by Kim Loraine
Words fail me at her outburst. She drops a tea bag in each mug and picks up her cup. Then puts it back down.
“Here. My sister sent me some clothes. They should arrive soon.” Before I realize what she’s doing, Gwen pulls the shirt over her head, baring her tantalizing breasts and perfectly curved body. My mouth runs dry and the erection I’d managed to tame comes roaring back to life.
She tosses the balled-up fabric to me and grabs her mug. “I’ll be in the shower.” Then the temptress strides past me, breasts bouncing and begging for my touch.
I have to fight a groan at the sight of her full, round arse covered only by a lacy undergarment. If I were a weaker man, I’d tear those off her with my teeth. But I’m not. I will not. Once she’s out of sight, however, I give in and palm my shaft through the fabric of my sleeping pants. I haven’t been inside a woman in close to a thousand years and Guinevere is testing me.
The air around me shifts and my ears pop, the tension of my arousal vanishing as apprehension takes hold instead. Turning on my heel, I stop short at the sight of Tamiel, the fallen angel who brought me out of purgatory. He’s wearing a slight frown as he assesses me.
“Where’s Gwen?” he asks, surveying the room before coming back to me.
“In the shower.”
“Ah, so it’s that way already, is it?” His frown turns to a smirk.
“No, it’s not.” I pull the shirt Gwen had been wearing over my head. Fuck, it smells like her. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to make sure the two of you haven’t killed each other.” Then he holds out a large bag. “And to deliver this to Gwen.”
“You’re an errand boy now?” I shouldn’t goad a fallen angel, but my mood is sour and it’s the only thing that makes me feel better.
“Helena won’t use her power in her condition. She’s being…cautious. The woman is worried something will happen to our child if she transports herself through her angelic grace.”
I take the offered bag and nod. “I’ll see my lady receives this.”
“You seem…better.”
“Day by day. Though I’ll admit, I don’t know if I’ll ever be my old self.”
He nods. “Demon venom is nasty stuff. I’m surprised it didn’t kill you outright.”
“I thought it had. It seemed like I was in Hell.” I shudder at the memory of being forced to experience Guinevere choosing Arthur, growing heavy with his child, loving him instead of me. The two of them banishing me from their sight forever. I’d been trapped in an endless nightmare of the future I’d always been afraid I’d have to endure.
“That’s the effect of the venom. I had to watch Helena die over and over until I came out of it. Not something I’d wish on my worst enemy, that.”
“I wouldn’t call it pleasant.” I run my hand through my hair and sigh. “Is there anything else you require?” I want him to leave me to my Gwen. She could come out of the shower at any moment, wrapped in nothing but a towel. He may be married to her sister, but Tamiel is still a man.
The angel chuckles and shakes his head. “Gabriel told us this is something the two of you must go through alone. He’ll return as soon as you’re healed. But should you need us to help, we’re just a call away.”
I don’t understand what he means, but I am not going to ask. Instead, I nod. “The sooner this is over, the better.”
He chuckles. “You two really don’t like each other, do you?”
That makes me frown. I loved her until she broke our bond. I’ll never be able to get over that. “You try living with the woman who rejected you. It’s not easy. I just want this over and done with so I can move on with my life.”
A smirk tells me I’ve amused him. “Best of luck with that one. I’ll leave you to your” —he gestures at me— “tea.”
Then the pressure in the room changes as he vanishes. The leather straps of the bag filled with Gwen’s belongings cut into my shoulder, reminding me of the real reason for Tamiel’s visit. I head down the hallway, listening for the sound of water. When I hear the sweet sound of singing coming from the partially open door, my chest tightens. In all the time I knew her, Queen Guinevere never sang. But her voice is beautiful. Haunting and mesmerizing.
I sit on the bed and just…listen, taking it all in. The harsh reality gripping me that once upon another time she could’ve been mine. But I wasn’t good enough. She chose Arthur.
I grit my teeth and rest my head in my hands. Arthur. He was my best friend, my king. I loved him, and I betrayed him, for her. I suppose I got what I deserved, a heart ever yearning for the one thing the two of us couldn’t share. Gwen’s love.
A soft shocked gasp pulls me from my wallow. Gwen stands in the doorway, long hair damp and dripping over her shoulder. She’s wrapped in a fluffy blue towel and her cheeks are rosy, eyes bright. She looks…perfect.
“What are you doing?” she snaps.
“Delivering your clothes. Tamiel says hello, by the way.”
She pulls her towel tighter and glances at the door. “He’s here?”
I shake my head. “Not anymore.” Then I rise, looking her over. “I didn’t know you had such a gift for song, my lady. Yet another part of yourself you kept hidden.”
Her eyes widen. “Y—you heard me singing?”
“I did.”
Those perfectly arched brows pull together, a frown of concentration. “Sit down, Lancelot.” Her tone is strong and commanding.
“Why?”
She shakes her head and smiles. “Oh, thank heaven. It doesn’t work.”
“What doesn’t?”
“My song. I’m a siren, but along with my magic, the siren spell is gone.”
Now it all makes sense. My wild and crazy abandon, the love that ate away at my sanity. Queen Guinevere never loved me. She craved me, wanted to control me, and bewitched me with her siren song in order to get what she wanted. She’s the one responsible for all my suffering.
Gwen
“You’re a siren.” Lancelot’s voice is rough and broken.
“I am.”
“So…none of what I felt…what I still feel echoes of…none of that is real?”
How do I want to answer this? I could tell him I used my song on him, forced him to think he loved me so I could have him, but that would be a lie. I don’t know if I can lie to this man. But if I do, that will end everything between us. He’ll live under the false notion that our past is made from a spell and not a true connection.
“I…Lance, I wish I knew what to say to make this better.”
Blazing eyes lock onto mine. Anger, hurt, betrayal. “I was in love with you. I would’ve given my life for you, Gwen. But now I know it wasn’t real. How could you do that to me?”
My heart aches for the sadness in his voice. As angry and hurt as he left me all those centuries ago, I can’t let him think his feelings weren’t real. “I didn’t.”
“What?”
“I have never used my song. Not a single time in any of my lives.”
That strong jaw of his clenches and he stands. “How can I believe you? You could have me under your spell even now.”
“Take off your clothes.”
His expression is incredulous. “My lady?”
“I said, take off your clothes.”
“No.”
“Don’t you see? If I had you under my spell, you would be powerless to argue. You’d do whatever I told you. No question.”
He drags a hand through his thick hair and sighs. “I understand. I don’t know what is a worse fate, thinking I loved you and lost you, or thinking you betrayed me with magic.”
“You never loved me. Neither of you did.” I fight the tears in my voice. “Because I loved you both, and if you had truly felt the same way, our tale would’ve ended very differently.” Now that I know love was the key to breaking my curse, it’s even more obvious that Lancelot wasn’t my true love. If we could have broken the curse, it would’ve happened long ago.
&nb
sp; “Don’t presume to tell me how I feel.”
“I’ll tell you whatever I damn well please. Now get out of here so I can put some clothes on.” Anger boils my blood as the last few minutes replays in my mind. He basically accused me of being responsible entirely for our transgressions. The man put all the blame on me. He was willing to believe he’d had no choice in his feelings.
“Gwen,” he starts, but falters.
“Don’t even try. You’ve only proven to me that it was a blessing I never ran away with you.”
The look in his eyes cuts me deep. There’s so much pain. “I didn’t think it was possible, but I believe I’d rather be in purgatory than trapped here with you any longer.”
He stands and runs a hand through his hair again, that compulsive gesture something I used to live to see. There’s something about the way his body shifts and the expression on his face. It’s erotic. But right now, I want nothing more than for him to leave.
“Get out.” I bite out the words because if I don’t, I might cry.
With a slight dip of his chin, he leaves and as soon as the door closes behind him, I let tears trail down my cheeks. Taking a harsh breath, I wipe my face and pull myself together. I can’t let him hurt me any longer. There’s too much at stake. My sisters need me to be strong. I’ve been good at pretending since I lost Lancelot the last time. I’ll continue the charade and close myself off. He can’t hurt what he can’t find.
Chapter Six
Lancelot
I can’t stand being here, but I can’t get Gwen out of my head. She’s the only woman who has had the power to bring me to my knees. I pace the small living room, playing her words over in my head. I never loved her? I loved her more than life itself. More than my devotion to my king. I loved her with a fierce strength that blinded me from all else.
My traitorous heart pulls me from hurt and anger into memories and I see it clear as day. Our place, the hawthorn tree where I pledged my everlasting devotion to my lady under the cover of a starry sky on a warm summer night. My legs tingle with restless energy as I wait for her. Even after all the time we’d spent together, the thought of seeing her, of holding my love in my arms, made me ache with need.
The instant I catch sight of her royal blue cloak through the trees my heart races and my pulse pounds in my ears. Her face is hidden by the cloak, but I know it is my Guinevere.
“My love,” I say, rushing to her, unable to bear not touching her. I push back the hood and cup her face in my hands. Those perfectly shaped lips turn up in a smile as she stares at me. Then she kisses me, a little moan falling from her at the contact and all is right in my world.
A slight rustling in the brush has her pulling back from me, fear in her expression. “What was that?”
I hold her close, not willing to let anything stop us from being together. This is the only time we have where we can be who we were truly destined to be. Here we’re Lancelot and Guinevere, two soul mates not separated by circumstance. I survey our surroundings, keeping her held tight to me with one arm while reaching for my sword with my free hand.
The silence surrounding us eases my worry. “It’s nothing.”
She nods, her fingers clutching my tunic. “We cannot keep doing this.”
Her voice is small, but it slices straight through me as though I’ve been run through by a white-hot blade. The thought of losing her makes me desperate to do anything I can in order to keep her. “Don’t say that. I’ll die before I lose you.”
Sadness fills her eyes as she locks gazes with me. “We are risking discovery every time we meet. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you because of me. If Arthur were to find out…to know things went beyond his hopes for an heir…he’d never be able to forgive us.”
Flashes of the first time we’d been together, of Arthur watching me move into her body. His heated gaze had been on me, his arousal unmistakable. I’d thought that was the beginning of something intense and passionate between the three of us, especially when he gripped my arm as I filled his wife with my seed. But he’d shied away afterward, shame on his face.
I press my forehead against hers, threading my fingers in her hair. “Run away with me. Leave him and be mine. You heard him, we can’t all be together like that again. But I can’t live without you. We can return to Avalon, request safety with the Lady of the Lake. Or we’ll sail to a distant land and take new names. I don’t care. I only want to be with you.”
I see the indecision in her eyes. She’s never admitted her love, but I don’t need words. Her love doesn’t have to be expressed with words, it is given freely with tender touches and secret glances. Her duty to her king is what’s stopping us now.
“My love, set aside Arthur, free yourself from your guilt. If you give him opportunity to put you aside as well, he can find a new queen. He can have his heir, Camelot will be secure, and we can be together.” It hurts to speak of abandoning the man who has become more to me than a friend. But he’s denying us all happiness because of his misguided notions of what love and marriage should be.
She takes her lower lip between her teeth, tears swimming in her eyes, and for a moment, I fear she’s going to deny me. Then, she nods.
My heart feels as though it might burst. She will truly be mine. “Tomorrow night,” I say, holding her tight. “Meet me here at midnight. Bring nothing. I will secure supplies for our journey. I promise, you will not regret this, my love. We will have the life we were meant for.”
I kiss her then, deep and lingering. I’m not willing to let her leave me just yet. Tonight, I will spread my own cloak on the forest floor and love her until the sky fills with light. And tomorrow? Tomorrow we begin living our truth. Together.
The sound of a door shutting pulls me from my thoughts. I don’t know how long I’d been there, reliving our last clandestine meeting, the one before she ruined me, but now I’m back in our flat and everything is different between us.
Gwen doesn’t look at me as she brushes past and heads into the kitchen. She moves about as though she belongs here, making herself something to eat while I’m here, still reeling from the memory I’d been stupid enough to fall back into.
A chime sounds from somewhere in the room. Disembodied and strange. Is this some sort of trick? I stand on my guard, ready to defend us both. But she pulls a slim device from her pocket and taps it a few times before smiling. That smile of hers has always melted me, even when I wanted to be anywhere but with her. It’s had me fighting temptation to betray my friend and king from our first encounter. Now I understand why it was so bewitching.
“Izzy. Yes, I’m here. Yes, with him. No. I can’t talk about that now, okay? Later, I promise.” She turns away from me and I wonder if the woman has gone mad. She’s talking into this strange piece of…glass? But, then again, she is a witch. That was a little tidbit I’d not been privy to during our tumultuous affair.
She sighs and walks down the hall, stepping into the bedroom she claimed as hers, and shutting the door behind her. I don’t know how I’m to survive her again. This woman destroyed everything good in me. Until her, I’d been virtuous, loyal, trustworthy. And then I threw it all away for love. But Guinevere never really loved me. It had been nothing more than a case of an unsatisfied queen punishing her king for straying. Even still, I’m the fool left behind in all this.
While she’s gone, I finish preparing the meal she’d been making. My arm throbs, the slowly healing wound making itself known. After any kind of exertion, this is the result. My blood burns, my body aches, and my dreams are filled with darkness and death.
The door opens and closes with a series of soft clicks as Guinevere returns to the living room. “Well, that’s settled.”
“What’s settled?”
“My job. I start tomorrow.”
“And what’ll you be doing?” I imagine her doing something soft and gentle, perhaps selling flowers.
“Izzy pulled some strings and got me a job at The Witch’s Brew Pub just round t
he corner. I’ve always wanted to try my hand at being a barmaid.” My shock must be apparent because her smile turns to a frown. “What?”
This cannot be happening. There has to be another option. “And what am I supposed to do while you’re working all day?”
“Oh, that’s easy. I’ll work the evenings. You’ll be sleeping by then.”
No. There’s no way on God’s green Earth I’ll let Guinevere, my Guinevere work nights at a pub while I sleep. She’s a queen for God’s sake. “No. This is—”
“Listen here, Sir Knight. You don’t own me. Not my body, nor my heart. I’ll be fine. I’ve taken care of myself for longer than you can fathom.”
The thought of her having to fend for herself makes me ill. She may not want me around, but I won’t let her go without my protection. My queen is my responsibility. I stride across the room until I have her against the wall, and there’s challenge in her eyes, so strong it burns my soul.
“I’ve never owned you because you aren’t a possession, but I’ll be damned if I let you out of my sight when God wills us to be together.” I can hear her sharp intake of breath and the delicious scent of lilacs nearly brings me to my knees. I spent many a night dreaming of the soft flowery scent of her hair. She tips her head and stares into my eyes, the shade of her irises so different from the copper I knew so long ago. Her mouth is close enough to kiss. I could give in to this raging desire between us, bridge the gap and remind her of what we had, but I can’t move beyond the color of her eyes.
“Your eyes…” I murmur, allowing my thumb to brush her cheek.
“I was cursed when we knew each other. Now I’m free.”
“Cursed?”
I want to taste her lips, just once to see if they’re still as sweet and soft as I remember. Her skin is warm and everything about her is calling to me. “Lance,” she breathes. “Lance, this is the opposite of what we should be doing.”