Our gazes met, and his heated with pure masculine desire. “I can’t wait either. I need you to be my wife.” His hand carded through my hair and drew me closer, kissing me with a passion and depth that made my body boneless. “I love you, Alexandria.”
“I love you, Arthur Pendragon, with all of my heart and soul.” Nuzzling into his shoulder, I sighed. “No matter what happens next, I’m yours, forever.”
His body tensed for a moment but quickly relaxed and pulled me down into his embrace.
“No one can separate us now.” He kissed the top of my head. “Not even death.”
I smiled because no matter how morbid it sounded, he was right.
We’d conquered death for hundreds of lifetimes.
Now, we’d attempt to conquer life.
A life for the future.
A life for us.
TWENTY-THREE
Mordred
“The priestess needs to be dealt with.” Glowering at the group in front of me, I crossed my arms over my chest. “And swiftly. She’s causing me more issues than I foresaw.”
Lancer, Tristan, Gareth, and Morgan stared back blankly from their seats.
“Once Bors and Kay are awake, we’ll regroup and meet back here to strategize.” I caught Lancer glaring at me. “Lancer, fight all you want, but you simply are not going to break the curse by your own free will.”
He didn’t say anything, but he clenched his fists on the tabletop.
Morgan placed a hand on his arm, and I chuckled.
“You are all dismissed except for Morgan.”
The color in my aunt’s face drained, and I took pleasure in her discomfort. Once the others left the room, Tristan shut the door behind him, and I zeroed in on Morgan.
“Vivian is the reason Arthur has his knights, and she’s a bit upset knowing that I can call on them as well, isn’t she?” I leaned over the podium, grasping the sides with both hands.
She nodded. “She’s aware of what you must have done in order to bring your father’s knights back to you and on your side.” Onyx eyes narrowed. “Merlin is also well aware of the deal you’ve made with his own father, and he is none too happy about it.”
I sneered. “That cur can deal with it, for all I care. He denies what he is, a demi-god to man.”
“He’s half-demon, Mordred,” she quipped back. “There is a huge difference between God, man, and demon. You’d be smart to remember that.”
Shoving myself off the podium, I stalked around and wrapped my hand around her slender throat. Over the past few months, she’d been getting mouthy and combative, and I didn’t need that shit.
“You’d be smart to remember who holds your life, Morgan.”
She trembled in my grip but set her expression to defiant.
“Do you want to know what else I’ve gotten from my deal?”
A manicured brow quirked upward, but she stayed quiet.
“Lucian made a drop-off on behalf of his mother, Lilith.” Releasing her, I stepped back and motioned for her to follow me over to the back exit of the conference room. She complied and silently trailed me down a stark-white hall to one of my many labs.
The moment I turned on the lights, Ren shimmered to life on her platform. “Hello, Mordred, Morgan.”
“Ren.” I merely nodded to the A.I. and made my demand. “Show Morgan my new toy.”
“Certainly, sir.” The small woman brought up a translucent keypad in front of her and clicked a few buttons. “Just a moment.”
“What do you mean a new toy?” Morgan’s voice pitched with concern.
The center of the table opened, and a glass box rose into view, containing an unassuming piece of wood.
“This, my dear, is called the Mercy Seat.” I motioned for her to come closer to look. “And this will change everything.”
Her entire body tensed, and she visibly shook. “How the hell did you get this?”
“The Vatican has a few willing participants, and it wasn’t so hard for Lucian to come to an agreement on my behalf.”
Subtle satisfaction glowed in my chest at her shock and fear.
Morgan moved closer to the glass, pressing her hand against the barrier and watching the innocent piece of wood drip blood into a vile.
“You are a blasphemous man, Mordred.” She cast an almost pitiful glance my way, and rage spiked in my blood. “No good can come of this.”
“I’m not looking to do good, Morgan, I’m looking to win. To end my father and utterly destroy him.”
No one understood me.
No one ever tried.
“Why do you want to destroy Arthur?” She spoke softly, being careful not to push me. “He’s your father.”
“He never wanted me. Sure, I was a son, but I wasn’t a legitimate son, and so he treated me as such,” I spat bitterly. “He would have never allowed me to become king even though I did everything he asked of me and more!”
She hesitated for a moment, and I could see her brain working a mile a minute to try to rationalize her brother’s vile behavior.
But she surprised me.
“I’m sorry he treated you like that, Mordred. And I’m sure he is too.” Morgan moved toward me and rested a hand on my shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. “He’s a different man now, and you know that.”
While she was right, she was also very wrong.
Shrugging off her kind touch, I turned away. “It doesn’t matter now. The damage is done, and I plan to finish this my way.”
“Please allow me to say this, nephew.” Her tone turned grave. “The Mercy Seat is the basis for which our Lord and Savior stood enduring his agony. The blood you are extracting is the blood of Christ. What you plan to use it for is blasphemous and will have consequences for the entire world.” Her gaze moved to meet with Ren, and the A.I. blinked, glancing back at me. “Please understand that what you want to do can never be undone.”
My jaw worked over and over, chewing on her solemn words.
Morgan had a point, a very valid one.
But it was too late.
I was in too deep, and I would see this through to the bitter end.
“I understand, Morgan.” Turning on my heel, I prepared to leave. Elaine would be wondering where I was. “But I just don’t care.”
No one would change my mind. Morgan used to try every day since I’d made the pact with the Prince of Darkness. She hadn’t said much over the past few hundred years, but of course, she had to try.
I knew of her betrayals, and I knew her heart belonged to the side of the righteous good. I knew she’d do anything to protect Arthur. That was why she convinced me to steal a portion of his soul on my own deathbed and opened a way for me to make the pact. I thought she’d done it for revenge, but looking back, she’d done it to save her brother’s life.
I was born a bastard, and I would die a bastard.
Alone.
TWENTY-FOUR
Morgan
For a moment, I saw the flicker of the child Mordred hid behind his masculine façade. But just as soon as he showed it, he masked himself and walked away. Exhaling a sigh, I looked at Ren, whose shoulders also slumped.
“What do you think of this new development, Diana?” I asked the woman who I’d known as a human so long ago.
She took a moment to collect herself and looked up at me. “He’s going to use me as the catalyst for it all.”
Her words caught me off guard. “What do you mean?”
Diana wrung her hands, such a human reaction, as she spoke. “Mordred has explained to me the exact reason I was created.” Her lips pursed. “From the very beginning, Mordred has kept vials of Guinevere’s blood, combining them together. I’m basically the new Holy Grail, a husk that stores all of that blood and data.”
Pressing both of my hands onto the table, I leaned my weight forward. “A new Holy Grail?”
This wasn’t good.
Not at all.
Not when John knew some of this information.
She
nodded. “Yes. Right now, Guinevere’s entire line of DNA is stored in my database. It’s a strange mixture of soul magic and technology.” Diana brought up a 3D projection for me to look at. “Mordred plans to use the blood he’s taken from Alexandria and add it to the mix once he has the amount needed from the Mercy Seat.”
“So in order to begin the ritual, he needs the blood of Christ,” I mused, glowering at the wooden relic in the center of the table.
“Exactly.” Diana swiped her finger over a transparent keypad. “When Alexandria’s blood is added, though, her physical body will be trapped in a limbo state and hell can be penetrated.” An image of the woman who started this entire ordeal came to life in front of me.
“Guinevere,” I whispered. “She’s alive?”
Diana’s fingers moved quickly across her pad. “Yes, and her body and soul are being held in a state of limbo as well. I’ve just managed to locate where, and you’re not going to like it.”
With an exasperated sigh, I took a seat, running a hand through my hair. “Just tell me. If this plot thickens anymore, my brain is going to explode.”
“In the Inferno.”
At the mention of the deepest layer of Hell, my body tensed, and even my heartless chest clenched.
“No …”
Diana shrugged her shoulders. “Sadly, it’s the truth. When Mordred made the initial pact, he stole her soul away there for safekeeping.”
“But we need to find her in order to do to Alexandria what’s been done to Avalon. Without her missing pieces, she’ll die at the end of all of this—win or lose.”
“Exactly.” Diana pulled up a map labeled in strange ruin marks I wasn’t familiar with. “I think the only way we’ll be able to get into Hell is through Merlin. He’s the only one with the proper connections.”
I reared back in my seat. “You want me to tell Merlin and Avalon they have to work with the man who made a deal with Mordred to end the world as we know it?”
Anxiety swirled in my gut, and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t know if there was anything we could do.
“The Mercy Seat is our hourglass,” Diana said gently. “The moment that vial is full, Mordred will act.” She shuddered. “I don’t want to be in the middle of this, but I have no choice.”
An idea came to me. It would be farfetched and painful, but it could work.
“Diana, Galahad knows you’re being held by Mordred.”
Her blue eyes lit up with hope. “He does?”
Nodding, I continued. “He also knows you’re essentially the new Grail, and he’s the only one who can get to you.”
Relief washed over her shimmering features. “If he can get to where my body is, he can detach me from the system and save everyone.”
“But in doing so, he could kill you,” I reminded her gently.
She shook her head. “I’ve lived hundreds of years as a pawn, Morgan. I’d rather die knowing everyone else is safe and spend the last moments in Galahad’s arms.” She forced a smile. “That thought makes me so happy, I wish I could cry.”
My heart went out to the woman captured in an artificial form.
Mordred’s plans were coming together faster than we could rebuff them, and it made me extremely nervous.
But we have to try.
“I’ll relay this information to Avalon and Merlin.” Standing, I paused, giving the small holographic woman a reassuring smile. “And I’ll tell John you expect to see him.”
Diana’s face lit up. “Please do. I miss him so much.”
“I will.”
Exiting the lab, I rounded a corner and leaned against the wall, trying to catch my breath.
Everything is falling apart.
My hand reached up and rested over where my heart should reside in my chest, but it didn’t beat. I fought back the tears and the reality that I may die along with Mordred. As my vision blurred, I stormed toward my office and ran into someone hard and broad.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Mumbling my apologies, I tried to step around the looming figure, but they grabbed me by my shoulders and walked me into a janitorial closet.
“What the hell?”
Irritation crept up my spine, and I glanced up into the eyes of my aggressor.
My heart may be missing, but my stomach fluttered instead.
Tristan.
The man’s cold stare cut me down in the dim light of the closet, backing me into a corner. His face didn’t give any hint of his intentions, which made me nervous.
You would think a man who I’d rescued would be more generous toward me, but he hated me for it. I’d taken away his chances of being with his true love in death. What he didn’t know was that Mordred had ordered me to do it. I had no choice.
“What is it now, Tristan?” I kept my voice low; not wanting any passersby to hear us.
He snarled. “I knew you were playing both sides.”
My gut twisted and fear spidered to every limb. “W-what do you mean?”
Tristan took a step closer, and his strong hand wrapped around the nape of my neck. “You’re getting information from Diana and taking it back to Arthur and that mentor of yours.” His lips danced just inches from mine, torturing the unrequited love I’d come to have for him.
“You have no idea what I do with what I know, Tristan,” I growled back, narrowing my gaze on his steel-blue. “I learned my lesson in meddling from you, remember?”
He snorted. “Cut the bull, Morgan, and tell me the truth.”
If I told him the truth, he’d tell Mordred, and then my life would be over.
Arthur needed me.
Vivian depended on what I knew.
Merlin expected me to right my wrongs.
And I felt a kinship to Alexandria I’d never had for her predecessor.
They needed me.
But Tristan …
He’d always been deceived.
The only knight Mordred hadn’t needed to infect with the virus Lament due to the blackness in his soul, he could think for himself.
“Yes.” My voice quivered in uncertainty. “Yes, I tell them because I need to make this right, Tristan. You know I do.” Tears stung my eyes. “For all of us, I have to do this.”
“If I tell Mordred, he’ll kill you.” He studied my face, never letting me go. “What say you then?”
Briefly squeezing my eyes shut, I swallowed down my nightmares. “I’d do it a thousand times. Because it’s the right thing to do, and my brother needs me.”
A strange expression flickered over Tristan’s face as I gave him power over me.
His light brows furrowed, and he tilted his head. “Why are you telling me this?”
I laughed, completely at a loss. “I don’t know. But what I do know is that I’m tired, Tristan. I’m so tired of fighting.” A stray tear slid down my cheek, and he caught it with his thumb.
“So am I.” His voice slipped from cold to warm, pulling me closer to him. “I’m just glad you finally admitted who you really are, Morgan.”
Confusion swam in my mind. “What do you mean?”
An unfamiliar smile snaked across Tristan’s lips as he leaned down and pressed his mouth to mine.
He’s kissing me.
Tristan grew demanding, nipping at my lower lip and I allowed him entry. My hands wrapped around the back of his head, diving my fingers into his silky, blond hair. Every part of my body screamed for me to stop, but I couldn’t.
Mordred might hold my heart, but Tristan owned it.
No matter if I died tomorrow, this made it all worthwhile.
When he broke away, both of us panting, I dared to ask.
“Why?”
He pulled me close, against his chest. “Because you’re not the only one lying for the sake of others, Morgan.”
Finally, everything made sense.
His hatred toward me, his cold front to Mordred, and his torturous experiments as a mad doctor became clear.
He’s just like me.
“Tristan
—”
Our lips crashed again, and this time, I gave him everything.
We didn’t know how much time we had left.
So we’d make the most of every moment we could steal.
And we’d both continue to die to save those around us.
Our friends.
Our family.
Ourselves.
TWENTY-FIVE
Avalon
Nerves continued to hinder my thoughts as Merlin slipped the suit jacket over my shoulders and began to straighten the collar of my shirt. He worked in silence, ignoring the tension in the room, partly because he already knew what I was thinking.
We were running out of time. No matter how close Alexandria and I became, no matter how tightly we were bound, time still stood against us.
“Don’t focus on what you cannot control, Arthur.” Merlin spoke in a gentle voice, dusting off the back of the jacket. “Today is a day to rejoice.”
I caught his eye in the mirror’s reflection.
He’s right.
For once, I allowed myself a moment to relish victory and utter bliss.
“I know I’m right.” He chuckled, stepping back from me and surveying his work. “You look like you’re about to get married if I do say so myself.”
My heart leapt at the sentiment.
Marriage.
Alexandria and I were to be married in less than an hour, here in the chapel with just our circle of knights and staff. John agreed to officiate for us, and Alexandria nearly made Merlin speechless the other night when she asked him to give her away. Vivian and Orla stood in as the doting mother figures for my bride since she had no one.
Vivian managed to get a coded message to Morgan who sent her warmest congratulations. Yet when Vivian recounted my sister’s words, there seemed to be unrest in the priestess’s eyes. Something she wasn’t telling anyone until after Alexandria and I were wed.
Perhaps that would be for the best. I didn’t need somber news to rattle Alexandria on what should be the happiest day of her life. From a funeral to a wedding in a matter of days, it seemed illogical—impossible. But we lived outside the realms of this world’s reality, and the illogical made much more sense.
Return to Avalon: Book #4 (The Legend Series) Page 13
