Beyond Time: A Dark Order of the Dragon Novel (The Dark Order of the Dragon Book 2)

by Sandra Bischoff

  “Beth, I won’t hurt you I promise.”

  Her struggling waned as he kissed and nipped her throat. Her jugular danced under his lips. Lance started moving against her again. He licked along her collarbone. She shivered beneath him. He glanced at her face. Elizabeth’s eyes were closed, her mouth in a relaxed sigh.

  Smiling against her smooth skin, he continued to nibble his way across her shoulder. Before he thought twice about it, he bit down, breaking her skin with his fangs. She screamed and bucked underneath him, a desperate attempt to push him away. Her struggles eased as a wave of intense pleasure radiated out from the bite spreading like wildfire.

  Lance threw his head back. The wolf howled. It had claimed its mate. A feral growl escaped his lips as he thrust forward one last time. His body shook from the intensity of his orgasm. Never had he felt anything this powerful. Sex had always been sex for him. There was never a connection on a higher level. Never anything this intense.

  When the last wave finally receded, Lance relaxed. He dipped his head, running his tongue over the wound left by his fangs on her shoulder. Gazing at the small holes in her otherwise perfect skin, the reality of what he had done slammed into him.

  He had marked her.

  Not only had he marked her, he changed history.

  Fuck. Me.

  What they had done could never be undone. He was a dead man.

  Lance pressed his forehead to Elizabeth’s. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to forget the look of absolute horror on her face when she saw him for what he really was. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t told her about the wolf. But hearing it and actually witnessing it emerge were two completely different things, especially when staring the truth right in its glowing wolf eyes.

  He placed a gentle kiss on her lips and rolled to his side, taking her with him. Lance wrapped his arms around her and stroked her bare back with a feather light touch. The magic of the wolf’s claim still surrounded them like a cocoon. It was only a matter of time before it vanished. When that happened, Lance couldn’t even fathom what her reaction would be to what took place between them.

  Would she ever look at him again? Would she forgive him?

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Elizabeth’s bearings gradually returned. The decadent fog surrounding her mind faded. She nuzzled her cheek against a pillow of solid muscle sighing. Every inch of her body felt like molten gold, unable to solidify. Her eyes drifted open lazily and she tilted her head to look at whoever caressed her back.

  Her gaze met Lance’s. She pulled back and scooted to the opposite side of the bed, pulling the covers with her.

  “Stay away from me. You are a demon!”

  “Beth, I’m not a demon. I told you,” Lance kept his voice calm and even. “I’m a wolf.”

  Elizabeth’s fingers covered the still tender spot on her shoulder where he bit her. “Then why did you bite me?”

  Lance looked at her sheepishly. “If I tell you, you’ll probably want my hide above the fireplace in Arthur’s hall.”

  Her eyes narrowed on him. “I will be the one to decide that.” He reached for her and she slapped his hand away. “Nay. Stay where you are, Christian. Now tell me what happened here.”

  He expelled the air from his lungs. “Something I suspected since we were trapped in the cave.” She frowned at him. “You are my mate, my wife.”

  Elizabeth let out a short laugh. “Your wife? I am sorry to have to inform you of this, but I am betrothed to another. I cannot be your wife.”

  “I don’t think your betrothal is going to happen now.”

  Her mouth opened and closed. Had she really gotten her wish? But at what price? “I am ruined.” All of her bravado evaporated. “What will happen to me?” She looked up at him, sadness filling the air between them. “What will they do to us?”

  This time when he reached for her, she went willingly. Lance lay back and gathered her in a warm embrace, kissing the top of her head. “I don’t know. I’m not about to let anyone hurt you. They can do what they want to me, but if anyone dares touch you, I will tear them to shreds.”

  Lance touched her chin to tilt her head up. He smiled half-heartedly. “You are my mate, Beth. I will gladly lay down my life for yours. Whatever awaits us in Camelot, know that when I leave here, you will be at my side.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes. “Do you mean that? You will take me with you?”

  “Let them try to stop me.” He captured her mouth with a kiss that curled her toes. When they came up for air, he wiped away the stray tear rolling down her cheek. “Now get some sleep. As soon as the sun comes up, we head back to the castle.”

  Elizabeth rested her cheek on his shoulder and wrapped an arm around him. She yawned as her eyes drifted closed. “I wish we could stay here instead. I would much rather remain in your arms than face my uncle’s wrath.”

  “You and me both, cher.”

  Nineteen

  Gazing into the swirling water sphere hovering above the river, Semiramis’ lips twitched. Although she returned to the present, she had been watching Christian for well over a month. Everything progressed according to plan. His father, Sir Lancelot, and the rest of Arthur’s knights did a wonderful job molding him into a first in command Jared could be proud of and turn to in any situation. It was only a matter of time until he faced his final test and returned home.

  “I take it by the smile on your face, it’s been done?”

  The sphere exploded and rained down over the water below. Sam pulled her shawl tighter as the cold November wind blew in from the distant shore. “He is more resourceful than I originally gave him credit for.”

  “I did warn you Lance would recognize me. Albeit my younger self. How could I deny him my help?” Zephyr stepped forward placing his hands on her shoulders. He dipped his head to whisper in her ear. “The storm was perfect, if I do say so.”

  Sam laid a hand over one of his. “I couldn’t have done it better myself.”

  The wind whipped the long dark tendrils of her hair around them. Her grey eyes swirled. She turned to face him. Sam cupped his cheek with her hand. A green mist surrounded Zephyr. As it dissipated, he was left wearing vibrant green armor. “Do you think he suspects anything?”

  “Nay My Lady. None of them do.”

  They began walking toward the Victorian on the hill. Zephyr’s armor faded back into black jeans, silk shirt and his leather duster. “The Green Knight is dead, Sam. When you released Lancelot from your service and allowed him to love, I let that part of me go. I only agreed to train the pup because you asked it of me. I never realized the kid would be more stubborn than his father ever was. I think I deserve mental health pay for putting up with him.”

  Semiramis shook her head. “He is not that bad and you know it.”

  Zephyr grimaced. “That’s your opinion.”

  “That it is.”

  They reached the cobblestone patio. “Were you able to obtain what I asked for?”

  He reached inside his coat withdrawing a long black velvet box. “It was difficult to find exactly what you wanted.” Zephyr opened the box lifting the delicate gold wolf’s head locket.

  Sam took it holding it up in the moonlight. “It’s the perfect vessel for my gift.” Her eyes glowed as she looked up at Zephyr. “Let’s hope I get a chance to give it.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Knights from all over the kingdom gathered for the King’s Feast. The fragrant smell of leather, cooked meat, and ale hung in the thick air. A deafening rumble of merriment filled the hall. Trying to hear ones thoughts in such an atmosphere was beyond the scope of reason.

  Heavy is the brow that wears the crown.

  Arthur raised his goblet, taking a generous swig as he searched the crowd for his niece. When he gave her permission to ride earlier in the day, he never dreamed it would end the way it did.

  The storm came upon them so quickly no one had a chance to prepare for it. The last he had seen of Elizabeth was her racing for the edge of the forest with La
ncelot’s son in her wake. While he knew she was an exceptional rider, he wasn’t sure how she would fare once the horse was spooked by the storm. Even the most experienced knight could be easily unhorsed by a lightning or thunder. Let alone a simple girl.

  A gentle hand covered his. Arthur placed his cup on the table and lifted his wife’s fingertips to his lips.

  Guinevere leaned closer. “Has there been any word of Elizabeth or Christian?” She spoke low, only for his ears.

  “Nay, and I am becoming more concerned. Even with the storm, they should have returned hours ago.”

  “Mayhap they found shelter in the woods. There are plenty of cottages and caves. You and Lancelot have said so.” She kissed his cheek. “I am sure they are fine, my love.”

  Arthur snorted. “That is what I am afraid of.”

  The Queen frowned. “How so?”

  A heavy sigh escaped him. “I have been approached about breaking Elizabeth’s betrothal. It stands to reason ‘tis because her heart lies elsewhere. Although this may be true, this match must stand. All of our future happiness depends upon it.”

  “Arthur.”

  “Nay, Gwen. Do not try to change my mind.”

  She cupped his cheek, forcing him to look at her. “I will not try. I will succeed.”

  He shook his head sadly. “There are forces at work here you know nothing about.”

  “Enlighten me, my husband. For I do not know any force greater than love. If the Lady loves another, we both know there is nothing that will keep them apart.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “Aye, ‘tis true. Why do I not seek counsel with you before I make foolish decisions?”

  “I wish that you would. Then mayhap we would not have to clean up so many messes.”

  “The Queen is a wise woman, Your Majesty. You should listen to her more often.” A deep rumble of laughter echoed over Arthur’s shoulder.

  “Ah, Lance. I was wondering when you would arrive.”

  Lancelot waited for Elaine to take her seat then took his own on Arthur’s right. “Nothing could keep us from sharing in the festivities, Your Majesty.”

  A page stepped forward almost immediately with a heavy wine skin. He filled their goblets, being careful not to spill any on the table. When done, he bowed low and disappeared back into the shadows.

  “You should take your own advice, my husband.” Elaine raised a brow, smirking in Lancelot’s direction.

  Arthur burst out laughing. “My Lady, I do believe Lance has more sense than I do in this area.”

  Elaine smiled over the goblet she held. “If you say so, Sire.”

  “Aye, that I do.” Lancelot winked at his wife playfully. “And this is a discussion we shall continue later, between the two of us, Elaine.”

  Galahad stood at the entrance to the great hall. He surveyed it with a keen eye, hoping to catch sight of his father before they joined the King’s table. What he had to tell him was not something the King needed to hear right now.

  “Keeping that information to yourself would probably be best.”

  Galahad pulled the dagger from his belt and whirled to face the man belonging to the deep voice behind him. “Show yourself.”

  Zephyr emerged from the shadows, pulling his hood back so Galahad would recognize him. “Put that down before you hurt yourself. I am not your enemy here, remember.”

  Reluctantly, Galahad placed the blade back in his belt. “Why are you lurking where someone might actually see you? I thought you preferred to remain hidden.”

  “I might ask you the same question. However, I already know the answer. Would you accept a little friendly advice?”

  Galahad nodded.

  “Do not tell anyone. Let the information lie. Christian and Elizabeth will return tomorrow.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “I know much more than I am ever given credit for.” Zephyr grinned, flashing his fangs.

  “You will not scare me into silence, vampire.”

  Zephyr grabbed him by the throat and pinned him to the stone wall. He bared his fangs, hissing. “Then you are either very brave or very stupid. Heed my word, human. If you tell anyone where they are, you will change the fabric of the fates. We all must play our part. I did. Now ‘tis your turn.”

  “And what part is that,” Galahad grated through clenched teeth.

  “Silence.” The vampire abruptly withdrew. Galahad collapsed into a heap at his feet. “All you have to do is keep quiet. Enjoy the banquet. Enjoy the entertainment. Hell, even find yourself a wench for the night. I do not care. Keep the knowledge of where Christian and Elizabeth are to yourself. ‘Tis very simple.”

  Rubbing his neck, Galahad narrowed his eyes at the vampire standing above him. “Simple for you. ‘Tis not in my conscience to lie to my family or King.”

  “’Tis not lying if the subject is not brought up.”

  He stood with the vampire’s help. Galahad met the vampire’s yellow glare with one of his own. “Fine, unless I am asked outright, I will not broach the subject of my brother’s whereabouts. However, I will inform them the horses have returned without their riders.”

  “I concede. But do not force me to conjure another storm. I am already weakened, anymore and I will be forced to feed. I prefer not to do that with the King having a full house.”

  Galahad grimaced. “Nay, ‘tis something I would rather not think about.”

  “As long as we are in agreement.” Zephyr vanished into thin air.

  “I would truly love to go back to being ignorant of magic. I was much better off that way.”

  Galahad stepped into the hall and made his way through the maze of tables toward the head of the room. His father inclined his head in his direction. A false smile plastered to his face, Galahad bowed to all of them taking his seat at the table below.

  A servant brought a trencher from the kitchens. She stood close as she placed it before him. The curve of her breast brushed his arm. The vampire’s advice echoed in his head. Galahad’s hand encircled her wrist before she slipped away.

  “Was there something else you needed of me, M’Lord?”

  He looked up into her hopeful green eyes. But it wasn’t the girl he saw, it was the one woman he could never have, Lady Elizabeth. Galahad shook his head to clear it.

  “Would you have someone bring me some mulled wine?”

  Disappointment fell over her lovely face and Galahad wanted to kick himself. She nodded and drifted away to carry out his wish. It wasn’t long before he spied her across the hall on another knight’s lap. He laughed to himself. She was probably better off without him anyway.

  “Galahad! Come here, lad.”

  His father’s bellow from above brought his attention to the King’s table. The women had already retired to the Queen’s solar, leaving the high table wide open. Lancelot motioned for him to join them and Galahad was more than happy to oblige. Not that he didn’t mind sitting with their guests, it was more the fact that said guests tended to shy away from talking to him.

  The only one who didn’t treat him as though he had a plague of late was Christian. He dreaded the day when his brother returned to his own time. Mayhap then he would leave as well and find his own adventure. While he loved his King and family, nothing kept him here. There were more than enough of his fellow knights to protect Camelot. His heart wasn’t in it anymore. He needed a quest of his own, an adventure.

  Grabbing his mug, Galahad went to join his father. His steps slowed when he realized his father and the King were not alone. The man who sat in the chair Guinevere vacated watched him approach. His hair, the color of a raven’s wing, was pulled back and tied at the base of his skull with a thin strip of leather. The clothes he wore were cut from a cloth so fine it shimmered like a fresh drop of blood in the candle light.

  Everything about the stranger raised a warning in Galahad. From the ominous way his black opalesque eyes assessed him to the false laughter he expelled over some tale the King told. It all pointed to t
he fact that this man was not merely a knight here for the festivities. This Lord had another agenda all together.

  His father rose and eagerly waved. “Lord Rimmon, I would like to present to you my youngest son, Sir Galahad.”

  No, it cannot be. The man he had done his best to avoid sat at the King’s table as if he owned it.

  Placing his drink carefully on the table, Galahad swept down in a courtly bow, gritting his teeth. “My Lord Rimmon, ‘tis my pleasure. Welcome to Camelot.”

  Rimmon raised his goblet to Galahad. “Thank you. A finer welcome and feast I would be hard pressed to find anywhere else.” He tossed back the contents placing it back on the table before him. “Tell me, boy, are you the one who guards my bride?”

  “Aye, one of many.”

  The Lord chuckled. “One of them? Is she that much of a handful that she needs more than one? Will I need to keep her under lock and key?”

  Galahad folded his arms across his chest. “Lady Elizabeth does not need to be handled . She is not a piece of horseflesh nor should she be treated as prisoner.”

  Lancelot shot him a glare. “Son, mind yourself.”

  Rimmon’s eyes flared red for a split second, quickly returning to their black as night color once more.

  The subtle change was not lost on Galahad. He stood his ground. The Lord was definitely not what he appeared to be. Too bad Christian and the vampire were nowhere to be found. He could use someone accustomed to dealing with whatever creature this Lord Rimmon actually was.

  “My apologies, Father. I merely wished to inform his Lordship that Lady Elizabeth has spirit. It would be a shame to see it snuffed out.”

  “That is one way to describe it.” Arthur snorted. “My niece tends to get herself into situations that severely test my patience. But, I’m sure you will have no problem taming her, my Lord.”

  “I beg your pardon, Your Majesty. But I have to disagree.”

  Lancelot placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Galahad, hold your tongue. You know better than to speak to the King like this. I expect it of Christian, but not you.”