by Skye, Sariah
“Shit. Percival—please don’t let them do this! Please!” My father pleaded, as they maneuvered him into wooden gallows, shoving his head into an opening in the wood, along with his hands; my father swore and kicked and fought the entire time.
“I’m sorry, old friend. It is out of my hands.” The second knight—Percival—replied with regret in his voice.
Feeling the tears burn in my eyes as locks were fastened and my father knelt in the last place he would ever kneel and take his last breath.
I glowered as Arthur—that fucking bastard—and his stupid shadow fae mate stepped forward, arms linked. Arthur with his pinched features and snide, snakelike expression looked upon Lachlan with… bemusement. He carried a scroll of parchment, that he handed off to the first knight with the expressionless face. “Sir Bedivere, please read the charges upon Lancelot to the kingdom.”
“Of course.” Sir Bedivere stood proud and tall, unfurling the scroll in his hands. “Lancelot du Lac, you are hearby and forthwith charged of heresy and treason to the kingdom and crown of Camelot. How do you plead?”
My father sneered, spitting at his feet. “Fucking guilty and proud of it, you swine. The lot of you.”
Arthur tittered in amusement, so did Nimue—Nadina—whatever the hell she was called. I wanted to punch the smugness right off her face, but for some reason I couldn’t move.
“So feisty until the end.” Arthur clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Bedivere?”
“The punishment of these crimes is by execution.”
“I suppose you’re going to be the one to do it, eh, Bedivere? Traitor,” my father growled at his once-friend.
“It is you that is the traitor, Lancelot. Not I. You and your bastard daughter.”
My father glowered. “Do not ever speak those words about my daughter again or I will find you from whatever seven hells await me and haunt you until you go mad.”
Bedivere said nothing, still expressionless. Someone nearby, wearing all black with a hood over his face came forward: I didn’t even see him before. He carried a long, tall menacing scythe. I screamed in horror as Arthur spoke next.
“Do it.” Was his only command.
“No! No!” I screamed over and over again, motionless.
The tears streamed openly now as the hooded executioner lifted his scythe and poised to strike. The scythe came down, all I saw was a golden flash that blinded me, blinded my father—blinded everything.
“Ava, I have told you time and time again. These outcomes… these nightmares you are having are not going to come true as long as you and I are together.” The mysterious, indiscernible silhouette emerged from the bright light, grinning a disconcerting smile—disconcerting because of how familiar it was…and yet wasn’t.
The silhouette waved a hand, and the awful scene that was behind us faded with the dimming of the golden light; instead replaced with an empty, green field. A large castle lay in the distance; I’d not seen it before but all of a sudden, it was entirely familiar.
“Camelot…” I uttered in awe, and the silhouette nodded slowly.
“It is a beautiful kingdom. What Arthur has done—what Nimue has done—is inexcusable. Making the citizens live in fear. Making them hate, and fight in pointless wars. This isn’t what Camelot stands for… at least, not when I lived here. And hope to again once this is all over,” the silhouette said, mouth forming a sullen frown.
I attempted to make out the feature’s of the silhouette—the person inside the sword—but anytime I tried to form a coherent thought about it, my brain became fuzzy and confused.
The silhouette did smile though, and set a hand on my shoulder. “In time this will all make sense, and you’ll understand why you can’t divulge my identity. No one would believe you anyway,” it said, with a low laugh and I replied with a snort.
“You can say that again,” I said. The silhouette reached out a hand and I took it; it was comforting and powerful, leaving me feeling… content. It wasn’t a contentment I had for my guys; it was different somehow. But no less important. “We’ll get the kingdom back. But in the meantime can you stop coming in my head so much? It’s getting to be a little strange, and my fiancés are starting to think I’m crazy, I think. Since I can’t tell them…”
“Rest assured I’ll try to keep quiet, though I am restless. Wake now. Don’t think on these terrible outcomes any more. Between you and I, your protectors, and Merlin everything will be fine. We will succeed, I promise.”
The silhouette faded into oblivion and I was left in the darkness… alone, but… not.
“Ava?”
I sat up suddenly, feeling a shaking sensation as I screamed bloody murder into the dark.
“Ava?” The voice said more insistently this time.
“Fuck, man. Is she okay?” A second voice asked.
Breathing heavily, I blinked repeatedly, the scene of my father’s execution fading from my vision and was replaced with the extremely concerned expressions of two incredibly handsome incubi. I opened my mouth to speak but found words escaped me; I just squeaked.
“It’s okay, dearest one.” Xander’s deep, baritone voice soothed. I felt his gentle touch on the side of my arm. “Shit—Bash, get her something to wear. She’s shaking.”
“Right.” I felt the bed shift, as Bash must have moved to do as Xander asked. In the meantime, Xander pulled the blanket up to my chin, tucking it over my shoulders, and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me securely against him.
“What happened, Ava? What did you dream of?” He asked quietly, in that comforting way that only Xander could.
“I…” I stammered, my voice little more than a whisper; it was caught, strangled in my throat at the foggy vision of my father in a stockade, followed by the vision of the person in the Excalibur invaded my brain. No matter how I wanted to talk about it, I couldn’t though; the urge to do so was overwhelming. I hated keeping this from them. If they knew—they would probably feel better about everything. But I couldn’t tell.
So I shook instead, conflicted with the desire to divulge and the fact I couldn’t.
Xander muttered distressed Chinese under his breath as he smoothed a hand through my hair, down my back in languid, soothing motions.
“Here, babe. Put these on. You’ll feel better.” Bash’s handsome face and blue eyes that shone even in the moonlight through the window reappeared, and he set a soft t-shirt and cotton boxers in my lap. I noticed that he wore a tank top and boxers of his own; they were light colored but hard to tell in the dim light. Probably gray.
These were the thoughts I focused on after my dream and the agony of my secret I couldn’t divulge. The things that were real, and true. The steely-blue of Bash’s eyes. The gray tank that probably actually belonged to Xander, because it was tighter over his chest, and Xander was slightly more lean. None of that mattered anymore, every part of our lives had become so intermingled, it’s almost like we were all one.
And that was comforting.
“Ava?” Bash placed a gentle hand on my thigh, and I smiled at him.
“Sorry. I’m…I’ll be okay.” Exhaling out some of the tension leftover from the dream, I pulled the t-shirt over my head, grinning lightly to myself; it smelled of a musky, ancient Earth which probably made it Mathias’. As I pulled on the boxers—which probably belonged to Bash—my bedroom door was flung open, and in a blur, Mathias was at the side of my bed.
“Stars above, Ava—are you okay?” Xander, who still had an arm over my shoulders, moved aside some for Mathias to sit nearby, kicking his long legs over the bed. He wore nothing more than a pair of black boxer briefs, and his dark brown hair was mussed from sleep. But his intense brown eyes were lit with fear, and his chiseled jaw was clenched as he reached for my hand, clutching it firmly in his.
“I am now,” I replied with quiet earnest, gazing up into his handsome face.
“Och, shite. What’s going on? I heard screaming and I came running—what’s going on?” Trystan emerge
d, raking his hands through his unkempt, auburn hair as he came, and sat at the foot of my bed, exchanging looks with the other guys.
“Bad dream,” Xander replied, and the other guys frowned sympathetically.
“Shite.” Trystan scratched at his temple. “Are ye all right, luv?”
“Now that you’re all here, I feel much better,” I replied. “It’s just… weird dreams…”
“What sort of dreams? About the war? Your dad?” Mathias asked, and Bash nodded.
“I heard you call his name, over and over before you screamed. Then you got quiet but you still seemed pretty distressed.” He tipped his head, leaning against my shoulder and sliding a hand over my stomach.
“I’m just… so scared of losing. Losing my dad, losing you…” I said, my voice trembling lightly as I looked in turn into each of their respective eyes. My guys… and mine alone. It wasn’t a lie, it was something I was thinking of and wondering about often, and it was the only thing about my “dream” that I could express.
“Ava, I’ve told you. We’re going to be fine. With you and the sword, and us, and Rhys… well we’re just not going anywhere,” Mathias persisted. He moved forward, not caring that anyone was here, and brushed his lips over mine in a sweet kiss that made the strings of my heart tighten and pull.
“Aye. Fuck, just Mathias alone can take on what—probably about a hundred of Arthur’s bastard soldiers. Just wait,” Trystan said, with a wide smile, and Mathias smirked in turn.
“Well. Maybe,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “On a bad day.”
I chuckled and laughed in reply.
“You should probably try to get some sleep,” Xander said.
Trystan agreed with a nod. “Well… if ye’re all right…”
Neither Bash or Xander made any move on the sides of me to move, but Mathias and Trystan stood and took steps back.
“Don’t go,” I said, my lower lip quivering.
“Aye, lassie. We won’t go anywhere. However… I’m not sure I can fit in here with all you daft bastards,” Trystan said, glancing uncomfortably at the bed.
“Stars above, Trystan, what do you think is going to happen?” Mathias said, with a snort. “You think that because you sleep next to a guy you’re going to turn gay?”
“If that was the case it would have happened for me years ago,” Xander said, rolling his eyes, and Bash looked momentarily horrified. “Stop it, you. Knock it off. It’s for Ava.” I fluttered my lashes at the eagle-shifter innocently.
“Och, shite…” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “How the hell is this going to work?”
It took some maneuvering, some scowling, a little fighting and grumbling but we finally got into a comfortable position, all of us. Just like the night after we summoned Avalon, I lay in between Mathias’ legs, resting my upper body on his stomach and chest. Xander and Bash sidled up next to me on my sides, each one draping an arm over my waist or upper body, and Trystan grabbed a spare blanket at the end of the bed, pulled it over him, and curled up around my feet, his head resting on my stomach. It was a bit awkward all around, but once everyone relaxed it actually felt quite nice—I think even for them too—and I was pretty sure I was first to drift back off to sleep, feeling safe, and secure with all my guys around me. And for once, the arousal I always seemed to feel was kept at bay, trumped by the fact I’d just had a horrific nightmare. But…I was feeling all right now, because I knew without a doubt, the guys would never let anything happen to me.
And, as much as I couldn’t admit it out loud, Excalibur wouldn’t either.
Chapter Fourteen
I didn’t know what time it was when I finally stirred, but the bright September sunlight streamed in through my sheer purple curtains on the windows behind us. At some point I had turned on my side somewhat and faced Xander, whose face was partially buried in Mathias’ side, but mostly in my chest. I snickered; that figured. Glancing back over my shoulder, Bash was pressed up against my back, and at some point he’d stuck his hand half down his boxers that I was wearing, his thumb crooked at the waist to hold it there. His face was buried in my hair, and he breathed evenly.
Mathias was still knocked completely out; one of his arms drooped beside him, the other draped over my shoulder. The only other one awake was—
“Mornin’, lassie,” Trystan greeted in a husky voice. “Och, I canna believe I slept like this.” He eyed the other guys in various sleeping positions precariously.
I rolled my eyes. “Seriously? It’s not 1650 or whenever you’re from. You can touch a guy. No one cares.”
“I ken, really.”
“You what?”
“I know, I mean. Just… old habits, apparently.” He slowly peeled himself off my stomach and legs, lifting his arms high over his head in a stretch. “I guess I’m going to have to get used to it, eh?”
I shrugged. “This is nice, I won’t lie.” Nice? It was a damned dream come true! “It’s not like I’m asking you to fuck each other.”
“That will never happen, lassie,” he said, wiggling a finger at me. I puffed out my lower lip in a protest. “I might watch, though,” he said, with a playful wink, and I felt my nerves between my legs pulse and charge at the idea.
“Really?”
“Someday,” he said with a chuckle. “You have to remember; same-sex stuff was pretty taboo in my day, luv. I don’t begrudge anyone from being in their relationships with whoever, but for me it’s just a bit…”
“No one is asking you to bottom out for anyone, Trys,” I replied, rolling my eyes. He briefly looked horrified.
“What the hell does that mean?” He asked.
I crooked a finger, urging him nearer and whispered into his ear, watching his eyes widen.
“Och…”
“Oh stop. Bash and Xander barely even touched each other when we—” I clamped my hand over my mouth, realizing I’d just spilled some very personal beans. Trystan immediately looked smug, and I gently kicked him with my foot. “Look, I love spending time with you all individually, but it does get a bit…”
“…hard?” He supplied, with a lascivious leer.
I snorted. “Yeah. Hard is a good word for it.”
“I get it, lassie.” He gently patted the top of my leg. “I’ll just need a bit of time to get used to it all, that’s all.”
“Fair enough,” I replied.
From underneath me, I felt Mathias begin to stir. “Stars above, what time is it?” I turned and glanced over at him over my shoulder. His hair was all messy in back, and his face sleepy until he suddenly frowned.
“By the gods—Sebastian, you asshole! You drooled on me!” With a shove, Mathias pushed Bash off of his shoulder, and he jumped, surprised.
“What the fuck, man?” He demanded.
“You. Drooled. On. Me.” Mathias glowered, pointing at a giant wet spot on his shirt.
Snickering, I covered my mouth with my hand to avoid laughing louder and waking up Xander.
Bash glanced over at Mathias’ shoulder, and turned beet red. “Um, whoops. Sorry?” He offered.
Mathias’ full, pouty lips were curled in a disgusted sneer, until Bash tried to unceremoniously brush the offending drool off his shoulder. Mathias pulled away, essentially elbowing Xander in the forehead.
“Ouch! What the hell?” Xander immediately sat up, rubbing his forehead.
“Lassie, I’m not sure this dog pile of yers is such a good idea,” Trystan said, as he started to rumble with laughter. Mathias followed and even though Bash still looked embarrassed he tittered with laughter too.
“Hey, drooling is better than waking up with someone’s morning wood on your asscheek,” I pointed out, and Mathias appeared briefly appalled.
“I thought you liked that?” Xander protested, pretending to pout.
Rolling my eyes, I swatted him lightly in the leg, giving him a playful grin. “Okay, it’s not so bad…” He grinned triumphantly.
“Speaking of…” Bash began sliding backward to the
edge of the bed, looking guilty, pointedly covering the vicinity of his crotch with his hands. I burst out laughing.
“That better have not been there while you were sleeping next to me, you alchemist jackass,” Mathias warned, shaking a finger at him.
“Nah, he had his hand down my pants,” I said with nonchalance. “It had nothing to do with you.”
“Thanks, Ava. Thanks for ratting me out,” Bash said, pretending to scowl at me. I rose my hand and pretended to rub the sleep out of the corner of my eye with my middle finger.
“Bloody hell…” Trystan covered his face with his palms, and chuckled. “You all are something else.”
“Dear gods, you people are mad. Mad I tell you!” But Mathias started roaring with laughter, and after a while everyone else joined in. We tittered and chuckled for a good few minutes until my sides ached and my face hurt from smiling.
“Guys, thank you. I guess… I needed this. Just in case, you know…” I said quietly, and the mood immediately turned somber.
“Luv, we’re going to be fine. All of us. We’ll get Lachlan back and everyone will live happy ever after. Aye, guys?” Trystan said, pointedly eyeing each of the guys, who quickly agreed.
“Except Nimue and Arthur, of course,” Bash grumbled.
“Right,” Trystan agreed.
“So, you feel better now?” Xander asked, raising his arms over his head, and yawning gently. He purposely stretched out until his hand touched Mathias’ face and he pretended to smack him. “Whoops, that was an accident.”
“You’re such a dick, seriously,” Mathias said, swatting his hand away with a smile.
“You punched me in the face, dude,” Xander replied, and Mathias just shrugged.
“I do what I want. Isn’t that what he says all the time?” He said, motioning to the storm wielder.
I nodded with a chuckle.
Xander shot me a feigned, narrow-eyed glare. “Traitor.”