I feel it reverberate through my bones. I cry out, step back, and even with Brooks’ help, the spell cracks. Lance releases his hold on me and puts himself in front of both of us.
“Go! Get inside and set the wards.”
“What the bloody hell are you doing?” Brooks yells the question at our knight, but it’s too late, Lance is through the barrier and ready to fight.
“Run, now!”
I do, I run for the doorway and pull every ounce of my power into my hands. The wolves growl and snap their teeth, three of them now, all circling Lance and Brooks. My fingers itch with magic, and once I’m over the threshold I press my hand against the doorway and raise a simple set of wards.
“Come on!” I shout, needing them out of there. The wolves seem to know my running broke the circle of protection.
“Go,” Lance says to Brooks, his focus never leaving the wolves. “She’s your wife. You have Excalibur. I’ll fend them off until the two of you are safe.”
I want to scream at him for being such an idiotic hero. “Brooks, grab him when I say,” I call.
Brooks nods, and I crouch as close to the earth as I can get. My heart hammers in my chest as power fills me and I whisper fierce words that draw electricity from every living thing around. Then, I shout, “Now!” I slam my palms into the dirt and send a shock as strong as a bolt of lightning straight for the circle of animals.
I have to trust that Brooks pulled Lance to safety as the electric current shot through the ground, the path visible in the burned blades of grass. The beasts yelp and run away, leaving my two men both crumpled on the mossy grass to the left of where they’d been standing. I run to them, heart in my throat, but before I get two feet away, Lance is standing and holding out a hand to help Brooks up.
“Are you two all right?” I ask, voice wobbling more than I’d like.
Lance looks me up and down. “Gwen, you’re bleeding.”
Warmth trickles from my nose and I swipe at the moisture, my hand coming away bloody. “Wow, that really packed a punch.”
“Holy God,” Brooks breathes. “It’s everywhere. Your ears, even your eyes.”
Oh, this is bad. “Maybe,” I start, my vision going gray around the edges. “Maybe I need to have a little lie down.”
“Fuck,” Lance says, rushing forward as I lose the battle with gravity and begin to fall.
Chapter Eleven
Lancelot
“Fuck,” I shout as Gwen goes down. Casting aside my sword, I run to her and catch her up into my arms. I let her fall once before, I’ll never do that again. “Gwen, oh, God.”
Panic races through all of my nerve endings as her head lolls and her body goes boneless. I glance up at Brooks who is kneeling at our sides. “We need to get her inside.”
He places his palm on my shoulder and I turn my gaze from Gwen up to him. His dark eyes are filled with a quiet calm as though he senses she’s all right. Standing, I hold her close to my body, letting myself feel the rise and fall of her chest.
Walking through the open doorway, magic sits heavy in the air, a barrier open only to us. There’s nothing but damp stone walls and dirty floor in the small, round space. This wasn’t used to house people. This was a look-out, a defense mechanism. Brooks runs outside, calling the horses back from wherever they’d hidden while the beasts attacked.
Gwen whimpers in my arms, the bleeding has stopped, but the streaks of red make my heart clench. “It’s all right, I’ve got you,” I murmur, pressing my lips to her temple.
Brooks is so tall he has to duck his head as he comes back through the doorway, but he’s got bedrolls and a pack with him. “Supplies,” he says, closing the door behind him. He rolls out the thin pad that has to serve as a mattress and I lie Gwen down, then grab a blanket from his outstretched hand. “Warm and rested. That’s what she needs. She over-exerted herself.”
“You’ve seen this before?”
He shake
s his head. “I can feel it. Our…bond. The handfasting was more than a simple ritual.”
I nod. “It was a spell. I’m aware.” Jealousy builds in my chest. I know she loves me as well, but I want her bound to me, connected, just as she is to him.
“I can sense her. Whether she’s in danger. Whether she’s alive.”
“And now?”
“She’s hurting, but she’s not going to die. Tonight, she’ll rest, recharge, and tomorrow, we’ll continue our search for Nimue and the scabbard.”
“Are we certain Nimue has the scabbard?”
He shrugs, his dark brows pulling together. “Isn’t that what the Lady said?”
“She’s assuming. But why go looking for Nimue at all if we don’t know for sure the scabbard is with her? We should be trying to find what we need, not something else to fight.”
“Gwen seems sure this is the path we need to take.”
I don’t like putting her at risk. She’s strong, but then, she’s always been so. This is different. Looking down at her sleeping form, the small wrinkle between her perfectly shaped eyebrows, the tightness around her eyes even in repose, I know this is too much for her. “Then we should go after Nimue. Not Gwen.”
“That’s not likely to happen,” he says, a laugh in his voice. “Our Gwen is nothing if not determined to stand alongside us.”
Our Gwen. He’s accepted this unconventional arrangement so easily, and I have to fight the urge to relax into the concept as well. “You’re…changed from the man Arthur was.”
He nods and sits on the hard stone floor, back pressed against the wall, one hand on Gwen’s hair. “It’s a different time, Lance. People are allowed so much more now than when we were…” he trails off, as if unsure how to finish. Then he closes his eyes and takes a long breath. “When we were…important to one another.”
“Do you remember the time we rode off in search of a dragon that had been terrorizing a nearby town? You and Gwen hadn’t been married long, but she was so worried about us both.”
