“You’ve a wealth of experience, this one question can’t bother you that much,” he said and something in his tone warned me were about to hit some nasty rocks.
I paused and tried to see behind the question’s intent, which seemed to be aimed to hurt me. I saw anger bubbling away and growing in the dark eyes, which watched me as if I were some curio from a marketplace. I also saw a measure of fear but that didn’t surprise me – we were heading out into uncharted territory. What I didn’t anticipate was the source of the anger – an unhealthy dose of self-loathing. Galahad loved me, I felt it in his touch, but right now our intimacy broke something in him and that manifested as self-loathing.
I moved slowly, his predatory instincts obvious. His father might be the Black Wolf, but Galahad felt like a huge and very angry great cat. I’d seen what they could do to man when I’d lived in the desert. I didn’t want him shredding me in the same way.
“I think I should leave,” I said quietly. “You aren’t ready. I’m not certain you ever will be.” The pain in my guts from those words made me want to puke. I felt torn, ripped deeply to the core. I’d lost Torvec, however unreal it might have been, and now I knew I had to leave Galahad.
I moved carefully to the edge of the bed and picked up my shirt and boots. He watched me the whole time, still and waiting. I slid around him, reaching for my sword belt, when his hand lashed out to grab my arm.
“No!” he commanded. He pushed against the nerves in my forearm, making me wince and forcing me back.
“Let me go, boy,” I snapped. Enough with this game, if we weren’t going to make love, then I wanted to feel fresh air on my face, not his musk.
“You will leave when I tell you,” he said as he rose, folded his arm and used his elbow in my guts. It didn’t hurt exactly but he did knock some wind out of me and force me back into the bed.
“Let me go, Galahad, or I will make you,” I growled, now equally as angry.
“Try,” he goaded.
I surged off the bed, catching him by surprise and forcing him against the bulkhead. He banged his head on the wood and I jammed my forearm against his throat. “Just because I like fucking men doesn’t mean you can hurt me, screw with me, or hit me.”
“I haven’t hit you... yet,” he growled. He breathed heavily and his eyes were dilated, black holes into his distressed and raging soul.
“Then what the fuck are you playing at?” The heat of his body burned against me, the ties on his shirt hitting my naked chest.
Instead of answering he pushed his throat against my arm, which must have hurt, and forced his lips into mine. I yielded for a heartbeat, it proved enough. He hooked a leg behind mine and pushed his weight against me. We were matched, two large fit men fighting for dominance. I stumbled back but twisted, wrenching my mouth free and turned Galahad. He hit the bunk hard and the wood protested. I straddled him as I had in his room in the villa, but this time he did not lie still, passive under my command.
A fist ripped through the air toward my face. I deflected the blow across my chest and forced his arm down, trapping his other hand and stopping him from rising off the mattress.
“You’ll have to do better than that, Princeling,” I snarled.
He did. His hips pushed up against mine and I toppled forward, my balance never solid in the first place. I had to let go of him or crack my head on the beams of the ship. He used his momentum and weight to flatten me face down against the bed and I felt his fingers pull at my waistband.
His other arm pressed against my neck and skull. If I fought him I’d hurt myself or him. My hose slipped down my thighs and I struggled as he yanked them off my legs completely.
“You want to fuck, we’ll fuck,” he ground out and I heard a world of pain and confusion. I realised he was close to tears. He hurt and I didn’t understand why, I truly didn’t. I wasn’t making him do this to me. In fact I was the victim. If I didn’t want him so much I’d be fighting for my bloody virtue. This was as close to rape as I’d ever been.
He forced my hips up and my knees apart. I don’t think he even realised he’d released my neck. I braced for what would be a painful experience. I didn’t have enough practice at being bottom for this to be easy for either of us.
“No,” I whispered. “Galahad, stop.”
A guttural cry of pain from behind me hurt more than the thought of being raped by someone I loved. I twisted awkwardly and reached for my young friend. He threw himself into my arms and buried his head in my shoulder. Huge racking sobs escaped him and for the second time I held Galahad du Lac as he collapsed.
Somehow, while he clutched at me and cried, I managed to lie us flat on the bed so we were comfortable. I kissed his hair, stroked his back and held him, and murmured soft words of comfort and love.
It took a long time but eventually he mumbled a soft, “I’m sorry.”
“Shhh, it’s over now. No harm done, love. No harm done.”
“I hurt you,” he said.
I smiled to myself. “A few bruises perhaps but mostly just my pride.”
“You could have killed me for that,” he hiccupped.
“And you could have killed me. But that didn’t happen. Just some rough play, that’s all.” I kissed his head again but he moved and my second kiss hit his lips. The third kiss came from him and its slow, gentle probing made me groan. His hand played over my chest, down my stomach and thigh. He avoided my groin, which didn’t surprise me.
When he let me up for air I pushed black hair behind his ear and stroked his face. “You need to sleep, Galahad.”
“Why do I feel so angry?” he asked me in a small voice.
I felt tears fill my eyes and I fought to control my empathy. “Maybe because you are being pulled in too many directions. You have never been allowed to find out who Galahad du Lac actually is. Perhaps you need time to work that out before we go any further than this.” I spoke gently and with pauses to give him a chance to really hear the words and my loving intent behind them.
“Will you hold me while I sleep?” he asked, once more in the voice his parents would have heard before The Lady stole him from their arms and filled his head with lies.
I kissed his unlined brow. “Of course I will hold you.”
He moved enough to take off his hose but left his shirt in place. He lay down in front of me on his side and I curled around his back, hoping my cock wouldn’t prove difficult to manage. Reaching behind him, he pulled my arm over his ribs and held it tight to his chest. I felt him take one deep breath, relax and he vanished into sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
It took a long time for me to sleep. My balls were tight and they ached but eventually I drifted off to the rocking of the boat and my companion’s gentle snuffling snores.
I woke at some point, as Galahad murmured something and twitched against me. Then he cried out in a long low moan, a sound of fear and pain. I hushed him, kissed him, held him tighter to me and promised never to let him go. He mumbled something, sighed and slept on. I fell back into my own sleep.
When I woke I knew the sun would be rising. I needed to pee but my erection would make that difficult. I didn’t want to disturb Galahad or frighten him with it, so I moved slowly and carefully out of the bed. He just rolled onto his back and continued to sleep. Grey light filtered in through a small porthole and showed me a face of exquisite beauty. I gazed on a god made incarnate.
I sighed. It was time I thought about the consequences of the last few days rather than just reacting from the heart. I’d not stopped to consider the implications of my actions, just rolled with whatever situation I crashed into, and it had to stop. More than my lust was involved, the fate of nations rested on my shoulders and Galahad’s entire life.
I thought about Torvec, trying to take events in order. The letter he’d left had made his duplicity obvious. He’d been spying on us and tracking us. How The Lady knew he’d be able to seduce me proved something of a worry, but I’m not a fussy man when thinking
about a one night stand. At least I now understood why he’d been so angry when I made it obvious he wouldn’t be coming with us. If I’d just kept riding we’d all have been safe from his machinations. I tried to think about who and what he might really be – his love for me leapt off the page from his note, but what about mine? The implications made in that note suggested I’d been tricked. The sex with Torvec must have had fey magic rippling through it because I’d never, ever, experienced sex like it.
There were several types of fey that could manipulate emotions and desire. Salamander and Sidhe for a start. He wasn’t pureblood, that was certain, but what he’d done to heal me spoke of true power. I could not be healed easily. My human blood and the injuries that had mounted up over the years meant I was very vulnerable to physical attack. Torvec took the wound given to me by The Lady and healed it so not even a scar remained. It simply wasn’t possible. So what was he? The vision I saw just before I’d passed out came to mind but that must have been hallucination, it didn’t make sense. I’d seen a dragon’s face and they did not exist in Albion.
The truly worrying thing about Torvec being in my life belonged to the stuff of every leader’s nightmare. It meant my enemy had found a way to strike at me without me realising I was even under threat. The Lady had engaged with real subterfuge to attack me. I wondered what Torvec’s orders had been and how much she’d hurt him for not killing me. That had to have been her intention, just as it was with Galahad.
That led me on to our young prince. He’d been well trained to win the games forced upon the nobility of Albion to choose a new king or queen. I had no doubt he’d win, his father had after all, but we needed to shred the ties he had with The Lady. Last night’s fight demonstrated his torment – torn between his training and his instincts. Or were they his instincts? What were the odds of both boys bred from the White Hart and the Black Wolf having similar sexualities? I didn’t gamble often and I wouldn’t want those odds. So why was he lying in a bed we’d shared?
I knew I loved him but I genuinely didn’t know how he felt. His strange and difficult behaviour left me lost and confused. If I were honest, his anger scared me. Not for my safety but for the future of Albion. He didn’t know who he was and I didn’t know how to help him.
I rubbed my face with my hands and growled, taking in a deep breath of clean river air with just a hint of the sea.
“Holt! Holt!” The call shook me from my maudlin thoughts. I looked around, trying to locate the call onboard when something flapping out on the river caught my eye.
“Valla,” I whispered, utterly horrified.
A small skiff came toward The Echo carrying Valla, Nest and Kerwin. Valla stood, waving toward me with her hair trailing in the breeze.
I waved automatically while murmuring, “Fucking hell,” repeatedly and quietly under my breath. I couldn’t leave the deck to alert Galahad to their presence. I didn’t even know if I should.
The skiff came toward us and Raven joined me at the rail. “Friends of yours?” he asked.
“Shifters sent by Prince Tancred to protect Galahad. The loud one is his girlfriend,” I added.
Raven looked at me, his eyebrow piercing almost in his hairline. “Girlfriend? Oh, shit, this could be complicated.”
“Hmm,” I agreed.
“Does he know they are here?” Raven asked as the skiff pilot requested for permission to pull along side. “Aye,” Raven said to him.
“Not yet,” I said.
Raven cursed me under his breath, knowing I brought trouble to his ship, and he reached to help pull Valla over the railing. She looked ecstatic and hugged me before babbling, “Where’s Galahad?”
“Below,” I said, unable to rustle up enthusiasm for her presence. “Sleeping.”
“I’ll find him, I’ve a good nose for that man,” she said as she bounced off below decks. She didn’t even wait to be introduced to the Captain. Nest and Kerwin appeared, both more formal.
“How did you find us?” I asked.
Nest answered, “The Brownies told us what had happened and that you’d gone. We decided to lay a few false trails, so went north then turned west before doubling back to The City and coming south, losing everyone on the way. Where’s Torvec?”
“Your efforts were wasted, I’m afraid, but thank you. Torvec is with The Lady and has returned to his Mistress,” I said.
Nest cocked her head to one side and studied me. “You aren’t pleased to see us – what’s happened?”
“Nothing’s happened and I’m sorry if my welcome has been a little flat. It’s been a long few days,” I lied.
Nest scowled but didn’t challenge me.
“You arrived just in time,” Captain Raven announced to break the tension. “We are about to leave.”
“Oh good,” I murmured. Trapped on board a ship with Galahad and Valla, I couldn’t wait.
Raven shouted orders and I took my place among his crew. Those that knew me nodded thanks and we were soon a team, raising anchors, sails and setting the Echo on her course. I watched the familiar land slipping away and the river becoming choppy as the sea washed up the estuary. The air quality changed and I closed my eyes against the sharpening wind. I loved the sea, I loved being away from land and I loved the freedom. I felt eyes on me and turned. Raven smiled, clearly reading my sense of peace.
I stayed above deck and eventually the girls appeared to stand either side of me, watching their home vanish over the horizon. Morgan remained separate from me but Nim snuggled under my arm. I hugged her close. She finally said, “We met Valla.”
“She and the others are not necessary, we don’t need them with us,” Morgan said. “We are safe with you, Galahad and Lance. We don’t need them. Have Raven put in at the next port and we can ask them to go home.” She grabbed my hand in silent solidarity.
I continued to stare out to the distant blue horizon. “He needs to make his own decisions. She makes him happy.”
“You make him happier,” Nim said hotly.
I smiled; an ache had started in my chest, stomach and throat. “No. No, I don’t think I do. He needs normal and I’m not normal.”
“You are going to condemn him to a life of mediocrity?” Morgan asked.
“There is nothing mediocre about Valla,” I said.
“No, because being with your mother made Arthur so happy,” she muttered, angry for me.
“That’s not fair, Morgan,” I said. “He is not Lancelot and I am not my father, no matter how I might wish it differently.”
“So you aren’t going to fight for him?” she challenged.
“There is nothing to fight for, little sister,” I said and kissed her brow. “Go and find Lance, we need to discuss our plans further now the wolves are with us.”
Morgan glared at me but did as I asked. Nim, her eyes so like mine, looked up at me. “You don’t think he really loves you, do you?” she asked.
I rolled up my shirt sleeves and showed her some of the bruises which had begun to appear from our fight. She stroked them with her fingertips.
“He’s a very unhappy man and I’m not going to add to his misery,” I said quietly.
She stared up at me, her eyes gentle with pity, and nodded. “I’ll talk to Morgan, make her understand.”
I hugged Nim and kissed her bright blonde hair. “Thank you, sister,” I said. Her arms tightened in recognition of the honesty of the relationship and she slipped from my grasp to try to control her other sibling. I remained on deck following orders and losing myself in hard work. At noon I shared the same rations as the other sailors and continued to work with them in the rigging, making the most out of the wind, which pushed us south west, a long way from land. The afternoon wore on and I began to feel the ache of unaccustomed exercise in my warrior’s arms. I’d long since divested myself of boots and shirt, scurrying through the rigging and over the deck on bare feet. I’d started to help the cabin boy – Raven’s latest pretty young thing – polish the brass-work near the stairs to
the galley when a sharp intake of breath caused me to turn.
Galahad stood with Valla holding his arm. She smiled prettily. Even I could smell the sex on them, never mind her wolf’s nose.
“You’re a Lord of Albion, this isn’t seemly,” he said stiffly. His eyes were focused on my chest, not my face.
“It was a job that needed doing and I’d rather be busy under the circumstances,” I said, coolly.
Rex, the cabin boy, caught a tone in my voice and he scurried away.
Galahad and I stared at each other and I desperately tried to hide the pain arcing through my body from the knowledge of their lovemaking. “At least wear a shirt,” he said. “You have a position of authority among these people.”
“What I do with my body is my business, what you do with yours is not my business. I think we should leave it at that,” I said. The words were strained and Valla frowned, clearly confused by the subtext she couldn’t interpret.
Galahad’s eyes darkened with a flash of stricken pain before he bowed his head and led Valla out of the hatch and onto the deck. I licked my lips and bent my back to my duties, the shining metal blurring as I rubbed at it until it shone more brightly than the sun.
A large rough hand closed over mine. “He’s not worthy of you, Holt,” Raven said. I glanced up at our Captain. “You’ve done enough for one day. Go below and clean up, then join me in my cabin. We’ve some drinking to do before we pass out. You’ll stay with me, Lance can bunk with the hands.”
“If we do that I’ll end up making a mistake,” I said. “Thank you, but I’d rather sleep on deck.”
“So it’s love?” he asked.
“The worst kind. The kind that never knows joy,” I whispered.
“Then I’ll leave you to your work but my offer stands. I’ll even lend you Rex if it makes you feel better,” he said, grinning and flashing that gold tooth.
I chuckled. “He’s a very nice boy but not my type,” I claimed.
The Pendragon Legacy: Sons Of Camelot Book One Page 14