"Show yourself," he snarled, his grip tightening on the hilt even more. "I have no fear of you."
"Perhaps you should."
He jumped forward as the heavenly voice whispered in his ear. Turning about, he gaped at the sight of the woman before him. Dressed in a gown so red that it was inhuman, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Her pale hair and skin were a stark contrast to the vibrancy of her dress.
"Who are you?"
She licked her lips as she gave him a seductive pout. "I am Morgen, queen of the fey."
He angled his sword at her, ready to kill her if she tried to take it from him. "I don't believe in the fey."
She gave him a mocking smile. "Then explain the sword you hold at my throat. Explain how it killed the men who were after you without touching them."
He had no explanation of how the men had been struck down. It was magical and not born of this earth. Even now he could feel the life force of the weapon he held. Feel the power of it. It was changing him somehow. The sword seemed to be alive, whispering its will into his mind.
The woman held her hand out to him. "Come with me, boy, and I will make you a king."
He scoffed at her outrageous offer. "King of what? Peasants? Beggars?"
"Nay," she said in her voice that was rife with promise and seduction. "I can give you riches and power beyond your wildest imaginings."
He found that even harder to believe. "I have quite an active imagination and I am no fool. No peasant becomes a king unless it is king of the lowest, and of that I have no need. I've been a ruler of them since the hour of my birth."
Morgen cocked her head as she studied him curiously. "So mistrustful, my evil heart. But have no fear. A peasant can become king when he isn't really a peasant."
Her words gave him pause. "What say you?"
She reached out and boldly brushed the blade of his sword aside with her hand. With no regard of the danger, she approached him slowly, swinging her hips suggestively. "You were hidden, boy, by those who were afraid of your birthright. They knew that you were destined to find this sword and to become the greatest king the world has ever known."
Kerrigan closed his eyes at her words. Dare he even begin to believe or to hope? A chill went over him. One that was intensified as she raked a cold finger down his right cheek.
"Come with me and I will show you a world of wonders where you will never again know hunger or want."
He couldn't breathe as he thought of that. How he wished it were so. All his life he'd had nothing. Never enough food. Never enough clothing.
Never dignity.
His entire existence was one of burning, painful wants. Of a yearning so strong that it had left blistered scars on his soul.
"Morgen!"
Kerrigan opened his eyes as he heard the sharp cry of a woman's voice. This newcomer stood tall and proud, like an Amazon warrior. Her long red hair was plaited and drawn off her sharp, angular face. She was pleasing enough in looks, but there was a harshness to her features that made her seem jaded and cold.
Not to mention she wore the golden armor of a man. It gleamed in the dim light, obscuring any trace of womanly curve to her body.
A knight stood by her side. Only two inches taller, he had a face that would rival any woman's for beauty. His features were fragile and perfect and set off by the mass of wavy golden hair that fell haphazardly around his face.
Kerrigan had never seen anything like them or the strange golden armor they wore.
Morgen moved to stand beside him so that she could drape one long, shapely arm over his shoulders. "Well, what have we here? The Monk and the Frigid. What an interesting combination Merlin has sent this time."
The woman drew her sword and stepped forward. "He belongs to us. Move away from him, Morgen, or perish."
Morgen laughed out loud. "You can't kill me, and we both know it. Now sheath the sword, Elaine, before I use it to mess up that pretty face of yours." She took a minute to breathe in his ear. His body hardened instantly.
Laughing again, Morgen toyed with his ear as she continued to talk to Elaine. "You know the rules, Queen Frigid. We both have an equal shot at our little man here. He is the one who has to choose which path to follow. Your way or mine…"
Elaine cursed.
Morgen ignored her. "What will he do?" She sucked her breath in sharply as she stepped away from him to taunt the other two. "The suspense is killing me…Oh, the agony and horror of waiting."
"Then I say we drag it out," Elaine said dryly. "With any luck you'll perish and end this war once and for all."
Morgen curled her lip until she looked back at Kerrigan. Her face softened into the tenderest of expressions. "Come with me and I will give you whatever you desire. Wealth. Power. Women. No one will ever mock you again."
Kerrigan's heart raced with desire. It was too much to hope for, and well he knew it. All things had a price. No one ever gave up anything without wanting payment for it. "And what is the cost of that?"
"There is no cost. You will join my fey army as their leader and king. You will have your every wish fulfilled." Morgen returned to nuzzle his neck and purr into his ear. "Even I will be yours."
He drew his breath in sharply as an image of her naked and in his bed flashed through his mind.
"Stop that, Morgen," Elaine snapped. "You can't plant images into his head. 'Tis against the rules."
Morgen shrugged before she stepped away. The images vanished from his thoughts. "Fine then. Make him your offer and let him see your virtue."
Elaine tried to soften her face in the same manner as Morgen, but it didn't have the same effect. It only looked as if she were in pain. "Come with us and you will join the side of all that is good and decent in the world."
"We are champions of right," the man said. "My name is Galahad, and we serve a higher order. Chastity, sacrifice, and humility are our oaths. Join us and know that your life will be spent making other lives better."
Elaine grimaced at Galahad as if she could kill him for his offer. As it was, she did strike his shoulder so hard that he grimaced in pain.
Kerrigan stared at the two of them in disbelief. Were they serious? What did he need with chastity? Indeed, he'd spent the whole of his nights trying to find women to ease that burden from him.
As for sacrifice and humility, he'd been bred to them both, and quite frankly had had more than enough of it in his short lifetime. To hell with that.
Galahad held his hand out to him. "Give us your sword, lad. Join our order, and you will have the family you have never known."
And there was another thing that had never served him well. Even if he knew who his father was, he was certain the man had been a bastard of some sort. Not to mention, his own sweet mother had once tried to sell him.
Family…they could shove that as well.
Morgen licked her lips hungrily. "Swear your sword to me, boy, and you will have the power to make anyone who tries to teach you humility turn into toads. Let the monks have their chastity and family, and let us live our lives to their fullest. Take what you desire and make it yours."
There was no decision to be made here. At least not for a boy such as him. He'd entered this world damned from birth as a nameless bastard. If he had to leave it, then it would be on his own terms.
He turned to Morgen. "I will go with you, my lady. And I will be your champion."
"Chastity," Elaine sneered at Galahad. "You had to pick that one, huh?"
Morgen laughed in triumph as she turned toward Elaine and Galahad. "Welcome to my world, boy. I promise you, you will be glad you chose my cause…"
Seren closed her eyes as those memories faded, to be followed by others of Kerrigan and his service to Morgen.
Like all the others before her, the queen had lied to him.
There was no peace in her service. He had power, and wealth, but nothing else. There was no comfort. No friendship. No warmth. Only lies and enemies had awaited him.
The sword wa
s as much a curse as it was a blessing.
Overwhelmed by his emotions and her own, Seren felt herself slipping. Falling.
She didn't want to live like that. Alone. Suspicious. Cold. Ever watchful and angry. Ever cruel.
Closing her eyes, she saw herself again at the loom in their small shop. Wendlyn was there, laughing while they worked. Marie was handing them more thread. The sun was bright as people walked before their window, peeping in at them.
"When I am married," Wendlyn said cheerfully, "I shall bring peppermint tarts here for all of you and tell you tales of how great it is to own your own shop."
Marie laughed. Her blue eyes twinkled with good-natured humor. "Well, when I am married, I shan't have enough time away from my husband to be visiting the likes of you."
Sara, who was far too skinny and pale, had scoffed at her. "What of you, Seren?"
Seren had paused in her work to stare dreamily out the window at a passing couple with a small child between them as they crossed the street. "When I am married, I will come back with my husband and liberate whoever is still working here. I shall offer you all jobs and we will eat peppermint tarts until our bellies ache."
Wendlyn had leaned over then and given her a hug. "Our Seren, ever thinking of us first." She'd squeezed her hard before she returned to her work. "You will have your husband. I know it. And he will be a fine man indeed."
"Aye," Marie had agreed. "Only the best for our Seren."
Only the best…
Seren opened her eyes to find herself sitting on the floor in Kerrigan's lap. He had his arms wrapped around her as he continued to rock her gently.
The voices of the past were silent now. All gone. They left a peculiar emptiness inside her. She felt the same and yet she didn't. She had more knowledge now. It was as if she were somehow connected to the universe around her. She could feel the force of it. The beauty. The power.
Her body trembling, she reached up to place her hand to Kerrigan's cheek. For once, his skin wasn't cold. It was almost a normal temperature. His whiskers scraped her palm as he opened his eyes to stare down at her.
Time seemed suspended as their gazes locked and held. There was nothing more hidden between them. She had glimpsed this man's heart and found it every bit as cold and merciless as he had claimed.
In his life, he'd known nothing but suffering as those around him used him for their own purposes. The insults of his past echoed in her head. They stung and they mocked.
And she learned that there were some scars that never healed. Some pain that time didn't dull.
Her poor Kerrigan…
Wanting to comfort him, she pulled his head down so that she could capture his lips with her own.
Kerrigan cupped her head in his palm as he opened his mouth to welcome her inside him. He'd had no idea of what sharing his powers with her would do to them.
Now he knew.
For the first time in his life, he'd seen another existence from the inside of it. He'd heard the gentle sound of her mother's voice. Had heard the laughter of the women she worked with. The acceptance. The love. It boggled him.
But more than that, it tore him asunder. Now he knew what he'd never known. He was privy to normality. To kindness and caring. No wonder his little mouse was so calm and gentle.
Pain seized him as he realized that such a life was forbidden to something like him. There would never be such decency in his world. No laughter or comfort. He'd made his decision long ago to be a demon lord and to live among others who were cruel like him.
His child, however, was another matter. He wouldn't allow it to be born in Camelot. Not with Morgen and her court there to corrupt and ruin him.
No matter what it took, he would see Seren and this child safe.
Somehow he would find a place for them so that she could live and give love to a part of him that he would never know. A part of him that he wouldn't see or hold. His child…
It was for the best.
Pulling back from their kiss, he offered her a smile. "You've been through much this day, my lady. You should rest."
Seren drew a deep breath as her fingers lingered on his mouth to toy with his lips. "I am tired, and at the same time, I'm not." She glanced up from his lips to those dark eyes that smoldered with his fire. She remembered now what they had looked like as she'd seen him before Morgen had entered his world. "Your eyes used to be blue."
"That was a long time ago."
Seren leaned back against his chest so that she could see him better. "Tomorrow we will stand together and we will fight Morgen."
He shook his head. "We can't. It will still take some time for you to get used to those powers inside you. There are times even now when mine get the better of me."
"Perhaps, but I feel so peaceful right now. At ease. It's as if I've always had my powers." She kissed his scarred knuckles and inhaled the warm scent of his skin.
Kerrigan wished he could make her understand the truth of what she was feeling. But to be honest, he was enjoying this moment with her. He was warm. Most of all, he was at peace. There were no angry voices that wanted to strike out and hurt whoever was near him. There was no pain.
There was just the two of them lost in this one moment.
But tomorrow would be a different story. Tomorrow Morgen would meet them and he would be weak. Seren would have her powers, but no real experience wielding them. Their only hope rested in the hands of a grouchy gargoyle who might or might not betray them.
Damn. How he wished that he could take them someplace far away from here. Someplace where there was no Morgen, no magic.
Your life is ever one of wanting.
It was true. Wanting more was what had led him to be here with her. It was what had led him to her.
And on the morrow, it would be what most likely led him to his death. Because as he held Seren in his arms, one thing became painfully clear. His exchange with Seren hadn't changed her nearly as much as it had changed him. He wasn't what he'd been…
You were changed before you initiated her.
It was true and he knew it.
Caring for her was a weakness. It left him vulnerable, and he held no doubt that Morgen already knew it was his Achilles' heel. If he made one misstep, one tiny miscalculation on the morrow, Morgen would win and he would be dead.
Chapter 13
Kerrigan spent the night lying in bed with Seren. The demon within him wanted to leave her, but the man didn't, and that was the part he'd been listening to. His sword was fastened on the wall above his head while they were entwined naked underneath the covers.
His body ached from the strain of the shield, and even now he could hear the gargoyles and dragons outside, trying to tear through it. Tomorrow, he hoped, they would be free of this.
Oblivious to the sounds outside, Seren was draped over his chest, sleeping peacefully while he toyed with her silken hair. Her breath tickled his chest and made his nipple pucker every time she exhaled.
He knew that he should leave. He had no business allowing this little creature into his withered heart.
No one could ever be trusted. Yet she filled him with unknown emotions that weren't violent or cold. And as he lay with her in his arms, he began to have even more peculiar thoughts.
He imagined her holding his child…caring for it.
In his mind, he could see himself as a merchant, working in his shop with her by his side as their children ran about, laughing and playing. He could see the sunlight streaming in through the large windows, highlighting the pale hair of a young daughter as she laughed and tried to catch the beam in her chubby hand.
Seren's sweet voice filled his ears with praise for their daughter's accomplishment…
"Oh, you are an imbecile," he breathed, banishing those images. What an insipid dream. Merchants and peasants were pawns. They were fools and beggars.
He was a king. Granted, king of the damned, but king nonetheless. And the world was his for the taking.
His corona
tion had been in blood and in fire. In truth, he liked it. He didn't want to be kind or compassionate. Ruthlessness was the only thing that served a man well. The weak suffered while the mighty took what they wanted.
And he was mighty.
He would never again be that pathetic, thieving peasant who was mocked and belittled by others. Those days were blissfully past, and they would never come again. He would make sure of it.
Kerrigan felt the warmth draining out of him. The fire returned to his eyes. Leaning his head back, he felt the magic flow through him once more like chilled wine that invaded every corner of his soul. Aye, he was formidable, and he fully intended to stay that way. Strength was all that was respected in this world and in Camelot. And his strength more than all the others.
His resolve set, he moved out from under Seren and dressed himself in his armor.
Refusing to look at her, he pulled Caliburn down and strapped it to his hips. The time for weakness was past. This had been a nice interlude with Seren, and he would make sure that his child didn't suffer. But in the end, he had to return to what he was.
The king of the bad asses. There was no place in his world for a consort. There was only room at the top for one person and that was he. He didn't need Seren and her petty emotions tying him to her. All he needed was his sword and his magic. To hell with everything else.
Seren sighed as her dream turned to a sweet, warm day as she'd known in her youth before she'd become an apprentice. Her mother had taken a job with the tailor of a small village in Yorkshire.
While her mother worked, she was playing in a field not far from the cottage of the woman who watched after her. She wore her pale green kirtle that her mother had stitched with yellow dragons along the hem. It was her favorite gown.
With her head thrown back, she was turning circles in the field, watching the beautiful blue sky spin around and around above her.
"Seren?"
She paused in her play at the sound of her mother's cadent voice. She stumbled a bit as the dizziness hit her. "Aye, Mother?"
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