by LH Nicole
She intended to sneak up to the bed, but as soon as she cleared the closet, she was pinned against the wall by Galahad’s large body.
“Galahad,” she squeaked.
“Aliana?” He instantly released her. “How did you get in here?”
She smiled coyly, wrapping her arms around his neck. “This was your surprise.”
Galahad held her as he peered over her head. “Is there a secret passage to your room?”
Aliana couldn’t tell if he was concerned for her safety or delighted by the possibilities.
“There’s a staircase that leads from my room and down to my dad’s office on the first floor.”
Smiling, he pulled her over to his bed and sat down, holding her in front of him.
Like this, Aliana was slightly taller than him. It was nice to be the one to swoop down and give a lingering kiss. “I thought this would be a nice way to say good night.”
“I very much like it,” Galahad whispered, pulling her down to sit across his lap.
“I can’t stay long. Dagg will be up soon.”
“Then let’s not waste what time we have.” Galahad took her mouth in a proper good-night kiss. Aliana’s toes curled as she ran her fingers through his hair, delighted when she felt his smile against her lips. He pulled away and kissed a trail down her throat.
His teeth nipped playfully at her neck, tickling her as their sparks danced happily across her skin. “Don’t you dare,” Aliana said, laughing. “Lacy already has a hickey. I don’t need one too.”
“Too bad,” he said, nipping her again before kissing the spot. “I’ll save that for next time.”
Aliana giggled into his mouth as his lips returned to hers. She was so grateful to have him, and after today, she needed something to push away her nightmares that rarely relented. She kissed him harder, wanting to leave him as breathless and pleased as he always left her.
He flipped her to lie on the bed and settled his body against hers. “Aliana,” he breathed her name before kissing her throat again.
The passion burned ever brighter, magnified by their sparks. His lips returned to hers, and she moaned at the feel of his body pressing her into the mattress. His hand slowly trailed down her side and slid beneath her tank top. Her thoughts scattered as she lost herself in pure feeling. His hands were slightly rough as they traveled up her side, stopping just below the built-in bra of her top. One of his legs pushed between hers.
Something penetrated the spark-fueled haze of her mind. Before he could move his hand any higher, Aliana placed her hand over his, stopping him though she didn’t really want to. No one she’d ever dated before had ever made her feel so cared for or beautiful or desired. “Galahad, we can’t.”
His breath whooshed out in a sigh, and for a second Aliana feared he would get angry with her like Josh used to when she’d stop him.
“I know,” he whispered. He nuzzled his nose against hers, removing his hand from her shirt. Ever so gently, he brushed her hair back from her face. “I’m just grateful I’m able to touch and kiss and hold you like this.”
“You’re not angry?”
His brow furrowed. “Why would I be angry? I don’t ever want to do anything you don’t wish to. I could never hurt you like that.”
With those words, one of the last walls that guarded her heart splintered and fell away. “I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you, too.” He kissed her deeply and passionately before pulling away and helping her to her feet.
Aliana swayed for a moment, and Galahad laughed, sounding oh so smug before walking her to the door to the hallway.
“Good night.” Aliana hugged him, turning her face into the crook of his neck and breathing in his wintery, spiced scent. He placed another hot kiss on her neck.
“Good night.” He watched her retreat to the stairs. His door clicked closed and Aliana couldn’t contain her enchanted smile as she dreamily made her way up the main staircase.
A soft noise drifting up from downstairs caught her attention. It sounded like someone was playing her mother’s piano. Curious about whom it could be, she turned and headed down the stairs.
She stopped just outside her mother’s old music room and listened to the notes as they floated through the small space where the door was cracked open. Whoever was playing was very gifted. The more she listened to the beautiful song, the more she heard the underlying sadness to it. The music flowed around her, telling a story of heartbreaking love and aching loneliness. Tears pricked at her eyes. Aliana had to know who was so hurt, so she peeked through the opening. Her eyes landed on the profile of a raven-haired man with a lean build. He swayed as he played with his face turned away from her. He slowly turned forward. His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly tilted down, his face etched with sorrow and solitude. A single tear slid down his cheek as he started the song again. How could Lancelot be in so much pain without everyone here knowing?
His head snapped up, his pale green eyes burning with uncontrolled anger, rooting Aliana where she stood. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” He shoved the piano bench back as he stood.
“I-I…” Aliana stammered as he advanced on her. His body moved with the lethal grace of a jungle cat. He crossed the room in a flash, yanking the door open and roughly grabbing Aliana’s arm. He viciously yanked her into the room, nearly pulling her off her feet completely.
“Why are you spying on me?” he demanded, still gripping her arm, pulling her so close she could practically feel the rage rolling off him.
“I wasn’t…I was…I heard music,” Aliana tried to explain, but her words tied themselves on her tongue.
“Answer me Destined One! What the bloody hell do you think gives you license to spy on me?”
“I wasn’t spying on you!” she finally got out. “I was going up to bed and I heard the music. I didn’t know who would be in my mother’s music room so I checked it out.” She gulped down the dry lump in her throat. Lancelot had yet to relent on his crushing grip. Every word she said seemed to only fuel his ire. “I was surprised to see you. I didn’t mean to intrude!”
He roughly pushed her back, releasing her arm and turning away from her. Stumbling to catch her balance, Aliana watched his shoulders hunch forward, his hands scrubbing roughly over his face.
“Did you write that song for Guinevere?” Aliana chanced asking him. This could be the key to knowing why he’d truly left Arthur’s side after Titania had created the prophecy. She’d never believed the reason he’d given—that he merely went looking for Merlin.
He wheeled around, pinning her with his angry gaze. “Do you think just because Arthur and Galahad defend you, you have the right to pry into everyone’s private life?”
“No, but…”
Lancelot cut her off with a slashing motion of his hand. “You need to go upstairs and keep your nose out of others’ private affairs. Guinevere is none of your concern!” His face flushed with fury.
Aliana’s temper flared. “Do not talk to me like a child!” she whispered angrily, not wanting to yell and wake the whole house. “I’m as much a part of this as you are. It’s been obvious since we first met that something has closed you off to everyone around you. All you do is lash out at us.”
Lancelot stood with his body ramrod stiff, his balled fists shaking. Aliana felt like she should be buried in a thirty foot grave by now. Despite his anger, she didn’t back down. She wanted answers and thought that in this state, she might be able to force him to admit why he’d abandoned Arthur and Galahad. There had to be a better reason than that he’d wanted to look for Merlin. There had to be! “Why did you really leave Arthur’s side in Avalon?”
Lancelot’s face turned a deeper red and his pale eyes raged with so many emotions: anger, betrayal, confusion, and endless heartbreak.
“Get out of here right now, Aliana,” he ordered in a low, shaky voice.
With her trembling hands on her hips, she stood her ground, her body between him and t
he door. “No. I’m not leaving till you answer my question!”
“If you won’t leave, I will. Step aside.”
She refused to move. “Answer my question. Why did you really leave Avalon and Arthur?”
“Step aside or I’ll make you.” His face was directly in front of hers.
“You won’t hurt me. It goes against everything the Knights of the Round Table stand for.” Aliana wasn’t sure how it was possible, but his face got even redder. She could almost see steam blowing out of his ears.
“Clearly I was willing to go against the code before. I could easily do it again. Now, move!”
“Why did you leave Arthur and Galahad? Was it really because you wanted to make sure Morgana hadn’t killed Merlin after he left or was it because you wanted to try to find Guinevere? Did you really think she’d still be out there alive?”
Lancelot snapped. He grabbed her shoulders, roughly shoving her against the wall and knocking the breath from her lungs.
“What do you want me to say?” He growled like a dangerous, wounded animal. “What do you want to hear, hmm?” His hot breath fanned her face. “Do you want to hear that I wanted to die? Do you want to know that I hoped Titania would kill me for leaving so I could be with my Guinevere, the woman I loved more than anything in the seven realms?”
Aliana’s eyes widened. Of all the answers she’d expected to hear, that was nothing close to any of them.
“Do you want to know that I was dying day by day not knowing what fate had befallen my love, that I saw her every night in my dreams, everywhere I looked, begging for me to save her, to find her?” Angry tears glistened in Lancelot’s eyes, but he seemed unaware of them. “I left Avalon hoping that Titania would kill me for breaking my vow so that, at the very least, I could escape the memories of my Guinevere that haunted me every moment of my life.” A tear slipped down Lancelot’s flushed cheek. “Arthur has my loyalty, but my love will always hold my heart! How can anyone be expected to live without their heart?”
Aliana remembered Lancelot’s words from weeks ago: “In every life, when I start to mature, the memories of every previous life I’ve lived return to me. Every detail from every life is fresh in my mind. I can’t forget anything. Every scent, every sight and sound as clear to me as the moment it happened.”
Titania had killed him, but her vengeful cruelty for his understandable but selfish act hadn’t stopped there. She wouldn’t allow him to have a single thing he truly wanted. Not even death. That was his punishment.
Aliana’s heart broke for him. She understood completely how he felt. Her family had been her heart, and she’d often thought she should have died with them on that boat fire. Her own tears formed, but she held them back. She wouldn’t cry for him where he could see it. He would hate her even more if he thought she pitied him. Aliana didn’t pity him. No, she understood his pain and she ached right along with him.
Lancelot released his brutal grip on her shoulders and stormed out the door. Aliana followed him but stopped in the hall as Lancelot disappeared through the door leading to the kitchen. Seconds later, she heard the back door open and shut.
Her tears finally fell. She threw her hand over her mouth to cover her sob. No one deserved to hurt like Lancelot did.
“Aliana?”
Her tear-filled eyes shifted away from the kitchen door. Arthur stood a foot from her, deep sadness etched into the lines of his face.
“Did you hear any of that?” she asked.
“Yes, I heard.” But Aliana didn’t see any surprise in his expression.
“You already knew, didn’t you?”
Arthur nodded sadly. “Not in such detail, but yes, I knew.”
Aliana didn’t like to let Lancelot go off on his own when he was hurting so much. She made a move to follow him, but Arthur’s hand grabbed hers, holding her back. His gaze fell onto the red marks on her shoulders from Lancelot’s grip.
“I will see to him.” He massaged the irritated red marks. “I won’t let him face his pain alone any longer.”
“Isn’t there something we can do for him, some way we can get his Guinevere back?”
“I don’t know, but I intend to do everything I can to find out. All of my knights have given more than I could have ever expected of them. I’ll do all I can in return to give them happiness again.” Reaching up, Arthur brushed away Aliana’s tears and smiled. Then he turned and followed Lancelot’s path.
She watched Arthur disappear before dashing up to her room.
“What’s happened?” Dagg asked when she leaned against the inside of her closed door.
She told him everything while crawling under her covers. “Did you know about Lancelot?”
Dagg sighed from his spot on her pillow and nodded.
Aliana winced. “I didn’t mean to hurt him. I was surprised and I wanted to know why he really left.”
“The Fae queen is cruel, no doubt.” Dagg’s claws touched her hand. “But I also know that Titania isn’t the only power in the seven realms. We may yet find hope for Lancelot, but it won’t be easy. He’ll have to prove himself loyal and regain his honor before any good can come.”
Aliana stared out the skylight, hoping Dagg was right. Everyone deserved to be with the person they loved.
Several hours later, the morning sunlight spilled into Aliana’s room, waking her from a restless sleep. Still sore, she trudged into the bathroom and got ready for the day. She could already hear one of the other girls shuffling around in the attached room. Today they’d go to her papa’s old office at the school to try to find the book from her dream vision. That meant she wouldn’t have to train this morning.
Pulling on a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a white and silver halter-top, Aliana headed toward the kitchen, hoping Galahad would already be there. Flora and Stella were busy setting the table and helping their eldest sister prepare food. Flora grinned and waved.
Aliana waved back, happy to see her trouble-loving Pixie friend. “Is anyone else up?” she asked Sabine as the Pixie zipped around the kitchen preparing breakfast. The Pixies had created a small home for themselves in the woods by Aliana’s house, much like they had by Merlin’s house in London.
“Not yet, but I suspect soon.”
Slightly disappointed, Aliana left the kitchen and walked toward her father’s home office and the music room. Lancelot’s haunting tune still filled her ears. Shaking the memory of the music away, she went to the end of the hall where another oak door waited for her to turn the knob. With a shaking hand, she gripped the cold brass and opened the door to the room that had started this whole adventure.
Leaning against the doorframe, unable to enter, Aliana remembered the last time she’d been in her papa’s den. She’d found her two birth certificates—one with her parents’ names and one with the name of a woman she didn’t know—and fled across the ocean to London.
The room was still full of half-packed boxes and historical ornaments. His oversized desk took up a large chunk of the mid-sized room. A small couch sat against a long window—her mother used to sit there reading as her papa worked. Aliana looked at the fireplace and furry rug that she used to lie on to read her latest book. More than once she’d fallen asleep by the warm fire, but that was before the deadly yellow blaze that had taken her parents’ lives and nearly taken her own life.
“Being back is hard for you.” Aliana nearly smacked into the doorframe when Galahad placed his large hands on her tense shoulders.
“You scared me!” she said, placing her hand over her heart.
“I though you would have heard me coming.” His warm hands massaged her tight shoulders. “But you seem lost in another world.”
Leaning into his touch, she shook her head. “I was just thinking.”
Galahad sighed deeply, his hands squeezing her shoulders before turning her to face him. “I understand how you’re feeling right now. My parents were murdered when I was young.”
Aliana looked into his blue eyes, surprised.
“You never told me that.”
“Sir Belvoir and his men found us just after it happened. He raised me as his own, trained me to be a knight.” His hand rubbed light circles on her back.
“I was just remembering how things used to be,” Aliana confessed, hoping that sharing some of her pain would help lessen it.
“Why were you looking through your father’s things before you came to London?”
Aliana turned in Galahad’s arms, leaning her back against his chest. She studied the office until she found her voice. “I was in New Orleans working on a photo commission several months ago. I was walking the French Quarter when I came to a fortuneteller’s stand. I took a few pictures, and she called me over. I thought she was going to be upset with me, but she sat me down at her table. ‘You feet mus’ be achin’ after running so hard, chère,’ she told me. ‘Folks thinkin’ the’ can run from de past and they ghosts never find peace.’”
Aliana laid her hands over Galahad’s, remembering the feel of the woman’s cracked, dry hand on top of hers and the smell of sweet tea on the woman’s breath. “I tried to ignore her, but she kept insisting that I needed to stop running and face what was haunting me. She said I’d never again know what a real life ‘filled with love, happiness, and adventure’ felt like until I faced my past. It took me another two weeks before I came home.”
Galahad hugged her tighter, his chin resting on her shoulder, silently supporting her. “When you returned home you discovered your adoption.”
Aliana nodded, turning her face toward his. “I guess she was right. I never would have been in London if she hadn’t pushed me to come home. I never would have been in Avalon’s forest, and I never would’ve found you or Dagg or Arthur.”
“Do you regret it?” Galahad asked, a worried kind of seriousness in his eyes.
