King of Avalon: a Dragon Shifter Paranormal Romance (Rise of the Elder Gods Book 2)

by Vivienne Savage

  And he also had no business whatsoever standing before her a grown man without a single stitch of clothing on his body save seared scraps and ribbons of scorched denim. The king of her memories always possessed a physique built for war and now was no exception.

  Despite how much her body yearned for him, contrary to the way she wanted to learn every inch of his new frame, one fact lingered at the forefront of her thought: the only way an adult Arthur could stand before her now would be if that meddlesome Merlin sent him back to her from the future.

  “I am going to kill that wizard.”

  Arthur became aware of many things when the spell dumped him into the past. The humid night smelled of trash, his clothing hadn’t survived the trip, and the only witness to his arrival appeared one breath from committing murder.

  Of all the possible places Merlin could have sent him to, of course the old man would choose the one place where she would be.

  Nimue. Lady of the Lake.

  How many lifetimes had she lived since their last one shared together? Little had changed. Time hadn’t dimmed her beauty, her face as familiar to him as his own. It also hadn’t diminished her temper. Her voice cut across the short distance with the sharpness of a blade.

  While she glowered, he fought back the urge to bridge the three yards of distance between them and take her into his arms. Hundreds of years of memories competed against the mission of his current lifetime, a sensation superseding muscle memory. Soul memory. His soul remembered her, and it craved what they once shared.

  It struck him as both hilarious and cruel that the same old feelings bubbled to the surface at once.

  “I’m glad you know who sent me. You can take me to him.”

  Fae were fickle creatures, and he reminded himself few were more capricious than the Lady of the Lake. She hadn’t been there when they faced the Titans. None of her kind had, despite many calls for aid. The selfish creatures had slipped into their gateways to the other realm and sealed the doors shut behind them, allowing no one in or out.

  No matter the feelings of seeing her inspired, he couldn’t allow his resolve to waver.

  “Maybe,” she said, followed by a long pause, “You might consider wearing clothing for this meeting, Arthur.”

  “Oh.”

  While the body was new to her, it was nothing she hadn’t seen in the past, and a life of fighting alongside the other dragons had accustomed Arthur to nudity.

  “I don’t...ah.”

  “For the love of the moon, come here.”

  Against all instincts telling him to deny her, Arthur followed her into the building and up a quiet stairwell. At the top of the landing, she unlocked a door and ushered him inside.

  The feeling of her surrounded him from every direction in a fourth-floor apartment imbued with the Lady of the Lake’s great power. Being with her had always been a lesson in serenity. For one moment—for just one moment, he knew peace and nearly forgot his quest.

  He knew this place, and he didn’t. The feel and look differed none from the former entrance hall of her grand palace beneath Loch Katrine. The trickling of miniature waterfalls careened over the stone walls and cool, damp air surrounded him.

  “You need clothes.”

  Arthur snapped out of it. “Yes. But I also need to find Merlin. Where can I find him?”

  The corner of her mouth quirked. “You presume I know the wizard’s whereabouts?”

  “You know everything, Nimue.”

  Those words must have pleased her. Her eyes glittered, a brief sparkle of amusement shining in their depths. It was gone as quick as it arrived, concealed in that annoying habit the fae had of hiding her feelings from him. “He’s here in New York, actually.”

  The freely given information gave him hope that she wouldn’t be difficult. The last thing he needed was to be in debt for a future favor or service to the fae.

  “Good. I need to find him. Now.”

  “You need a shower.”

  “I need to find Merlin. Believe me, if I thought I could delay this mission long enough for a shower, I would, but this is urgent.”

  “Mm. So I gathered, given that the wizard has shattered the rules of time and space to send you back in time.” Nimue tapped her nail against her lower lip and studied him, her gaze fixated above his chest. “How old are you, Arthur?”

  “I’m twenty-seven.”

  “So the wizard hurled you twenty-three years into the past.”

  Nimue bridged the gap between them in the unnerving way of a fae enchantress, simply taking one step and bridging several feet of distance. She guided him from the open entrance room of her flat and down a narrow hall. Stones glimmered in the walls and shone with mystic luster. The whole place hummed with magic yet was as fragrant as the sweet water of the mossy lake she’d once inhabited.

  Her hands guided him with surprising strength for a fae into a restroom. “Do you know how these work?”

  “Yes, but I need to find Merlin. Where can I find him and—?”

  “As you came from the future, I’ll assume that you understand the operation of shower knobs and bathroom fixtures. Shower. Clothes will be waiting for you. Whatever task the wizard assigned, you can wait a few minutes.”

  “Nimue—”

  “I will speak with you once you are no longer a foul eyesore in my home.” With that, she shut the door on Arthur and his inquiries.

  What little remained of his clothing wasn’t suitable for anything but the rubbish bin. Arthur knew that, and he also knew there was no sense in testing the fae’s patience when he needed her help.

  His smell probably offended her delicate sensibilities.

  Fine then. He’d clean up because he’d draw less attention on the street that way, not because she willed it to be so.

  He turned on the water, a rare luxury during his timeline when plumbing, electricity, and such conveniences no longer existed outside of a handful of refugee settlements scattered across the world.

  It wouldn’t hurt to briskly wash off the grime, sweat, and blood of what had been three terrible days of battle against both the Titans and their followers.

  Relenting, Arthur stepped inside and stood beneath the pelting, steaming spray. From that moment, his allegiances to promptly perform Merlin’s task faltered, and he found that a few minutes became several, and it became increasingly difficult to part from the luxurious box of dark marble threaded with golden veins. It surprised him none that Nimue lived in splendor.

  What surprised him was his willingness to enjoy it.

  Gotta keep moving, he told himself, however reluctant he was to emerge. He hated when Nimue was right, as she and Merlin often were in the past during his reign as king. During the youth of his first lifetime before Merlin imbued him and his knights with renewable life, he often bucked against their wisdom, only to cave in when he realized both mystical beings were correct.

  Although he hadn’t heard her enter again, Arthur emerged from the shower to find a fresh towel and a tidy pile of clothes waiting for him on the adjacent stone table. It didn’t even cross his mind to wonder where she had gotten such things, especially in his exact size. He dried and donned the jeans and long-sleeved shirt, then left the fragrant bathroom behind.

  “Nimue?”

  “I’m here,” her voice echoed from around the corner.

  He stepped into the parlor to find her seated on a chaise upholstered in decadent sapphire velvet, stirring a steaming mug. Wispy trails billowed from another cup on the tea service situated on the table. “Better?”

  “Well...Yeah,” Arthur admitted.

  “Good. Sit. Drink. When have you last eaten?”

  Arthur paused. “What’s the cost?”

  Nimue rolled her eyes. Her exasperated, exaggerated scoff would have amused him at any other time. “There is no cost or expectation of a favor to be repaid. I am allowed to perform deeds in kindness, Arthur.”

  He continued to stare at her.

  “I’ve changed.”


  He cocked one brow.

  “Sit down and drink the bloody tea.”

  That time, Arthur barked out an involuntary laugh. “You haven’t changed.”

  “Neither have you. Since when have I last charged you for anything?”

  “There was that time I needed an elixir to cure Mordred of his curse.”

  “That wasn’t for you. It was for Mordred,” she pointed out. “Mordred needed an elixir, and the price was his to pay.”

  Arthur hated that she was right. He settled and balanced the warm mug of tea between his hands, a foreign sensation unfamiliar to his current body. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d rested or sat down without the perpetual fear of a Titan ripping the roof away from their safehouse.

  Seated across from him, Nimue watched him with the calculating eyes of the fae. “Playing with time is no game, Arthur.”

  “I know that.”

  “By being here, you endanger everything, including your own future. There’s a reason such studies are forbidden among wizards. Your mere presence in a place where you already exist could create a time paradox.”

  “My future is already endangered, Nimue. Every future is endangered. And I need your help. I need you now more than I’ve ever needed you.”

  He needed her in ways that shamed him. His desires for her should have taken a backseat to the safety of the world as they knew it, but they emerged just the same, awareness of her beauty and the feminine scent of her fae skin wafting to him—honey dust, cream, and woman. Clean rain. A kiss of snow and ice.

  That was a side Arthur had long suppressed. Fighting a losing battle against divine beings hellbent on destroying the human race and its many paranormal cousins left no time for romance.

  And until now, he’d never met her at all in this form.

  “Please. Help us. I can’t fight the Titans alone.”

  “No. I won’t be a party to this perversion against nature. Speak no more of it. Every secret from the future endangers the present.”

  “Don’t you understand that the danger exists whether I warn you of it or not?”

  “I’ve made my decision, Arthur.” The fae set her tea aside and kneaded her temples. “I will take you to Merlin, but only after you’ve rested. I disapprove of what you’ve done, but I won’t send you out into the world exhausted with an empty stomach. I will do that much for you in the name of your quest.”

  “Who says my stomach is empty?” Arthur challenged, only for his treacherous belly to rumble and growl.

  Nimue smirked. “I’ll get the roast into the oven.”

  He had half a mind to stalk outside without her assistance, but he knew the likelihood of stumbling into Merlin in the busy streets was as unlikely as his chance of defeating Gaia with a Weed Whacker. It would have been satisfying but was ultimately impossible. As fast as they could hack and burn the Titaness, she regenerated and renewed her flesh from the surrounding earth.

  “Fine.”

  After all, a war could not be won on an empty stomach, and he would be stronger if he filled his belly while he had the chance.

  Two

  Crowded city streets surrounded Arthur and Nimue on all sides as the early morning traffic congested the roadways of Manhattan and pedestrians moved shoulder to shoulder down sidewalks. Under normal circumstances, she would have thought New York’s tough crowd to be dauntless, but the intimidating breadth of Arthur’s shoulders and his enormous stature seemed to leave a path for them.

  Or maybe it was the air of danger he exuded. Arthur had just the right amount of “Don’t fuck with me” on full display for all to see.

  Contrasting that, the mystified man frequently stopped to stare whenever a plane flew overhead. Sometimes a car would backfire, or some other noise startled him, and then he’d reach for his sword as anxious as a caged tiger at an exhibit. Whenever he seemed ready to draw Excalibur, she touched his arm. He’d meet her gaze and gradually settle.

  “You’re jumpy when you’re exhausted. I see that hasn’t changed. You should have slept.”

  “‘I’m jumpy because danger can lurk around any corner.”

  Nimue rolled her eyes. Her intention had been for the time-traveling king to rest, but he’d spent the wee hours that morning pacing the parlor and gazing out the windows. While she lay in bed, torn between inviting him to join her for old times—strictly to provide comfort to him and nothing more—she listened to the rhythm of his steps as he moved through her home.

  Inevitably, Nime realized he wouldn’t sleep and roused herself after only a few hours to guide him to his destination. Manhattan truly was the city that never slept, busy at all hours. Cars drove bumper-to-bumper, and pedestrians scurried through intersections where no drivers appeared to obey the crosswalk laws. It was a wonder each day that more people didn’t get run over.

  “Here,” she said, stopping before the glass front of a building covered by a doorman in a fine suit and long coat.

  “Here? This is where he lives?”

  “Mmhmm. Where else did you expect a wizard to reside?”

  “I don’t know. I never gave it much thought. My world is different from this. We don’t have cars, public transportation, or electric lines and power. This…” Arthur inhaled a deep breath and craned his neck to gaze at a skyscraper stretching toward the clouds. “It’s beautiful in a way I never thought it could be. No photograph ever captured Mom’s stories.”

  “You were really young then when the...whatever happened.” It isn’t my business. I don’t want to know. I don’t need to know.

  Knowing was the way to ruin.

  “I was, yeah. When the world went to shit, Mom and Dad packed away what we had and ran for it. We spent my childhood fleeing from one place to another to stay ahead of the Titans. They—”

  She stalled his words with a raised hand and shook her head. “No details.”

  His features hardened. “Those details are why I’m here.”

  “I know, and you can tell them to the old man. He’s the one who will help you.”

  Her fae nature objected. Inside, the lost opportunity to learn even the most meager morsel of knowledge wrung her heart. No matter how much it tempted her, however, uncovering future events warranted caution. She couldn’t afford to learn something that would irrevocably change her perceptions.

  Something that would tug at the persistent heartstrings she’d developed for the mortals of the human realm, a flaw her mother frequently lorded over her.

  “Anyway, follow me. You don’t seem like you have a lot of time on your hands to stand outside admiring the city streets.”

  True to every wizard cliche, Merlin dwelled above urban scrawl by claiming the highest penthouse in Manhattan. Nimue couldn’t bear the thought of living hundreds of feet above the rest of the world, cut off from the earth. She craved the energy and life flowing through the ground, even if their kind had polluted it. Luxury had its place; Merlin’s choice was, however, quite dull.

  A little magic eased them past security and onto the private elevator reserved for the top penthouse. Standing trapped so close to Arthur was both heaven and hell. He may have had a new body and unfamiliar appearance, but the presence he exuded was just the same. Sharing the same space with him after centuries apart aroused her body in ways she loathed and resented.

  Arthur glanced at her.

  Please tell me he can’t smell that…

  He leaned away from her. Subtle, but unmistakable. Neither of them spoke, which gave time for her mind to wander as she stole glances at him from the corner of her eye. Contrary to her desires, her mind and her eyes wandered. Years—no, decades had honed his body to the peak of physical fitness, creating a frame supposed by thick muscle. His enormous biceps threatened to pop the seams of the t-shirt she’d given him, and the cotton snugly stretched around his broad chest.

  He’d always been an athletic man and reasonably capable with a sword, but the draconic genes made him a beast. At least six and a half feet.
Maybe more. He was taller than the human who sired him, but he possessed many of Nathaniel’s features. Curiosity, as well as a necessity—or so she had convinced herself—had prompted her to once look in on his family.

  Nimue could have stared into those green eyes for countless hours. Instead, she struggled to make eye contact with the warrior beside her. Enough tension filled his spine for her to suspect he waited for a battle to break out at any moment. She also surmised that the man hadn’t stepped into an elevator since he was a child and likely never one so fancy as the glass-walled spectacle of Merlin’s high rise. They ascended above a stunning and somewhat stomach-churning view of the city below. Arthur appeared unphased, arms crossed over his chest. At last, his anxiety had eased.

  Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was a dragon capable of bursting free from the elevator and taking flight, if necessary.

  “Are you sure he’ll be pleased to see you?” she asked, shattering the silence.

  “Pleased? Perhaps not, but it’s necessary.”

  “Hm.”

  One dark brow lifted. It didn’t matter that Arthur wore a new face; Nimue recognized the look. “What?”

  “You’ll be lucky if the old man doesn’t blast you out of your shoes,” Nimue muttered.

  The doors dinged open, admitting them into a comfortably appointed parlor with marble floors, leather chairs, and vibrant ferns in oversized pots. Arthur strode out with confidence and made his way to the door.

  “Are you just going to knock and tell him everything?”

  “Yes,” he replied, quick and to the point. “He’ll believe me.”

  “If he doesn’t think you’re some doppelganger or faerie parlor trick disguised to uncover his secrets.”

  “He’ll believe me,” Arthur repeated again with such confidence she wanted to believe he was right.

  “Mm.” Nimue stepped back and faded from view, becoming shadow and nothing more, hovering in the subspace between their world and Elfhame. One step in either direction would place her in another realm.

  Arthur raised his hand to knock. “He’ll understand—"