Empress of Fae (Blood of a Fae, #3)

by Briar Boleyn

So when I looked down the staircase and saw the other woman I had sworn my entire life to protect, my heart skipped a beat and red flared up before my eyes. Morgan Pendragon. The bitch who had left me for dead.

“You made her your wife. Without asking, might I add. You made her our empress. Also without asking, might I add. And now she’s gone.” She shook her head slowly. “No wife. No empress.” “Yes. I am… bereft.”

Now, I caught Lyrastra looking up at my horns, her face savage. “Such a trivial part of you. A part you might have lived without. But me. My arm.” She met my eyes. I held her gaze, unswerving. Her voice broke, “My arm, Draven.”

sardonically.

“And just Regent,” Lyrastra clarified. “Not Queen Regent or any of that nonsense. I’m keeping the spot warm, I’m not keeping it.”

“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?”

“The Knights of the Round Table,” Galahad continued. “It is a good name. For we are all acting as knights of Pendrath. Are we not swearing to serve and to protect with our very lives if need be?”

“It’s fucking hell, Gawain.” “You’re on your way to her. You’ll see her soon,” he promised me convincingly. I gritted my teeth. “Or she’ll turn me away and I’ll spend the rest of my life like a dog at her heels.”

“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.”

“You were the very best part of my life. You were never afraid of me. And I was never afraid of you. I can’t… I can’t imagine you not being with me. And yet, here I am, a thousand miles away, because I’m a fool and an idiot, and I love you and yet I left you.”

“But I love you, and you’re so far away.” I hiccuped, then wiped at my face. I was a mess. But he just smiled down at me with a smile so tender, it wrenched my heart. “Do you know where I am right now?” he asked. I shook my head. “Well, if I haven’t been assassinated in my sleep by a vindictive cook…” I punched him. “Don’t even say such a thing.” He grinned. “Or if we haven’t been boarded by pirates or capsized…” My eyes began to widen. “Pirates? What do you mean? Where are you?” His grin deepened. “I’m on a ship. More than halfway across the Kastra by now. I’m on my way to you, Morgan. Did you really think in a million years and a million lifetimes that I’d ever be able to stay away?”

“You can kill me, but my soul will come back and find yours.”

Little did Arthur’s Lord General know, I was already married—and that my husband was crossing continents and seas to be by my side and help me put down my kingdom’s tormentors.

“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.” He gave a shaky laugh. “Hell, I'm already doing it, Morgan, and you haven't even told me to.”

“My mate,” he breathed against my ear. “Say it, Morgan.” “You're my mate," I whispered back. "My husband. I wouldn't have it any other way.”

“I'd rather be a villain by your side than play the hero for anyone else.

“So consume me,” I whispered. “I see your shadows, too, Draven. And I'll only burn for you.”

You are no longer a Pendragon. You are only The Childslayer

Almost instantly, a deadly hail of arrows was released into the air. The missiles cut through the night in a grim volley of retribution and converged upon my brother where he stood. Arthur Pendragon. King of Pendrath. The scourge of three kingdoms. The Childslayer. Without exception, the deadly shafts found their mark.