White Knight

by Nicole Flockton

  As soon as the last foot cleared the floor, Derek jumped. He absorbed the impact of his landing by rolling first, then slammed his fist into the floor, releasing the energy pent up inside him.

  Just as with the men in the hallway above, every man touching the floor went down. The collective screams of pain were sickening, the stench of burning flesh and hair nauseating. But Derek didn’t let up until they stopped.

  Shaking out his hand, he stood and watched proudly as his men swiftly and efficiently dispatched the few remaining assailants who’d followed them off the floor.

  Breathing harshly in his throat, he double-checked they’d taken out every last goon. But before he could check more than one or two, every single body disappeared.

  That fucking sorceress. At least she’d saved them a lot of clean up.

  Derek turned to the man closest to him. “Gareth, check that Waine and Sasha are safe.”

  The knight nodded and rushed up the stairs.

  “Tristain, Haden, check the grounds for more men.” The two ran out the doorway into the inky night beyond.

  Bone weary and needing to check on Sasha, Derek forced himself to remain with his men until, other than Waine, all were gathered downstairs.

  “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for watching over her. For defending her.”

  All six men exchanged a glance.

  “We may have won this battle, Derek, but I still don’t believe you are my friend, the noble warrior I fought alongside,” said Lance. “You may fight like him, but your power is different. He wielded an invisible force. And the state Sasha is now in suggests you can’t be trusted around her. I suggest you leave. Now.”

  “Even after what happened in there?” He flung his good arm toward the foyer. “I knew about Lyonesse. How do you explain that?”

  Haden stepped forward. “Morgan knew about that, too. If you’re an agent of hers, sent to infiltrate our ranks, she would’ve told you things like that.”

  Derek ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Shit. There might be only one way they’d ever believe him. Excalibur had always been his proof. They would believe that. But . . .

  “What about Sasha?” He couldn’t bear the thought of walking away from her especially with her life hanging in limbo.

  “She is ours to protect,” Tristain said.

  With blood dripping down his face from the cut on his forehead, his left arm hanging limply against his side, Derek observed the steely determination in Lance’s eyes, reflected in the gaze of every other man there. It would take more than his words to prove who he was. Walking away from Sasha cut deeply, but for the time being, leaving her was for the best. He would find a way to come back to her.

  Sasha would be his; he would make sure of it—if she lived.

  “Fine. I’ll leave. But I’ll be back. And with proof.” With that parting shot, he trod over the rubble created by the earlier explosions and out into the night.

  • • •

  The large mansion stood still and silent. No evidence of the battle that had taken place on this very property ten days ago marred the features of the majestic building. The large iron doors had been replaced, no doubt magically charmed like the previous ones had been. Where had his knights found magic with Merlin dead?

  He had one last thing he needed to do before he left on his trip to prove to his knights he was their king.

  Derek rubbed the healing scar on his forehead, his heart pulling him toward the room where the woman he loved lay unconscious. With the stealthy movements of someone familiar with infiltrating a compound, he made his way to the back of the house, where he knew Sasha still lay in her room on the third floor.

  He’d set up perimeter cameras in anticipation for when they took Sasha from the house. Every day he expected to see movement, to see them take her to a place where Morgan wouldn’t be able to find her. But apart from the activity of repairing the damage, not one of the dwarves had left the house. And they never brought Sasha out.

  He disarmed the alarm on a downstairs back window. He blew out a breath when the heavy metal barrier didn’t drop down when he opened it. He ignored the pain from the bullet wound that he had sustained in the fight as he climbed inside. It appeared only the front doors had been magically charmed.

  Keeping to the shadows, he crept up the stairs to the room where he and Sasha had made love—the room where his true identity had been revealed to him, the room where somehow, someway, he’d killed his soul mate.

  No.

  He still refused to believe she was dead. But he needed to see her again before he left. Needed to touch her.

  Needed to kiss her.

  He gripped the door handle, surprised one of his men hadn’t been standing guard. The longer he stood there procrastinating, the more chance he had of being discovered and, once again, kicked out.

  Carefully, he turned the handle and pushed open the door. Soft light permeated the room from a single bedside lamp, casting a warm golden glow over where Sasha lay on the bed. Her eyes remained closed. She looked as beautiful as she had the first night he’d laid eyes on her in the bar.

  Color remained in her cheeks. The scent of wildflowers permeated the air. She couldn’t be dead.

  It took everything in him not to rush over there and scoop her up in his arms. With slow, measured steps he made his way to the bed, his heart leaping in his throat as he reached the side and gazed down into Sasha’s stunning face.

  “Hey, princess, it’s me, Derek,” he whispered. “Your love. Your knight. Yours . . . ” His voice broke over the words, and he reached out a finger to touch her cheek. The flesh felt warm beneath his touch. How could that be? A dead body was cold. Was that the reason they hadn’t removed her from this room? Had Waine worked some healing magic over her?

  Derek sat on the bed, making sure he didn’t disturb her. “I suppose I should tell you who I really am. You’re probably not going to believe me, but I’m your warrior. The one you loved and lost. Your King Arthur. Somehow I’m living my life over and over. An unending cycle. The memories came back to me the night we made love in this very room.”

  He took a deep breath. “So many lifetimes I’ve repeated again and again, and in those lives, you were there, my princess. My true queen. Always in the periphery. Just out of touch. What would’ve happened had we connected one of those times? You would’ve outlived me, no doubt. Why we connected now is beyond me, but I know our story doesn’t end like this. I won’t let it. We will live our lives together.”

  Tears stung the back of his eyes. He would cry a million tears if it could somehow bring her back. How had he not known, in the days when he was king, that she was his? Not Guinevere, but his Snow White. His childhood friend, the one person who he’d always turned to.

  “I have to go away. I need to retrieve Excalibur to prove to the men who swore fealty to you that I am whom I claim to be. Stay strong, princess. Stay strong for me.”

  Leaning down, he hovered mere millimeters from her lips. “I love you, Snow White.”

  Derek gently possessed her lips, so soft and warm beneath his. Reluctantly, he stopped and ran a hand down her cheek. “This isn’t good-bye.”

  He gave her another kiss before he pulled away; he was leaving a piece of himself behind with her.

  He walked to the door but stopped with his hand on the knob, his body refusing to obey his commands, listening instead to his heart, which didn’t want to leave. But the sooner he left, the sooner he could come back and claim his future.

  No, not his. Theirs.

  Chapter 18

  An electric sensation skittered through her body, awakening her nerves with excruciating tingles, as if her entire being had lost circulation and now the blood was flowing again, coming back to painful life.

  Slowly, Sasha forced her eyes to open. After nearly two weeks with them sealed shut, the act took more effort than she expected. Two weeks where she heard everything about her but couldn’t respond to any of it.

  Unti
l now.

  The brightness of the room blinded her briefly, until, gradually, she adjusted to the lamplight.

  Derek stood at the door with his back to her, and she drank in the sight of broad shoulders stretching the material of his black, long-sleeved t-shirt, trim hips and firm ass encased in dark jeans.

  But a weariness settled over him—and sorrow. Did he not know?

  “Derek.” The words barely whispered between stiff lips, her throat dry and parched after so many days without use.

  He didn’t turn.

  Sasha swallowed and wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Derek.”

  He heard her rasp this time and swung sharply away from the door. She gasped at the raw devastation in his eyes, the lines bracketing his mouth.

  “Sasha?”

  “Hi.” She smiled and raised her hand slightly. Her muscles remained weak from lack of use.

  He shot across the room to gather her in his arms. “You’re alive? How is this possible?”

  Sasha pressed her cheek against his chest, reveling in his heat, the erratic drumming of his heart. “Why? Did you miss me?” She meant the words to be sassy, but given her long slumber, they came out more mumbled.

  He pulled back and cupped her face, his gaze devouring her. “Miss you? I love you with all my heart. Without you I am nothing. I’m sorry, my love.”

  The shot of adrenaline blew away the cobwebs in her mind, wakening her body and soul in a crazy instant. Could a heart explode from sheer happiness? She could combust right here and now.

  Suddenly, Derek drew back, a worried frown furrowing his brow. “Sasha. I have to tell you something . . . ” He swiped a hand down his face. “God, I did this to you. I put you through this.”

  Damn, it was true.

  She struggled to sit up, holding up her hand to prevent Derek from touching her. “Why? Why did you do it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t know? How can you not remember all but killing me? And why you did it.”

  He lifted himself off the bed and began pacing. “It’s a blur. I remember making love to you. It unlocked all the memories of my lives. I remembered who I was. Then I went to the bathroom and, after that, nothing. It’s all a blank. Something happened to me when I was in that room, but it’s like my memory was wiped with magic.”

  “Magic?”

  “Yes, I have no proof, only my military instinct, but I fear my sister did this to me—again.”

  That bitch had a lot to answer for.

  Derek stopped in front of her, arms wide, pleading with his eyes to believe him. “She cursed me and my Knights, it makes sense she could try to prevent us from being together now that we’d found each other again. Forgive me for not being stronger. For not being able to resist her influence.”

  Sasha tried to process everything. After being knocked out for so long, her synapses were taking a while to fire to life. But something he said stood out to her. Something more startling than the revelation Morgan’s hand had caused her recent long sleep. He’d unlocked his lives. “What exactly do you mean you unlocked your lives?”

  He turned to face her; two lines appeared between his brows. She knew that frown. Had, on many occasions, wanted to reach out and smooth the tiny imperfections away.

  “I am King Arthur Pendragon. The men who have been guarding you the last two weeks are my Knights.”

  “No.” She shook her head. It couldn’t be true. Although . . . “No. How? You died? It’s impossible.”

  “Just like it’s impossible you’ve been alive for the last millennia and half,” he scoffed. “The only difference is, I live my life over and over. And in all those lives, you’ve been there, Sasha. In one way or another, you’ve been there with me. But I failed to see you. Failed to reach out and grasp you.”

  Sasha covered her face with her hands. This was all too much. At one time she’d speculated that Derek might be her King Arthur but had shaken it off. Now it was true. Or was it? This could still be a ploy, a trick. Yet the pain in his voice was real. The despair she’d heard when he related his tale. His shame at not being able to fight his sister’s wicked spell once again. The request for forgiveness.

  There was nothing fake about it. If he’d wanted to kill her, he could’ve done it while she was prone, unable to scream for help.

  “So this is your punishment,” she whispered. “Mine is a never-ending life. Yours is to live your life over and over.”

  “Yes,” he confirmed. “The life I’m living ends when I turn the same age I was when I died.”

  “Three decades,” she murmured.

  “Yes.”

  God, she couldn’t ask the next question. She couldn’t know. But she had to. “How old are you now?”

  Derek came back and sat down on the bed next to her, his hands clasped in his lap and his head down. “Twenty-eight.”

  Twenty-eight! He was going to die in two years. No, not when we’ve just found each other. “Two years,” she repeated, her voice cracking.

  “Less really.”

  Sasha took a deep breath. “You were my love, King Arthur.”

  Derek scowled. “Were?”

  “Yes, I fell in love with someone else along the way.”

  “I see.” His shoulders slumped, and his lips firmed into a thin line.

  He took a step back. “I’ll leave you to live your life with him. But before I go, I ask again for your forgiveness. I have caused you pain and taken the life you should’ve had away from you. I will always love you, Sasha White.”

  Warmth bloomed inside of her. No way was he under Morgan’s influence. If he were, he wouldn’t have thought to walk away from her.

  “It’s you, Derek,” she said and reached out to grab his arm. “I fell in love with you . . . as you are in this lifetime. You ask for my forgiveness, you have it. You want my love, it’s yours. I will find a way to break the Immortality Stone so I can live and die with you when the time comes.”

  “No!” He shook her arm off and twisted so he could frame her face. “You can’t sacrifice your life for mine. I won’t let you. Live, and I promise I will find you again.”

  “You were about to walk away from me, Derek. You were going to sacrifice your happiness for mine; why can’t I do that for you? I’ve lived a full life, more lifetimes than I needed. I want it to end. If I have less than two years with you, then they will be the best two years of my long life because I’m with you. The man I love.”

  “Sasha,” he whispered before he laid his lips over hers in the sweetest kiss. Desire kicked through her as his tongue moved against her lips, asking entrance. She opened up to him, loving the taste of him, the fresh, piney scent of his skin, thrilling at the knowledge that she could touch him like this now. Her one true love.

  Sasha drew back, though her lips clung to his as she did so. “Perhaps the Immortality Stone got us right after all.”

  Derek grinned, and she sucked in a breath at the pure joy in his eyes. “Yes. But we can’t break it.” She went to protest but he held up his hand. “Not yet. You are my fated love. My other half and I have a question.”

  “What?”

  “For the rest of this lifetime, will you be content to live by my side, as my rightful queen, along with our knights—once I regain their loyalty—and try to destroy the evil that made us what we are? And maybe we will find a way to break the curse before my time is up. If we don’t and it’s getting close to the end of my time, if you still want to, we can break the stone then, I promise. You are my true love, Sasha.”

  Derek would keep his promise. “Okay, we’ll wait and see if we can find a way to break the curse. We are stronger together than we are apart.”

  “We are. I was wrong in my first lifetime. People tried to tell me, but I refused to see.”

  “You’re talking about your time with Guinevere?”

  Derek took her face in his hands. “Yes. I let pride be my guide. Plus, I suspect, Morgan had more to do with our
union than love. I was too blind to see my perfect match before my very eyes.” He brushed his thumb over her cheek.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and placed her lips at his ear so he’d hear her whisper. “By your side is the only place I’ve ever wanted to be.”

  He suddenly sobered, his eyes going all dark and intense on her. “My rightful queen. The way it should’ve been.”

  She shook her head “No regrets.”

  He considered her face, then gave a sharp nod. “No regrets.”

  “So . . . what next?”

  “I don’t know. Now that you’re awake, I have to reconsider my plan.”

  “What was it before?”

  “Leave you here with the Knights as protection while I go get Excalibur, then go kill Morgan Le Fay.”

  “Hmmm . . . perhaps we can adjust the logistics a bit to include a couple of knights and one pissed off queen.” She glanced down at the onyx ring still fused to her skin. “This was all I had left of my father in the world, and she ruined it.”

  “I’m sorry, my love.”

  “Morgan is wicked, and she hated the power you had. I believe she’ll do anything to keep Camelot from being realized, to keep the prophecy from coming true. The Immortality Stone recognizes fated souls. It recognized us. What if the other women of the prophecy are out there? Waiting? Or what if they’re like you, coming back over and over again? We have to find them, and we have to stop her. Together.”

  Derek pried her grip from his arm and settled her back in his arms. “You could be right. Maybe there is something written in all the legends that will help us. We will solve this together. But later.” His eyes twinkled and filled with desire.

  “Oh?” She couldn’t hide her grin. “What would you rather be doing now?”

  “Celebrating life. We reached heaven in each other’s arms. I want to go there with you again.”

  She sighed with happiness. “I thought you’d never ask.” They’d figure out a battle plan later.

  He grinned as he lowered his head. “I knew you’d be trouble the moment you walked into that bar, princess.”

  “Funny, I thought the same thing about you, sitting at the bar alone, glowering at everyone.”