Brooks

Next to witches, shifters are the most difficult group of creatures I’ve ever encountered. The five men and two women sit around the cracked oak table, a few of the guys with beers in their hands. They won’t say a word to me. The women won’t even glance my way. I’m not part of their trusted pack.

“Okay, listen, this is bloody ridiculous. I’m here to help,” I say, dragging a hand through my hair.

“Where is Sam?” the largest of the men asks.

I cock an eyebrow, knowing full well he means my father. “Sam?”

One of the women, the dark-haired woman with bronzed skin and striking green eyes, shakes her head. “I told you we can’t trust this half-breed.”

I pour myself a glass of scotch and toss back the amber liquid. It burns and settles warmly in my stomach. “I’m here to help track down your missing mate. But in turn, I’m going to have to call in the favor you seven each owe my father, Samyaza.”

“Sam is your father?”

I nod. “He unlocked my grace because we need all the power we can get.” Closing my eyes, I press my palms to the cool wood of the table top and let my grace flow through my hands. A collective gasp fills the room from the shifters. When I open my eyes, I see the grain of the wood glowing with my power. “Is that proof enough for you?”

“Where is he? Where is Logan?” The female’s voice cracks with desperation.

I take her hand and hold tight, not letting her pull away. A low rumble fills the air and it takes me a moment to realize the sound is coming from the rest of the pack members. “I can use their mate bond to help find him,” I say. Then I turn my attention back to her. “What’s your name?”

“Kiki,” she says.

“All right, Kiki. This might hurt a bit.”

She nods, and I send my grace through her. Her sharp intake of breath and the tension in her hand tell me I was right. It hurts. But I keep going, pulling on the link between her and Logan. My heart sinks at what I find. Releasing her, I stand and pace in front of the window.

“Did you find him?” she asks.

“He’s alive. But he isn’t on this plane of existence.”

Brow furrowing, she stares hard at me as though trying to puzzle out my meaning. “What?”

“I think he’s in Avalon.”

“We have to go get him.” She glances from person to person, waiting for them to agree. But no one does.

“Kiki, we can’t. If you go to Avalon uninvited, you never return.” The other woman’s voice is soft and low. Any other day I’d call it soothing. But now, it’s laced with sorrow.

“We have to. We have to get him back.” Kiki is bordering on hysterics now, but I can’t do anything to calm her. “How did he get there? What could’ve happened that made him go?”

You can’t get into Avalon without a willing heart. Therein lies the problem. Kiki’s mate chose to leave her.

“I’m so sorry, Kiki,” I mutter.

“No. He wouldn’t leave me. There’s no way.”

“I don’t know what else to tell you. I can’t risk going in without an invitation, and unless they let him go, he’ll be there forever.”

Tears shine on her cheeks, but she takes a heavy breath and holds her head high. “Then we’ll have to find a way to get invited, because I’m not going to accept that my mate left me. Something happened to make him go.”

I understand her determination. I’ve only known Gwen a short while and I’d do anything to bring her back if she were lost. I stare into Kiki’s green eyes and make a promise I don’t know if I can keep, but with Excalibur and Lancelot at our side, perhaps it’ll be possible to deliver Logan. “I’ll do what I can to find him. I might have a way to get us invited.”

“Thank you.” Her lip wobbles but she holds it all together.

The biggest guy at the table stands and walks around it until he’s standing right in front of me. At first, I mistake his tension for aggression, but he offers me a handshake.

“I’m Rhys.” His skin tone and eyes match Kiki’s, but his hair is dark as ebony where hers is a rich coffee. I shake his hand and glance from him to Kiki. “She’s my sister,” he offers.

“I thought as much.”

“Now, what do you want in return?”

Here’s the part I’ve been dreading. “There’s a war brewing.”

He laughs. “There’s always a war. Demons and angels, fallen and their brothers, witches and other witches.”

“This one means the end of the world.”

“What else is new?”

“I’m not being dramatic. I’m charged to help stop the apocalypse. But the demons aren’t relenting, and the key we need to close the gates between worlds is in danger. I need your help.”

Rhys looks me dead in the eye and nods. “You tell us when and where.”

“Thank you.”

My phone chimes from my pocket and I pull it free, glancing at the text message from Rachel. Why is the bloody witch texting me?

Something is happening at the house.

I type back a rapid response.

Where are you?

Grand coven meeting in Devon. We thought it would be safe with the wards we put up.

Shit. “I have to go. I’ll be in contact.”

Rhys nods again and shakes my hand once more. “We’re at your disposal.”

I rush out the door and to my car, nerves prickling the back of my neck. Something is wrong. Gwen’s in danger. Dammit. She’s in danger and I left her with Lancelot. I’ve fallen into the same sense of false security she has about the knight. My father warned me once. Gwen won’t see the risk of trusting Lancelot, even after he’s gone dark. If he goes dark.

I peel out of the parking lot and head toward her. Hours. It’s going to take me hours, and that’s precious time I don’t have if something has found them. If Lance hasn’t protected her.

Gwen

I can’t sleep. The rain won’t stop hammering on the window panes, reminding me of the storm I caused. Was I still causing it?

The clock in the hall chimes midnight and I huff, tossing the blankets off my legs and standing. I need tea and a good book. Wrapping in a sweater, I make my way down the stairs. My belly flips at the clink of glass from the kitchen.

“Lance?” I call, hoping to God I’m not wrong.

“My name…is Lancelot,” he says, his words a slurred mess.

“Are you drunk?” I ask, taking in the nearly empty bottle of scotch on the table.

“Does my queen disapprove?”

Grabbing the bottle, I pull his glass toward me with my free hand and pour. Then I drink the entire thing down in one gulp. I sigh and set the glass on the table. “No. It would seem neither of us can sleep.”

“Do you really think we’re not destined to be together? That someone else can love you like I do?”

“Don’t do this.” I turn away and walk to the window, the rain pelting the glass and running down in rivulets.

“I can’t keep lying.”

That gets my attention. I whip around to face him. Even drunk as a skunk with his hair mussed and his clothes disheveled, he’s so handsome I ache for him. “Lying?”

“You ran because of our link. You didn’t want to hurt me.”

“Of course. I’d never hurt you willingly.”

“But I never told you what Gabriel did.”

My stomach turns to stone. “What are you talking about?”

“We haven’t been linked since before we got here. I made him break it. But you’ll leave me. If I tell you the truth…you’ll leave.”

His slurred speech makes him hard to understand, but I got the gist. He’s led me to believe one thing when the opposite is true. “We’re not linked?”

“No. I couldn’t let you be with me because you felt obligated.”

My heart hurts. Would I have run? Maybe. Gabriel knew what he was doing when he linked us. I’d never have given Lance the time of day if I hadn’t been forced. Now, I don’t think I could leave him if I wanted to. He’s complicated, but he’s my complication.

“Lance, it doesn’t matter, okay? We’re here now.”

He stands and sways as he walks toward me. “You would have left me, wouldn’t you?” Then his big body is inches from mine and he’s running his knuckles over my cheek. “But I would have done the same thing at first. It hurt too much to see you.”

I reach up and cup his jaw. “It hurt me too.”

“I need you to give us a chance, Gwen. Let me show you how good we can be again.”

I can’t resist him. My lips are like magnets attracted to his. I lean forward and take his mouth with mine, tasting the scotch on his tongue. His hands are in my hair and my body molds to his.

Then the sound of a throat clearing breaks us apart. My heart lurches when I see a shadowed figure in the hall.

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” Brooks’ voice is cold and distant, but there’s something in his eyes. Desire?

I cross my arms over my chest, guilt and confusion swirling inside me. “No. I…couldn’t sleep. I didn’t know you were coming back tonight.”

“Rachel texted me. She said something was wrong. Are you all right?”

Lance curls an arm around me and says, “She caused a big storm.”

“You?” Brooks asks. “You used magic?”

I nod. “I think so. It was wild magic, not the controlled spells I’m used to.”

He sags in relief. “I thought something had happened.”

Lance laughs. “It did. Guinevere happened. She tried to take out the house with a wind storm.”

I move out of Lance’s arms and stand between the two men. “It was an accident.”

Lance’s fingers twine with mine and he pulls me back, but Brooks takes my other hand. “Come on, Gwen. I’ll walk you to your room.”

“She was perfectly happy with me until you got here.” Lance’s voice is laced with venom.

“Well, she doesn’t seem to feel that way now.”

That’s it. I am not a possession for the two of them to fight over. “I am standing right here, and I assure you, I’m quite capable of making my own decisions.” I pull my hands free of both men’s grasps and straighten my shoulders. “Good night. Both of you.”

My footsteps are too loud on the old wooden staircase, but I don’t care. Someone is behind me. One of them followed me. My fingers itch with the desire to cast a binding spell, something to stop him from asking more of me than I can give, but I resist. I don’t want to hurt him.

“Gwen, wait.” It’s Brooks. His fingers wrap gently around my elbow and I stiffen as we both reach the top of the stairs.

“I just want to go to bed. A lot has happened. I need quiet.”

He pulls me until I turn around and face him. “So…the nothing that’s between you and Lancelot…it doesn’t look like nothing. You’ve made your choice?”

“I don’t…I don’t know.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you with him. He’s dangerous to you. Don’t you see?” His eyes lock on mine and I can’t deny the spark between us. “Please think about what I’ve said. Think about what we could have.”

“I’m not sure,” I whisper. I hate this feeling. I’m all too familiar with the guilt.

Brooks presses his lips to mine and I soften. His hands are warm on my skin, his clean-shaven jaw a reminder of how different he is from Lancelot. “Gwen,” he murmurs against my mouth. His hips press against mine, the hard length of him impossible to ignore.

“Stop.” I turn my face and press my fingers to his lips. “This isn’t the right time.”

“But it’s right for you and him?”

I shake my head. “No. It’s…complicated. Everything is more complex than it seems.”

“I can’t believe that. Who do you want? What do you want?”

Frustration grips me. He doesn’t understand. “I don’t know what I want.” My visions, as much as I should let them go and live life—I can’t. “I’m sorry, Brooks. If this were any other situation, I’d choose you and we’d fall in love. But it’s not. I won’t be free of Lancelot. Not ever. Not after we close the seal and stop the end of the world. Not even after I die. He’s been in my heart so long, I think he’s actually a permanent part of it.”

He slides his fingers through my hair and brushes the strands over my shoulder. “You’ll choose me in the end.”

“How do you know?”

“Because, with the way I feel about you, there’s no other option.”

I wish I could tell him I feel the same. It would be so much easier. I could make my vision true, be happy with him, save the world, save Lance. “Good night, Brooks.”

Hand on the doorknob, I open my bedroom door and step inside the room. Brooks nods, and murmurs, “Sleep well, Gwen.”

This time I do fall asleep, but my dreams are fevered with Lancelot and I in bed twisted in passionate lovemaking while Brooks watches from a chair in the corner of the room. But then they change from heated to terrifying as once again, Lancelot lies dying in my arms because I chose him and I wake up more certain than ever that I have to try to stay away from them both.