Claiming Excalibur

by LH Nicole

  Aliana looked up from the groaning guys and glanced around, realizing that the two people they’d gone to rescue weren’t there. She turned her eyes to Wade, hoping he’d say that Joe and Michelle were safe and unhurt at their homes.

  “Aliana,” he said quietly.

  She numbly pushed to her feet, her wide eyes swinging from one guy to the next. Each of them either looked down or watched her with sympathy. “No,” she whispered, tears welling in full force.

  “Tell us what happened!” Dawn demanded. “Wade, please.”

  Lancelot stepped forward. “Mordrid had a trap set. When we got there, he knew almost immediately it wasn’t you.”

  “I told you I should’ve gone!” She was unable to hold back her angry words.

  Lancelot dropped his eyes and Merlin took over. “Mordrid didn’t hold up his end of the bargain, either.”

  “Is my mom still…alive?” Dawn asked weakly. Wade stood close to her side but when the knight tried to touch her, she jerked away.

  “We don’t know, lass,” Leo said solemnly. “But we have to believe so.” He pulled the iron box from a small bag and set it on the coffee table.

  “What do you mean? Didn’t he bring them?” Aliana asked. Her attention shifted to Arthur when he stood. She saw hesitation in the king’s eyes and knew she hadn’t heard the worst yet. “Tell us.”

  “We believed they were there at first,” Merlin said, “but when we got closer, we realized they were only magical visions.” He looked past her to Arthur, then to Galahad.

  “Stop with the looks!” Lacy shouted.

  Merlin pulled a small, wadded piece of cloth from his pocket. Aliana stared at it, blinking. Her chest locked up and her arms felt frozen at her sides. When she didn’t take the piece of fabric, Merlin flipped it open to show what it held. Aliana covered her teary scream by throwing her hands over her mouth. In the fabric was a stubby, bloody finger with a plain gold and silver ring at the base. A ring her papa had given Joe for his fiftieth birthday a few years ago. Everything seemed to fall away except for her godfather’s stolen appendage. This was her fault. If she’d been there, Mordrid would’ve held up his end of the deal. Another person she loved, the only father figure she had left, was dead at worst and gravely injured at best, all because of her. Why hadn’t she tried harder to get there?

  Sparks flooded her, shattering the vortex around her. Her blurry gaze met Galahad’s blazing blue eyes. He gently tugged her hands from her face, but she jerked away from his touch as fear, anger, and guilt drowned her. Before she realized what she was doing, her hand shot out, and she slapped Galahad with all the furious strength she had.

  His eyes grew large enough that they could’ve fallen from their sockets. The room went dead silent. Aliana stared at the bright red handprint on her former knight’s cheek. Sparks continued to tingle up her other arm, and she jerked away from him, hissing, “Don’t touch me.”

  Galahad’s eyes darkened. A pained, mournful look replaced his shocked one. “Aliana, please.”

  She suddenly felt like a deer surrounded by a pack of wolves. The world was falling in on her, trying to strangle her with pain and heartache and death. “I can’t breathe in here,” she heard herself gasp.

  Galahad reached out, his hand grabbing hers before she could pull back. “Aliana.” She ripped her hand from his not wanting to feel their sparks when she could barely even stand to look at him.

  “I said don’t touch me.” Her voice was too choked to be louder than a stage whisper. “You lost that right when you locked me in my room like I was a child!” Galahad stood stock-still, his face a riot of guilt, loss, and desperation.

  “Lia,” Wade said, and it was suddenly too much for her. She whipped around and ripped open the back door, no longer locked by Merlin’s magic, and ran away into the early evening light. She heard the girls yelling and glanced back to see them and Dagg blocking Galahad and Wade from following her. A sob escaped with a heavy rush of tears, and Aliana darted into the woods, down the path that led to the beach. The trees passed in a blur, and she felt the ground beneath her change from hard earth to shifting sand. She kept moving until she reached the ocean’s edge where small waves swished onto the beach. Falling to her knees, she didn’t care that the wet sand and salt water soaked into her jeans.

  Giant sobs escaped as the image of her uncle’s severed finger sprang into her mind. The guilt of her godfather’s circumstances, the guilt of her parents’ deaths, the guilt of Lacy being attacked and Dawn’s mom being taken crashed down on her. Why is everyone I love in danger because of me? She wrapped her sand-coated arms around herself, sobbing so hard she started to cough.

  A warm hand touched her chilled body, and she jerked, getting to her feet. She met the caring, golden brown gaze of Arthur and let out another sob, trying to cover it with her sandy hand. Without any real hurry, he reached up and brushed away her tears. “Hey,” he whispered, “it’s going to be all right.”

  “Why didn’t you guys listen to me?” She looked at him with aching eyes. He pulled her into his arms. “Why won’t you guys ever give me a chance?” Her tears turned furious as she beat her fists against his chest. He held her tighter and murmured words she couldn’t quite hear, but they somehow calmed her, and she fell into him, burying her face against his chest.

  He rocked gently, his hands smoothing down her windblown hair and rubbing her back. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. She cried out every tear she had, and Arthur never once made a move to let her go, never did anything but comfort and calm her.

  Sniffling and fighting hiccups, Aliana wiped her wet cheeks. “I made a mess of your shirt,” she said weakly.

  He grinned. “Thankfully, there’s a much easier way to wash clothes in this world. I believe you call it a wash-box.”

  Surprised laughter escaped her as she rubbed her eyes. “It’s a washing machine.” She was finally able to breathe normally again. The breeze picked up around them and she breathed in the scent that was unique to Arthur. He always smelled like summer—warm, slightly sweet, and fresh like the morning dew. “Why did you stand by and let Galahad and Merlin manipulate me to get their way?”

  He ran his hand down her hair again. “Part of me says that no matter how much I hate the thought, you should always be with us. But then I think of everything that could go wrong and how badly you could get hurt, and my instincts tell me you need to stay out of danger.”

  “Even if it means the choice is stolen from me?” Her voice was raspy from all the crying. “You say you want to protect me, but every single time you guys do something without me, it goes horribly wrong and you get hurt.”

  He leaned in, letting his forehead rest against hers. His hand came up and circled her neck. “I know. I don’t agree with what Galahad and Merlin did, but no matter how mad you may be at me—at us—I can’t say it was the wrong decision for you to stay here.” Aliana stiffened, but his fingers rubbed circles on her back and neck, and she relaxed again. “Back on the Isle you said that you had complete trust in me. Is that still true?”

  She tried to decide what she felt about him. He was the only one of them who’d let her voice her opinion and seriously considered it. As shattered as her heart was, there was a small bit that remained intact—a part she now realized he’d staked a claim on the moment she’d awoken him with her kiss. Her cheeks heated, and she glanced up at him through her lashes to see him focused on her, only her. “Yes, I still trust you,” she whispered.

  The corners of his mouth turned up. “I know you get feelings about things, and I’ve learned to trust those, but can you honestly say you believe you should’ve been there tonight?”

  That had her pausing. What had she felt besides betrayed? She thought back to the cold dread she’d felt during Morgana’s visit, but that had been for the safety of her godfather and Michelle. Thinking about it with a calmer mind, she could see what she hadn’t been able to when swamped with worry. Morgana and Mordrid were too smart to not have a plan for
the chance that she might actually show up. She thought about being there, whether her presence could’ve changed anything, and doubt bubbled up like her magic. “No,” she said, her voice thin with the realization.

  Does that mean I can forgive Galahad? She clutched Arthur tighter, her aching heart thudding in her chest.

  “Aliana.” She pulled back and focused on Arthur again as he spoke. “You’re not the only one who gets a feeling of right and wrong in these situations. And every instinct in my body still tells me that it was right for you to remain here tonight.”

  “But what about Joe and Michelle?” Her eyes drooped a bit as Arthur’s massaging fingers lulled her.

  “I’m sure they’re still alive. They’re too important to you, and Mordrid needs a bargaining chip. He knows it would be foolish to kill them. I swear to you, I’ll do everything I can to save them.”

  Aliana studied him for a long moment and felt his vow was sincere. “Just don’t count me out or deny me the chance to help.”

  Arthur nodded, his hand trailing from her neck to cup her face. His thumb stroked her cheek. “What happened today won’t happen again.”

  “I know my weaknesses and that having me in battle with you can be risky, but please, I need you to believe that I’m smart enough to know you guys are the experts in those situations. I will do what you tell me.”

  “Okay.” His thumb stroked her cheek again, brushing the corner of her lips. She felt warmer, safer, and less heartbroken, as if a golden web was slowly pulling the tiny pieces of her shattered heart back together.

  His golden gaze bored into hers, and it struck Aliana just how handsome her king really was. She remembered the last time they’d been this beach, holding each other like this. She recalled her desire to feel his lips on hers. His eyes dropped to her mouth, and his head dipped closer to hers. Her heart thudded in her ears, her body swaying closer to his. This time he didn’t pull back. Instead, he took her mouth in a coaxing kiss that had her melting into him and turning her lips up to his. He pulled back an inch, his breathing harsh, his eyes all but glowing.

  “Arthur,” she breathed, and that was all the encouragement he needed. He swooped down and took her mouth again, his hand tangling in her chocolate locks. The hand at her waist pulled her flush against his heated body, and the world opened up. He kissed her with a fervent but controlled need, sucking at her lower lip before running his tongue across the seam of her lips, asking for entrance.

  She opened her mouth to him, and he swept in, staking a claim. Half of her savaged heart cried out that this was wrong. Galahad was the man she loved, her soul mate. But the other half, the part that was slowly being salvaged, wouldn’t let her break away. She pressed herself against him and cupped his face, raising on her tiptoes and kissing him back as passionately as he kissed her.

  “Aliana? Sire?” A questioning voice interrupted the bliss as faraway sparks danced under her skin.

  Aliana pulled back, turning her head toward the voice. A furious looking Galahad stood at the edge of the beach. His blazing eyes swirled with outraged, berserker darkness.

  23

  He was kissing my Aliana! Seeing the intimate moment between them back on the Isle had enraged me. It only grew worse when Aliana didn’t tell me about it. Now my king is with the woman who owns me! I knew the instant I brought her to her room as a prisoner I was making the biggest mistake of my life, but I won’t lose her. Everyone I’ve ever loved has been taken from me. I refuse to allow Aliana to be one of them. And if that means I have to force the king to remove his hands from her, so be it.

  ~Galahad

  “GALAHAD, WAIT,” ALIANA SAID, stepping toward the enraged knight. Arthur held her back, turning his body to shield hers.

  “Step away from him,” Galahad growled, his voice dangerous and his body moving into a stance she recognized from their sparring sessions.

  “No!” Adrenaline pumped like lava through her veins as Galahad watched her and Arthur in the predatory way a lion does when stalking its prey.

  “Get back, my lady,” Arthur commanded in a low voice. “He’s not in control.”

  “Get. Away. From. Him.” Galahad’s fists clenched and released. Everything seemed to slow, like on a TV show when the pounding fight music was about to swell to life.

  “Move now!” Arthur ordered her a split second before Galahad launched himself. Aliana jumped aside, her feet taking her several paces away. Galahad’s fist slammed into Arthur’s cheek with a stomach-turning thud. Arthur’s his head snapped to the side, and a small spurt of blood flew from his mouth.

  “No!” Aliana’s hands trembled as Galahad drew his fist back again. Arthur blocked the punch, throwing an upper cut to Galahad’s chin.

  The men stepped back, eyes fixed solely on each other. Arthur wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth while Galahad spat out his own. Aliana’s unbelieving eyes darted back and forth between the two of them, trying to figure out an effective way to intervene before they seriously hurt each other.

  “You will cease this fight right now, Sir Galahad,” Arthur commanded, his kingly tone filled with assurance of his right to command such a fierce warrior.

  Galahad’s eyes flicked to Aliana, and he turned back to Arthur with a snarl. “She is my lady!”

  “I am no one’s lady!” she shouted, but the berserker knight didn’t seem to hear her. He feinted left, and the instant Arthur moved, he shifted right and attacked, his fist glancing off Arthur’s raised arm before he struck the king with a vicious knee to the gut. Arthur gripped Galahad’s forearms, pulling the knight with him as he fell. Using the momentum, Arthur pushed with his legs the second his back rolled onto the ground and sent the knight sailing over him. The sand around Galahad puffed under his weight as he slammed down.

  “Stop it!” Aliana pleaded.

  Arthur struggled to pin Galahad, but the knight used his Herculean strength to twist the king onto his back. His fist connected with the Golden King’s cheek again. Aliana darted forward just as Arthur kicked his friend off of him. Acting on instinct, she placed herself between Galahad and Arthur, fighting her compulsion to obey the king when he shouted for her to move.

  Galahad’s fierce eyes met and held hers. He was on his feet in seconds, his arms wrapping around her like a vise as he pulled her bodily away from Arthur, who struggled to his feet. “I’ll destroy you for touching her.”

  “Stop and think, Galahad,” the king pleaded with his brother-in-arms. “You’re not in your right mind, and you’re hurting her!”

  Galahad’s arms loosened a fraction as he looked down at her. His eyes cleared for a nanosecond before clouding over again. Son of a monkey. He really isn’t in control. She pulled her hands free and gripped Galahad’s face between them. Closing her eyes, she pushed the sparking silver stars of their bond into him, seeking into his mind. She found the crumbled remnants of the shields she’d built to help him control the dark magic within him. A touch of electric gray magic surged through the rubble, and she realized the shields must’ve been damaged when Galahad had pushed her out of the way of Mordrid’s attack.

  She felt his body shift, his arms softening as they cradled her instead of caging her. His breath evened, and she felt clarity return to him. She rebuilt the shields, fortifying them with the swirling power of her ruby and destroying all traces of the gray magic.

  Aliana fell back into her own body, gasping as she searched Galahad’s blue gaze. She sagged in relief when she saw only the swimming emotions of regret and love lightening his eyes. “Aliana.” He breathed her name like it was a talisman and claimed her mouth with his before she could protest.

  The golden web that had started to spread inside her with Arthur’s kiss warred against the familiar sparks. She cried out in pain against his mouth. The ruby’s magic rose within her. She brought her hands up and pushed away from Galahad. Falling to her knees, she gripped her head and squeezed her eyes against the turbulent conflict inside of her. Hands touched her, a
nd the blistering pain intensified, wrenching a tortured scream from her mouth. It’s ripping me in half!

  “Calm your mind, Aliana.” Dagg’s voice penetrated the haze of pain. “You must take back control!”

  “I can’t. It hurts too much!” The hands and pain shook her like an earthquake. “I need to go. I can’t take any more agony!” Her magic rose like a sunburst, and suddenly the hands were gone. All she could think of was escaping to a place where she could be alone.

  The pain receded and the only sound Aliana heard was the crashing of waves against rocks. Still on her knees, she dropped her hands from her head and sucked in a deep breath of briny, ocean air. She looked around, taking in the deserted pier and dilapidated wooden dock that had once served as a place for local cruise ships to load and unload their passengers.

  “How did I get here?” she asked the night, getting to her feet. Her eyes fixed on a spot on the ocean not too far from the dock. She could still see the mid-sized ship strung with glittering lights and fake tiki lamps. She still heard laughter mingled with faint notes of music, still smelled the savory scent of roasting meat and sweet nuts wafting from the dinner cruise. She still felt the same fear eating at her as when she’d waited for the boat to dock and her parents to meet her. She’d planned to finally tell them the truth about Josh. They’d known something was wrong after she’d come home from the party, but they hadn’t pushed her. Why would they have? She’d never hidden anything from them before.

  Aliana stood among half a dozen other people, waiting for the boat. Her fingers twisted together as she shifted from side to side. She was too worried to stand still for even a second and had to force herself to stay on the pier. Her insides churned with dread that something really bad was going to happen. But would her parents really react so badly? Guilt choked her. She knew they’d be upset that she’d kept this from them, especially when they discovered Aunt Michelle had known. But surely they wouldn’t stop loving her for it. Would they? But why else was her “sixth sense,” as Lacy and Dawn called it, freaking out like a fish trying to escape a shark?