Neither Lucan nor Kel commented, but the dragon rose to check Mordred’s weapon.
“Worse than that, then?” Arthur blew out a harsh breath, waiting until a wave of pain passed to speak. “Gwen always warned that my stubbornness would be the death of me.” His laugh was choked off by another cough.
Kel walked back toward them, his expression grim. In the distance more of Morgana’s men spotted them. They were running out of time.
Arthur pulled off his arm band, handing it to Lucan. “Give this to Gwen. She’ll take the news better from you.” He knew he was dying.
“No.”
His friend pressed the band into his hand. “Promise me you’ll give it to Gwen. She’ll never handle it coming from anyone else. She loves you, trusts you. You can’t let my death destroy her.”
Lucan’s throat felt like it was on fire. He shook his head, knowing he’d never have the chance to tell Gwen anything. “I can’t—”
“Vow it!” Grip much too strong for someone slipping away right before Lucan’s eyes, Arthur didn’t relax his grip.
Lucan nodded, sinking one hand into the fur on Briana’s back, needing something to hold on to.
“And tell her…” A spasm ripped through Arthur’s body that left him panting. “Tell her that I waited too long to fight for her. My only regret.” His eyes closed, and he forced them back open seconds later. “I’ll find a way to be with her again.”
If anyone could manage such a feat, it would be Arthur. For the first time in a millennia, Lucan wanted to believe that the rebel king would awaken and reclaim Camelot.
“We can’t stay here,” Kel warned, moving to intercept the first of Morgana’s men to reach them. Briana leaped away to take down one of the approaching wolves racing to attack them.
Lucan glanced down at his hand, expecting to see the arm band Arthur had commissioned to match Gwen’s for their wedding, but found a scroll instead. His fingers closed around it and he shoved it into his pocket.
“Lucan!”
Kel’s warning broke through Lucan’s grief, and he turned. Pain ripped through him, and he stared down at the spear that pierced his back and exited through his stomach.
Briana roared, tearing through three men, and then she was at his side, covered in blood and in her human form once more.
“Luc.”
The spear moved, twisting inside him. Dazed and weak, he glanced down to find a vine and not a spear lodged in him. As quickly as it had appeared, the battlefield was gone and they were back in the chamber.
A chamber alive with slithering vines bent on ensnaring everyone.
The painted forest writhed with life, the vines twisting and snaking around the columns, now tree trunks.
Nessa’s head fell forward, her body marked by battle and bleeding cuts from the thorns. On the other side of the chamber, Vaughn eluded the vines in his wolf form, scrambling under the foliage and snapping his jaw at the ropes of vegetation that pursued.
Elena kicked at the one trying to wrap around her ankle, some of the vines catching fire from her magic. The last burst of flame she threw struck the ceiling and rocks and earth rained down through the canopy of leaves.
“Are you trying to trap us or burn us alive?” Kel fought the vines holding him prisoner next to Lucan.
Lucan twisted as far as he could, searching for Briana. He picked out the Fae, who managed to elude the vines, as well and the enchantress. Like Nessa, she was unconscious.
He scanned the other end of the room, still not spotting Briana. Had she been left behind?
Another vine wrapped around his chest, the thorns piercing his flesh. Fuck.
The pressure on his right arm lessened, and through a blurry haze, he saw Briana cut through the vine. White spots twirled across his vision, blending the ceiling and ground together until he wasn’t sure which was which.
The vine that pierced his chest retreated, and he helped Briana pull the rest of them off him. Nearby, the Fae chanted under his breath, his voice agitated, as a vine swayed in front of him, a cobra poised to strike.
The last vine around Lucan’s waist gave way easier than the others, almost as if it had lost interest in holding him prisoner. More vines abandoned everyone else in favor of cornering the Fae.
The chamber shook violently as another of Elena’s fire blasts struck a wall.
“She’s going to kill us,” Kel snarled.
Briana slipped an arm around Lucan. Not until the warmth of her pressed against his side, taking some of his weight, did he notice his legs had been moments from dumping him to the ground.
Weak from hunger, blood loss and now the poison in the thorns, he struggled to raise his voice above a whisper. “You need to stop Elena.”
The words left his mouth at the same time another burst of fire struck the column closest to Kel.
And everything went dark.
Briana came awake coughing, her lungs working to expel the dust that coated her insides. Her head fell back against the ground, and she took a minute to piece together what the hell had happened.
Keeping her eyes open took tremendous effort. So did lifting her arm. Whatever didn’t ache from being battered and bruised from the battle and vines, trembled with exhaustion.
Her eyes slid shut. Maybe if she just rested another minute… The cat growled softly in her mind, then louder. No sleeping then.
“Luc?” Gritty and heavy, her eyes stung as she kept them open to search the dark.
Something heavy pinned her right side. She pushed at it with her free hand, and the warm weight gave a little.
Lucan?
It took long moments and several deep breaths to slide him off her body, and she lay panting afterward, cursing the toxins in the thorns. She didn’t want to know what else the gods had planned for them if each challenge was meant to be more difficult than the last.
A sound echoed behind her, and she stilled.
“Who’s there?” She squinted in the dark.
A spark flickered, some of the vegetation catching fire. Kel.
He leaned against the wall, something protruding from his thigh. The scent of his blood smelled faintly sour, as did Lucan’s. Another side effect from the thorns, she assumed.
Ignoring the dragon, she used the rays of light to examine Lucan’s wounds. Like wading through water, everything took more effort, and she sagged back down when she finished feeling the extent of the wound on his head—probably from the cave-in. The chunks of rock and debris separating them from the others might as well have been the size of oil tankers for all the strength she had to move them right now.
Sitting up once more, she shook Lucan’s arm, willing him to wake up. The dark had never bothered her before, but she’d never been in the dark and in the catacombs at the same time.
The edgy chill sinking into her bones left the cat anxious.
Kel grunted, and she glanced over her shoulder, watching him yank at whatever impaled his leg. He hissed out a breath, his big body shuddering. Even if she thought his dragon form could push through the barrier without collapsing the roof entirely and burying them alive, it was doubtful he could shift with his leg so badly damaged.
The firelight faded until only the coals glowed in the dark. She thought he meant to leave them in the dark, too exhausted to unleash enough of the dragon to breathe fire, but the room lit up again moments later.
Lucan’s eyes were still closed, his face free of the tension and pain when he’d been with Arthur.
Lucan was Lancelot.
How had no one ever told her that? Stories of Arthur’s best friend were legendary in both Avalon and the human world, even the ones about him trying to steal the heart of Guinevere.
And he and Lucan were one and the same.
The night of the festival centuries ago made more sense now, how close he’d seemed to Arthur and Constantine, their teasing reminding her of her own brothers instead of a leader with his soldiers. While she’d never heard of Lucan marrying, she’d heard
the rumors of Lancelot’s betrothal to Guinevere.
“He’s the only one who can get us out of here, you know,” Kel drawled, either not bothering or unable to hide the pain in his voice.
“Except he’s unconscious,” she pointed out. Though the dragon had to know that already.
“So give him some of your blood.”
A tired laugh made it past her lips. “I’m sure you’d enjoy watching him drain me completely.”
He shrugged. “It would be slightly more entertaining than watching my wound heal.”
“The others—” she began.
“Will be busy looking for the scroll, assuming they’re not in the same position. We’re on our own.”
She nearly choked on her next breath. “We?”
Kel didn’t say anything, but unfortunately that didn’t make his suggestion any less than the best option.
Her gaze fell to Lucan’s mouth. She’d all but dared him to drink from her in the alley and agreed to it on the battlefield. And now she hesitated?
“He won’t kill you.” She couldn’t make up her mind if Kel sounded bored or disappointed by the possibility.
“Have a Magic 8 Ball over there?” Even taking the unpredictability of the wraith out of the equation, there was no way to know how the poison would affect Lucan’s bloodlust.
Something hit the rocks next to her, and she stared at the knife Kel threw.
“I can help if you’re too squeamish to cut yourself.”
Knowing she couldn’t risk losing too much blood when she was already so weak, she made a shallow slice across her palm and pressed it to Lucan’s mouth.
Chapter Eleven
Nothing happened.
Briana applied more pressure, frowning when Lucan’s lips didn’t so much as twitch.
Panic took root in her gut. “It’s not working—”
A hand clamped down on her wrist, holding her still. Her heart kicked against her ribs, and her eyes found Lucan’s. Open and entirely black, they held her in a death stare.
His brows drew together, then the wraith released her. His lids slid closed and when they opened long moments later—another eternity of waiting—they revealed the same forest green that had haunted her dreams for centuries.
“Hi.” Days of emotional upheaval slipped away, replaced by a bone-deep relief that the damage hadn’t been irreparable. She stroked her fingers through his hair.
Covered in her blood, his lips parted, but he didn’t say anything.
“You should have told me,” she whispered.
He thankfully didn’t ask her if she was talking about the Lancelot thing or Gwen or something else altogether. She wasn’t even sure what she was talking about herself, her mind overloaded with too much information in too short a time.
His expression tightened, and he swallowed, his eyes glassy. “He’s gone, isn’t he?”
Knowing he was talking about Arthur, she nodded. “He’s been gone a long time.”
He wet his lips, nodding, and she continued to run her fingers across his forehead. If reliving the loss of his best friend had been even half as hard on him as their earlier flashback, she knew how much he was hurting.
“I wish I had known him better.”
“He was…” Lucan trailed off hunting for the right word.
“Trouble,” Kel finished, his voice nearly as rough as Lucan’s. The dragon leaned his head back, his gaze pensive. “The very best kind.”
The words seemed to wear down some of the tension between the two men, the effect likely temporary given their history. She’d thought she understood Lucan’s hate for the dragon who had betrayed his king, but discovering how close he’d been to Arthur changed everything.
Given the wraith’s predisposition for violence, she suspected the dragon would have been dead by now if not for the gods’ rule against killing each other until the final round of the competition.
Lucan shifted next to her. “What happened?”
Kel answered for her, far chattier than he’d been so far. “That magic-abusing bitch triggered a cave-in.”
“Elena? I thought maybe the Fae did something.” He tried to sit up.
“You need more blood first.” She held his shoulders in place to keep him from rising. It should have been a challenge on a good day and altogether impossible as weak as she was now. The fact that Lucan didn’t even resist her meant he was worse off than she thought.
He touched his fingers to his lips. “Yours?” When she nodded, he shook his head. “But you’re not…stone. The venom in my fangs should have triggered the change.” He shook his head, disbelieving. “You have control of your shift?”
Her heart-rate spiked, the words she’d been holding onto for a while now, trapped somewhere between her lungs and her throat.
“Her mate isn’t here to kick your ass for drinking from her if that’s what you’re worried about,” Kel put in.
Like Briana, Lucan’s head turned in the dragon’s direction. His body, already cool, hardened like ice.
“Hey.” She palmed his freezing cheek, angling his face back toward her, not willing to lose him to the wraith. “You need more.”
“No.”
“Yes. I’m too weak to dig us out, but my blood will give you enough strength to pass through the wall.”
“And then what?” he challenged, and she knew he was just looking for an excuse not to drink from her.
“You’ll find a way to get me out.”
Kel grunted, but as far as she was concerned the dragon was on his own.
Lucan didn’t look convinced so she added, “You promised Tristan you’d keep me safe, right?”
His eyes narrowed, then widened, taking her in. “You’re naked.”
“Usually happens to all of us once or twice a day.”
“Put this on.” Gritting his teeth, he struggled to work his shirt over his head. “A little help,” he prompted when he only got it halfway off before collapsing against the ground, winded.
“Stubborn ass,” she muttered, skimming her fingers over his shoulders and along his arms until she had the shirt in her hands. She fingered the hole where the spear had pierced him. “Kind of pointless.”
Lucan gritted his teeth. “On. Now.”
Smiling at the commanding tone, she dragged it on. “The blood is already helping, isn’t it?”
He didn’t answer, his silence admitting enough.
“Here,” she looped her arms around him, helping him up and resting him against a nearby chunk of the column that could have crushed either of them when this part of the chamber had collapsed.
Arms burning from the strain, her eyes slid shut, and she allowed herself to lean into him. Just for a moment, she promised herself, and then she could pretend she didn’t want to stay right there.
His arm slid around her back. “You need your strength, kitten.”
The nickname had her grinning despite their situation, and she lifted her head. A lopsided smile she hadn’t seen in a long time lifted the corner of his mouth.
“Sometime this millennia would be good,” Kel growled.
Conscious of the dragon’s bored gaze, Briana straightened and held out her hand.
Lucan nodded to her neck. “It would be faster that way.”
“Okay.” By some miracle her voice didn’t betray the flutter of nerves in her belly as she slid closer. She bumped up against him, and he groaned. “Sorry.” Careful of his injuries, she started to move back.
His hand clamped down on her wrist. “Stay.” Eyes reflecting the faint flicker of Kel’s fire, he brushed her hair back from her face, exposing her throat. “You’re sure about this?”
Kel sighed. “Just to be clear, I’m not volunteering if she backs out.”
Neither of them paid him any attention.
“Will it hurt?” she whispered, though she was fairly certain she knew the answer. The redhead in the parking lot certainly hadn’t complained, and Briana had been ready to tear her apart for even that much
.
His thumb slowly circled beneath her jaw. “Never.”
Lucan curled his fingers around her nape, gentle and coaxing and making her forget where they were and why she’d been nervous. Nothing about this was like that night in the forest. Not her, and certainly not the former knight fighting something so much darker than animal instinct.
And yet she trusted him. Completely. Maybe more now than back then.
His breath licked along her skin, triggering a shiver she couldn’t tamp down. Everything came to a standstill, neither of them moving, though every cell in her body felt him. There would be no undoing this, no going back.
Tipping forward a fraction brought her in full contact with his mouth. The grip on her nape tightened, but instead of panicking, all of the tension holding her stiff against him evaporated, and she melted into him.
What started out as a necessity had become absolutely essential, a gift she felt compelled to offer, to demand he accept.
And then he did.
The pressure of his lips, the lazy slide of his tongue, masked the piercing of his fangs as he bit down.
Breath held, all the anger, uncertainty and fear she’d been drowning in for days collided with a hot wall of devastating pleasure that crashed over her.
Sweet Avalon. More.
Briana slid her hands into his hair, tugging just hard enough to match each silken pull of his mouth at her neck. Not even in her wildest fantasies had she believed this would feel so right, his arms around her, his face tucked against her throat.
Liquid heat tunneled through her veins, leaving her trembling, her body caught on the edge of sheer want. In the back of her mind she kept waiting for the venom in his fangs to overrun her system and leave her bonelessly compliant.
That’s how it was supposed to work, wasn’t it? She wasn’t supposed to crave his hands on her, wasn’t supposed to imagine his mouth sliding so much lower. Her thighs contracted as though his tongue had parted the slick folds, and she squirmed in place, thinking long and hard about crawling into his lap.
“Lucan,” she hissed, torn between begging him to end this and demanding he never, ever stop.
All of it was too much. Too intimate. Too vulnerable. Too terrifying.
Primal Temptation Page 19
