Primal Temptation pg-4

by Sydney Somers

  “Measures have been taken to ensure both the huntress and the wraith are equals among you.” Maeve gave him a smug look.

  They’d restricted Nessa’s ability to flash, a god-like power that nearly always gave a huntress the edge during a confrontation. Lucan knew his ability to slip into shadow remained intact, at least partially.

  “The attack in the parking lot,” Briana murmured, her gaze falling to the spot where Lucan had been wounded fighting the Fae warrior. She spun around to face Maeve, her voice dangerously low. “Troll’s blood?”

  Their blood was toxic and slowed the healing process. It should have occurred to him before now that the Fae’s sword had been tainted with it.

  Maeve shook her head. “The effects are temporary and merely to insure a more fair competition.”

  If all his wounds took as long as his hand to heal, he definitely wouldn’t be at full strength during the competitions.

  “Where was I?” Maeve’s cheerful grin mirrored a spoiled child’s. She strolled past Nessa and Elena. “You will remain here for the duration of the competition. If you agree to participate and then choose to leave the games before their conclusion…”

  Aren drew an invisible blade across his neck, to Maeve’s giddy delight.

  She clapped and spun around. “Until your brands are removed, you will be restricted to our home and the competition sites. Communication with anyone beyond these walls is strictly forbidden. It would be unfair to seek information or guidance from those without a personal stake in the games.”

  Circling the wolf and the Korrigan, the goddess came to stand beside her brother who picked up where she’d left off.

  “There are certain…protections in place here to prevent you from injuring each other in between competitions. How you choose to deal with your competitors during the games is your choice, but know that the weapons available to you are not capable of a killing blow. At least not until the final round.”

  Lucan knew well that killing was a mercy the gods would resist when pain and suffering would be so much more amusing.

  “And the prize?” The Korrigan asked.

  Maeve beamed as though they’d finally gotten to the good part. “Whatever your heart desires.” Her gaze slid from Briana to the wolf. “Bargaining power?” She glanced at Kel. “Validation? Forgiveness?” She turned to Elena. “Or perhaps strength.”

  The sorceress shifted under the goddess’s penetrating stare, but there was no denying the flash of interest in Elena’s eyes.

  Maeve’s knowing gaze found Lucan’s. “Or maybe retribution?” She turned away. “As I said, whatever your heart desires. The possibilities are endless.”

  “And what prize could grant such things?” the Korrigan pressed.

  Maeve paused, her fingers idly tracing the design in the stone half-wall. “Do you doubt me?”

  The Korrigan bowed his head. “I’m merely curious about the mystical object that could grant such gifts.”

  Maeve lifted her hand and a trail of mist followed in its wake. A shape took form at the center of the darkening, swirling clouds.

  “Excalibur,” Nessa murmured.

  It wasn’t possible. Lucan took an involuntary step forward as though it would put him one step closer to the king they’d lost. A ray of light caught the tip of the blade and for a moment it hurt to look at Arthur’s sword.

  An illusion.

  Lucan knew it in his gut. So why then did it feel like his chest was pinned beneath the boot of an enemy, the pressure agonizing?

  Not real.

  The sword had been lost soon after Arthur’s fall. Constantine, Arthur’s heir, had forged six daggers that would supposedly lead to Excalibur when united. Lucan put no more faith in the daggers accomplishing such a thing than he did in the smoke and mirrors trick the goddess had just pulled.

  Arthur was gone and no amount of treasure seeking would change that. Maybe Lucan couldn’t argue the daggers’ existence, but immortals—present company included—needed to stop looking to a myth to change their fate.

  Some things simply could not be undone.

  “I’m sure you forgive me for not revealing its location at the moment.”

  “Excalibur was lost after the battle at Camlann,” Nessa insisted.

  “Was it?” Maeve smiled. “You have until sunset to decide whether or not to participate.”

  The gods vanished as quickly as they’d appeared, leaving everyone else still staring at the faded glimpse of the lost sword.

  “Parlor tricks.” The Korrigan argued. “They couldn’t possibly have the sword if they’ve just awakened.”

  “Just awakened for them could be a century for us.” It was the first time the Fae had spoken since the gods had appeared.

  Eyes dark, the Korrigan shook his head. “Even if they did have it, winning the weapon would be a death sentence.”

  “Maybe your pea-sized brain has forgotten how powerful that sword is.”

  The Korrigan glared at Nessa. “I haven’t forgotten anything, certainly not that to possess Excalibur would invite war with either Rhiannon or Morgana. Or both.”

  “Any war could be won with Excalibur in hand,” the enchantress put in, her sing-song tone deliberate and designed to weaken a man’s will. Or a dragon’s. She hadn’t taken her eyes off Kel throughout the exchange.

  “Is that so?” The Korrigan shot a finger at Lucan. “Ask him how well that foolish belief worked for Arthur.”

  There was no arguing with that, and everyone knew it. But neither had Arthur relied on Excalibur to fight his battles for him. The sword had been a symbol as much as the blade he’d used when he’d found no way around it. As far as Lucan knew, Arthur had never taken the weapon for granted, or the responsibility that came with possessing it.

  Briana crossed her arms. “That’s assuming Maeve or her brother don’t have their own agenda for the sword. With a Campaign coming, what better immortal ally to have on their side than one who possesses Excalibur?”

  “Why wouldn’t they just give it to an immortal of their choosing?” Elena asked, proving that the reckless sorceress wasn’t as flighty as rumored.

  “Which proves it’s all a hoax.” The Korrigan walked away, apparently done with the conversation.

  “Why do the gods do anything they do?” the Fae mused aloud, ignoring the shorter immortal’s departure.

  “Because they can.” It was the only truth Lucan knew. With no real consequences for their actions, no one to hold them accountable, every decision the gods made mirrored their selfish outlook that every being’s sole existence was to entertain them.

  Even the rules of the game, ones that allowed an immortal to supposedly win the entire competition by claiming a victory in the final round alone were a farce. Just one more way for the gods to show everyone else who was in control.

  No one said anything for a long moment.

  The enchantress and Kel were the first to follow the Korrigan back inside the mansion. Elena and her new wolf friend trailed behind them soon after.

  “What do you think?” Briana glanced at Nessa.

  The huntress glanced back at the spot where Maeve had offered them a glimpse of the prize. “If there’s a chance it could be real… We could bring Arthur back. Restore the balance of power in Avalon. We could be free.”

  Briana frowned, her gaze considering.

  A knot the size of Camelot’s round table lodged in Lucan’s throat. “You’re not thinking of staying?” She didn’t have the kind of training for something like this. He wasn’t sure even her brothers did.

  Her brows scrunched together. “You’re not?”

  Lucan didn’t answer. He had no interest in becoming another god’s puppet or using the Gauntlet to slip Rhiannon’s leash. Even if he believed the latter was possible, fantasies of freedom could undermine his already fragile control. Or worse, they could make him forget his responsibility to safeguard Excalibur.

  Although he had his doubts that the prize was real, he couldn
’t risk Arthur’s sword falling into the wrong hands. Any one of the immortals present could be seduced by Excalibur’s power and drag all of Avalon down with them.

  But Elena was right about him needing a supply of blood. If he was strong enough he could go a couple days, maybe three, without it. Any more than that and he chanced losing himself to the wraith who wouldn’t hesitate to satisfy its hunger from the closest source.

  How long had it been since he’d fed last? Twelve hours? Eighteen?

  Nessa cleared her throat, and Lucan realized his gaze had locked on Briana’s neck.

  He shook off his sudden preoccupation with blood, and focused on the bigger problem. “You can’t stay here.”

  Determination squared Briana’s shoulders. “If there is even a chance—”

  “Don’t be naïve. That sword is probably no more real than the sunlight.”

  She met his eyes but not without taking a soft breath, the pulse beneath her jaw quickening a fraction. “It’s not your call.”

  “Don’t make the decision to stay because you’re angry with me.”

  “Angry?” she echoed, her voice turning glacial.

  “Ooookay.” Nessa took a couple of steps back. “I’m gonna go and see if Elena has turned the wolf into puppy chow yet.”

  He waited until Nessa and the Fae were out of earshot before continuing. “What happened in the alley—”

  “There’s no point in rehashing it. You made yourself perfectly clear.”

  Lucan searched her face for the raw emotion he heard in her voice, but found only stubborn resolve. “I never wanted to hurt you like that.”

  Wildness brightened Briana’s eyes, and he knew she was close to letting her feline half to the surface. “It’s over with, right? We have other things to deal with.”

  He forced himself to nod. “Getting you home comes first.” If Tristan wouldn’t be happy to hear about what happened in the alley, the gargoyle would destroy Lucan for letting her enter the Gauntlet.

  “I’m not your responsibility.”

  “I promised your brother—”

  “That you would make sure I kept my clothes on,” she shot back, tugging at the shirt she wore. “Job well done.” She said nothing about how close they’d come to sliding her pants all the way off, or that those clothes hadn’t stopped him from touching her…everywhere.

  “I told your brother that you would be safe with me. What part of the Gauntlet sounds safe to you? It’s a death match.”

  “That’s not what Maeve—”

  “Come on, Briana, you’re not that stupid.”

  She flinched as if he’d struck her, but he made himself keep going. Saving her life was more important than sparing her feelings. “Do you think Kel would hesitate to cut you down at the first opportunity? He betrayed his king on the battlefield, leaving him vulnerable. If he could stab Arthur in the back, what would stop him from driving a sword into yours?”

  Crossing her arms the same way her brothers did when they weren’t about to be swayed, Briana waited.

  “Or the Fae or the Korrigan,” he pressed. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to be at that creature’s mercy, a slave to his whims? Because that’s exactly what would happen if a competition took us close enough to his territory that he could access the dark magic there.”

  She tipped her chin up. “I know the risks. I can handle myself.”

  “You’re good with a sword and are one of the best trackers I know, but that doesn’t make you qualified for something like this.” He exhaled a harsh breath. “You weren’t even supposed to be here. If you hadn’t gotten out of the car in the parking lot and attacked that Fae—”

  “The Fae that almost killed you?” Her eyes narrowed dangerously, the glow of her eyes entirely feline. “Not that it matters anyway. I’m here now.” And not damn well leaving, according to her tone.

  “You don’t have to be. It’s too dangerous for you to stay.” Why couldn’t she see that? “Your brothers—” he began.

  “Are not here.” Her expression softened. “You know as well as I do all of them would stay if they were in my place.”

  There wasn’t a doubt in his mind of that. Her entire family was far too devoted to finding the daggers, not even realizing that Rhiannon would take advantage of that loyalty until it no longer yielded her results.

  All too aware that he was rapidly losing the fight to get her far away from here, he went with another approach. “By staying, you make us competitors instead of allies.” The wraith snarled in his head, disliking any claim that Briana was the enemy.

  Her shoulders stiffened. “If that’s your preference.” She turned away, and on instinct, he grabbed for her wrist.

  “Briana, wait.”

  Slowly, she faced him, staring down at the hand that held her. “You really want me to go?”

  Something flickered in her eyes, making him wary. He nodded, releasing his hold on her.

  “Then give me a reason.” Vulnerable and still so damn beautiful it stung to hold her gaze, she looked at him the same way she had centuries ago. “Give me a reason to leave with you, Luc.”

  He didn’t have the luxury of telling her what she wanted to hear. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “Tell me what you really felt in the alley.”

  A cold fist closed around his heart, squeezing tight. “We’ve already been through that. It was just a spell.”

  She stepped toward him, her expression hopeful, and it was killing him. “And right now, here, you feel nothing for me?”

  “I want to keep you safe.”

  “Why?” She searched his eyes, but he refused to let her glimpse anything that would hurt her later. And he would. He had before and nothing had changed since then.

  “I promised Tristan,” he finally said. It crossed his mind to lie to her, to take advantage of the spell that must still be lingering in her system, but admitting feelings he could never act on would be far worse than watching her be disappointed in him all over again.

  “Right.” Briana wanted to cringe when her voice cracked.

  She’d known where they stood, had felt every word they’d exchanged in the alley slice into her heart. And still she’d let herself hope, even if it was for just another few seconds, that maybe he’d changed his mind, realized he’d made a mistake.

  “I’m staying.” Her words were careful, controlled.

  “Then you’re a fool.”

  Briana refused to let the comment sting. “Or maybe one of us needs to believe.”

  He clenched his jaw. “Believe in what?”

  “That some things can be changed if you’re willing to fight for them. The same thing Arthur believed in. The same belief that made you want to become one of his knights.”

  Lucan snorted. “Like the Korrigan said, look how that turned out.”

  Something inside her broke a little. He’d warned her in the alley that he’d never been the man she thought he was, and for the first time she had to face that maybe she had been wrong about him.

  “The hunt for Excalibur can turn even the most trusted friend into an enemy. Your wolf or huntress friends would betray you for even a taste of the power or strength they could possess if they got their hands on Arthur’s sword. Do you realize that?”

  “Not everyone would sacrifice their friends and loved ones—”

  He laughed bitterly. “Of course they would. Under the right circumstances everyone is capable of betrayal.”

  “Including you? You’d betray friends and people you cared about?”

  He took a step toward her, close enough she could read the sincerity in his eyes. “In a heartbeat. To be free of Rhiannon, I, especially, would be capable of anything.”

  “You wouldn’t hurt me.”

  Lifting a hand to touch her, he seemed to think better of it, making his words even more unexpected. “You would be the easiest of them all to hurt.”

  “You’re not making any sense.” She took an involuntary step
back, chilled by the hardness in his eyes. “Why are you so determined to leave when staying could mean the difference between an eternity of servitude or getting your life back?”

  “Do you honestly think winning will accomplish anything aside from trading one god for another? I don’t need another god manipulating me or taking the things I care about and hurting them, torturing them just to inflict more pain. Because that’s what they do. They wait and see what matters most in this world and when you lower your guard, even just a fraction, they swoop in and destroy it.”

  Her eyes widened. “Is that what Rhiannon did to you? Is that why you—”

  He grabbed her arms, hauling her close, his grip unbreakable. She would have thought the wraith was in control if not for the furious green eyes boring into hers. “Rhiannon had nothing to do with what I said in the alley. She’s not the reason I don’t want to be with you.”

  The cat in her roared at the denial, dragging its claws along the edges of her mind and heart, shredding the last of the hope she’d secreted away. For just a moment she’d imagined winning the sword and using it to bargain with Rhiannon for Lucan’s freedom, and for what? Over and over again he’d made his feelings perfectly clear. He didn’t want to be with her. Didn’t want a future with her.

  “I get it.” Three little words, and they ravaged her throat, tearing her down as much as they hardened something inside her.

  “Then tell me you’re not staying.” His grip tightened. “I can’t be saved.”

  The emotions heaped on top of each other crumbled, leaving in their place an arctic resolve to survive the Gauntlet—to survive Lucan. “If I’m staying to save anyone, it’s myself.”

  Confusion ran riot across the handsome face a part of her still ached to touch. The cat’s needs warred with the woman’s better judgment, urging her to slide her palm across Lucan’s cheek. In another time and place, she could picture his forest-green eyes, so full of secrets and shadows, sliding closed as he lifted his hand to cover her own.

  Only it would never happen.

  Staying was her only option now. She couldn’t go home and face her brothers knowing she’d passed up the opportunity to fight for Excalibur. What would she tell them? That she was too scared? In over her head?