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“You're all I think about. You're all I see. I'm so tied to you, I barely know who I am anymore.”
Perhaps I was doomed to always be left by the women I loved.
And the fire that burned within her... She was a brilliant enigma born of starlight and fire. Within her, I saw the potential for greatness beyond measure.
She haunted my soul. She was my constant reverie. The vision of all I longed for.
“I doubt she’ll accept it anytime soon,” I said, not a little sourly. I had told her that I loved her. She hadn’t exactly returned the sentiment.
Only from the crucible of battle could the elixir of peace be distilled,
“I’ve waited my entire lifetime for Morgan,” I said simply. “I’ll go after her even if she doesn’t want me. Even if she runs in the opposite direction. I’ll follow her to the ends of Aercanum, and I’ll never stop.”
Above ground, the Rose Court is a beautiful place. Below ground, not even the strongest whitewash can cleanse the charnel house of horrors that Arthur has created for his amusement.
In my gilded cage, I had dreamed of death. I had not dared to dream of freedom.
“Shattered or whole. Kneeling or standing. I’ll get to her, and I won’t ever leave. This time, I’ll make her understand what we are, together. And if anyone dares to hurt her, I’ll burn them to the ground without a second thought.”
“What would you call us, Morgan? Would you have us come up with some trite name?” Lancelet’s voice was tinged with sarcasm. The words stung, as she had meant them to. “Knights of the Round Table, perhaps? Or some other silly nonsense?”
“As a child, one believes monsters live only in the pages of books. Then one grows up.”
In that moment, cocooned within his protective hold, I realized I was in the arms of the man who was not just my husband but also my refuge.
“There are no limits to my love for you, Morgan. When Myntra and Eskira and every place in Aercanum have crumbled into oblivion and the universe itself dissolves into nothing, my heart will still beat for you.”
Did you really think in a million years and a million lifetimes that I’d ever be able to stay away?”
“I don’t want,” she whispered. I glanced up at her. Her eyes were blazing fiercely. “I need.” I swallowed hard.
Empires are not spun from the silk of virtue but from the threads of ambition.”
For looking into Draven's soul meant looking into my own reflection. And who had ever dared to look into oneself so honestly as I knew my mate had done with me?
“Take it, Morgan. Please.” There was nothing like hearing a massive, monster of a man beg me to take him in my mouth.
“But what I do know,” he whispered, his breath hot against my skin, “is that you deserve to be worshiped as a fucking goddess, as the warrior princess that you are. You deserve to have every inch of your body adored all night long. You deserve to be fucked until you scream.”
“Let me dominate you here, let me command you. Let me tell you to sit on my cock, let me tell you to take me in your mouth, but always know that outside of here, you're not just my equal, you're my fucking superior, and I'd follow you to the ends of the world if you told me to.”
“Yours is the only kingdom I'll pay fealty to. Yours are the only feet at which I'll willingly kneel.” He leaned back and touched my chin, lifting it. “I'd rather be a villain by your side than play the hero for anyone else. The world is dark and vile, but I'd willingly follow you into the depths of hell itself. All I want to do is shield you. Do you understand, Morgan? You're my redemption, good or bad, right or wrong.”
She gave you all she had. How fascinating. Is that what motherhood is? Giving all for one’s offspring?” She sounded skeptical.
A man stepped out. For a moment, I was too shocked to do anything but stare. Wild tendrils of gray hair framed a face chiseled with the strength of storms. The man exuded a dark majesty that chilled me to the bones. Tall and commanding, he moved with the air of a king who had seen ages pass like fleeting moments. Eyes fierce and forbidding looked into my own, and as they did, I felt filled with dread. Red rimmed the corners of his lips. The color of blood. The man was the embodiment of something intrinsically primeval, vast and terrifying.
“Born of a sister, though? I am not your sister, Arthur, or need I remind you?”
In the heart of spring, a child shall rise, From royal blood, a king's demise. Born of sister, born that day, Kings shall fall in disarray. When springtime blooms, the babe is blessed, Born of kin from the king's own nest, A sister's child, the kingdom shakes, The death of kings, the birth awaits. Born of power in endless night, To cast down realms, a dark birthright. Both fae and mortals, their thrones shall swirl, In the child's hands, lies the end of the world.
The creature's vocalizations sounded like an eerie human whine, as if the glatisant's past victims were somehow still alive within it and calling out to be saved.
Wax. He would be wax beneath my hands in the end, and I would feel no regret as his flesh flowed in melted rivulets.
Our fates were entwined in bonds of blood and destiny.
“Will you be blessed, little one?” She raised her eyes to mine. “Medra. Her name is Medra.”
Something evil had begun here today. A darkness was rising. Something deep inside me told me it had happened once before. And that the world could not endure it if this evil rose again.
