Lancelot

I’ve no clue where I’m going, but I’m sure Morgan will find me. Excalibur is still at my hip, but its power is dwindling. I can feel my blood changing as the demon takes over. Brooks was right. It wants to rage, to destroy and take no prisoners. Have I done the right thing in leaving? What if Gwen was the only thing keeping me grounded?

A gnarled old tree stands atop a rise in the forest, its roots exposed and twisted, giving the tree the appearance of some kind of gate. I shake my head and take a deep breath as I walk farther into the woods, my shoes crunching on the ground the only sound in the eerily silent forest, but the tree calls to me. I move toward it, the vibration of power stronger the closer I get.

“Do you still have the sword?” Morgan’s voice runs down my spine like ice water, stopping me in my tracks.

Turning, I see her perched on a moss covered boulder. She’s dressed in a gown of deep purple with a neckline cut so deep I can nearly see her navel. Settled between her breasts is the glowing moonstone from Gwen’s drawing. Dark hair tumbles over one shoulder all the way to her waist. It falls like a shiny curtain of ebony and moves as though she’s underwater even though there is no wind blowing.

“I said, do you have the sword?” She narrows her eyes and slides to the ground. Fluid steps bring her close to me but I don’t feel fear. Instead, unwanted arousal courses through me. My tainted blood calling to hers.

“I do.”

“And do I have you?”

Indecision grips me. My human heart screams in protest as my demon blood answers for me, “Yes. I’m yours.”

Her hand slides up my chest. “Good. Poor Guinevere. I’m always breaking her heart.”

I bristle at the mention of my beloved and my heart takes control of my demon. I crush my lips to Morgan’s, taking her by surprise. Using the moment of distraction, I grip the moonstone and pull until the chain snaps. She growls, but I shove her back, hard enough to send her slamming into the boulder. Then I throw the stone into the air and unsheathe Excalibur. If I’m going to lose myself, I’ll do this one last thing in service of my queen.

The blade slices the air and connects with the moonstone. An explosion of light fills the air as the stone turns to dust and I watch in awe as three trails of what must be magic spread in different directions.

“No! What have you done?” Morgan screams, rushing me.

“I may be yours, but that power wasn’t.”

“You are a fool if you think she’d ever choose you, Lancelot.” She snarls my name before clamping her palm over my shoulder. “She’s already in Arthur’s arms.”

Her lips find mine again, but this time it’s a vision she puts in my head rather than lust.

Gwen falling against Brooks, tears streaming down her face and my note in her hand. He strokes her hair and holds her with a tender reverence. It’s an expression I’ve seen before, in another life. He’s looking at her in the same way Arthur used to look at both of us. It was something we never acted on…save once.

“No,” I whisper, but the vision doesn’t leave. He tips her face up and kisses away the tears before scooping her into his arms and taking her mouth in a passionate kiss. “Stop this, Morgan.”

“It’s pointless for you to fight for her. She doesn’t want you. Can’t you see? Gwen will always choose Arthur. It’s her destiny. Just as yours is to be alone.” Her words hit me in the chest because they’re true. It’s why Arthur’s soul came back and found us. “You’re only hurting her by trying to stay. Have you ever thought about her curse? True love could have broken it. Why didn’t you? Arthur was supposed to break her curse, but you came in and ruined everything.” Her lips brush my ear as she whispers, “You are the reason she burned.”

Excalibur hums, calling to me and a thrill runs through me. Maybe I’m still worthy after all. I pull the sword from the leaves and swing, strong and true. The blade connects with Morgan’s neck and her eyes widen in shock right before her head is severed. Her body falls to the ground and turns to ash before my eyes. Instant relief floods me, followed by crippling loss. She was right. I am the reason Gwen suffered.

My blood prickles in my veins and the demon claws at me from the inside. I stare at Excalibur and understand what I have to do. I can’t let myself become a monster. I walk toward the large old tree and close my eyes. I’ll take myself out of the equation. Return to purgatory.

“Lancelot,” a whispered voice calls.

Opening my eyes, I glance around and find the forest empty. But a hand comes through the tree and pulls me, hard. I lose my grip on Excalibur as I’m dragged from this world into another. My body burns and I scream as it feels like my blood has turned molten in my veins. The last thing I see before everything goes dark is my Gwen’s beautiful smile and Arthur’s shining eyes.

Gwen

I don’t know how long I sit there, on the hardwood floor of Lance’s old room. I’m numb, heartbroken, ruined—again. But this time he didn’t leave me for another woman. This time, I’m not the only one losing him. We’re all losing the man he is to the evil that was forced inside him.

Frustration and anger burn in my chest, a ball of fire growing with every breath I take. If he’d stayed maybe I could’ve found a way to stop the demon blood from taking over. My magic, though different from what I’m used to having and still hard to control, is growing every day. Who knows what might’ve been possible with the help of the local coven?

“Gwen?” I nearly jump out of my skin at the sound of his voice. But it’s the wrong man calling my name. Brooks stands in the doorway, concern etched on his handsome features.

“He left. Lance is gone.” My throat closes around the words, making them end on a choked sob.

He crosses the room and takes my hand, pulling me up and into his arms. “It’s for the best.”

I push back and stare at him. “What did you say?”

“There was nothing we could have done to help him. It’s best that he left.”

“No. Him being gone is not the best. Him being gone means my heart is shattered and part of me left with him. Him being gone means regardless of whether we stop the apocalypse or not, my world is ending.”

He holds me tighter, not letting me get away. “I’m sorry you’re hurting.”

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to let go.” More tears fall and I wish I had some way of forgetting. Before I can stop myself, I bury my face in Brooks’ warm chest and clutch at his back, needing something real and true to ground myself.

“I’ve got you, Gwen. I promise.” He scoops me into the cradle of his arms and presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll love you, if you let me.”

Can I love them both? If Brooks is truly Arthur reincarnated, don’t I already? I nod, and stare into his eyes. With my heart freshly broken open, I make a decision here and now. I let him in. I’ve seen our future and it’s one of happiness. More importantly, there is a future to hope for rather than the end of the world.

Lancelot made my choice for me. He left for my own good, because he didn’t have faith I could help him.

Brooks frowns, a question in his eyes, but I whisper, “Kiss me,” and he doesn’t need me to repeat myself. He drops his lips to mine and for the first time, his kiss means more than I thought it could. It’s a connection, a promise, and something real in a world filled with pain and tragedy.

This man, beautiful, strong, and loyal, is giving me his heart when mine has stopped working. He stops our kiss and walks us out of the room, kicking the door shut behind him. I wonder briefly if he’s expecting to take me to bed, but he carries me downstairs instead. Depositing me on the kitchen counter, he presses a soft kiss to my lips and caresses my cheek.

“First, breakfast. Then we need to make a plan,” he says.

“A plan for what?”

“We still have to stop Lucifer from opening all the seals. Without Excalibur to help us, that’s going to be decidedly more challenging.”

My heart clenches. He’s right. I’m practically a little witchling with my magic so erratic, and we have nothing but his Nephilim power. Excalibur was our big gun.

He puts the kettle on and grabs us each a mug. “I’ll call the coven and see what they can do. Rachel might have a contingency plan in place.”

“Why would she have that?”

“She’s always prepared for every eventuality.” He shrugs, then sighs. “And Anya mentioned Lance’s aura was clouded. I believe they attributed it to his conflicted feelings toward you, but perhaps it was the bargain he’d made.”

Hurt courses through me. A bargain he made because of me. “I don’t kn—” My words cut off because I can’t breathe. A rush of power hits me straight in the chest, flowing through my veins like cold water through a glacial river path. My spine bows and my head is thrown back as my vision turns white and I lose control of my body.

“Gwen! Holy fuck, Gwen!” I hear Brooks before I can see him, but slowly, my vision returns.

He’s staring wide-eyed. The kettle whistles on the stove, but neither of us acknowledge it. “What was that?” he asks.

“I think…I think I just got my power back.”

With shaking hands, I gesture to the kettle and murmur a soft incantation. It raises off the burner and settles on an iron trivet in the middle of the stove. The whistling dies down until there’s no sound other than the ticking of the Grandfather clock in the hall.

“How?” Brooks asks.

“I’m not sure. It had been contained in a moonstone, but we had no clue where it was.”

“Do you think Lancelot—”

“I don’t see how.”

A tickling sensation builds in my belly, growing stronger with each passing second. “Shit. Brooks?”

He raises his eyebrows. “All right?”

“I’ll be back. I’m being summoned.”

“Summoned?”

But, before I can answer him, I’m gone and my sisters, my coven, stand before me.

“About fucking time,” Helena says, hand on her hip. “What the hell just happened?”