Page 30 of To Love a Dark Lord

“I—I can’t—” She shook her head. “I can’t tell you to…to go on a murderous rampage, and I can’t tell you to stay in here and die. I love you. Both of you—all of you.” She bit back tears again, her voice cracking from the effort of it.

“And you need me.” The Prince in Iron watched her keenly from where he still lay on the floor. “Can you really watch as I dissolve in here, consumed by my own mind?”

She wavered. “No.”

“Can you condemn all the elementals to a certain death?” his human half countered.

Shutting her eyes, she wanted to scream. “No.”

“It’s all right, Gwendolyn. I am going to win this fight.” The knight walked up to her, the echo of his footsteps on the stone walls surrounding her. She couldn’t look. But when he placed his fingertips to her jawline, gentle and sweet, he tilted her head up to him. There was such love in his eyes, such kindness. This was the man he had once been, long ago. “And you will be all right. You and I can dream together. It will be a slow, painless death. And after that, you may dream of me whenever you like.”

“But—it wouldn’t be real.”

“I will always be with you. One way or another. Because I love you. And I will always be in your heart and in your mind, even after I am gone. You must let me go, Gwendolyn. Please.”

When she went to protest, Mordred’s human half kissed her. It was filled with so much love, so much kindness, she finally lost her fight with her tears.

Could she really say goodbye?

Could she really let Mordred die?

The human Mordred lurched in front of her. She blinked in confusion, and pulled her head back to see what was wrong.

Four tips of clawed fingers jutted from the knight’s throat. The iron Mordred had snuck up on him from the back…and rammed his fingers straight through his human counterpart’s neck.

Blood began to run from the gashes and disappeared underneath the knight’s armor.

Gwen gasped and staggered backwards.

The elemental ripped his claws from the knight’s throat. The blond Mordred collapsed to the ground in a heap. His green eyes glassy and empty. Dead.

“To think I was ever such a fool.” Mordred flicked his hand, sending bits of gore to the stone beside him. He cracked his neck to one side and then to the other. “Well. Now that is concluded, shall we pick up where we left off?” He smiled at her, a devious flicker to his eyes. “There is nothing to stop us now, my love.” He reached his hand out for her.

This was all her fault.

And she’d come too far to stop now. Mordred had done this because of her. He was becoming this monster for her. She couldn’t turn her back on him. She couldn’t reject her love for him. Squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, sending a new line of tears down her cheeks, she took a deep breath and steeled herself.

“I am as I ever was. Only now, I am no longer split by indecision. No part of me has died today, my lady.”

“Tell that to the guy on the floor.” She gestured aimlessly at the corpse.

“He was not real. Simply another figment of my tortured mind.” Mordred stepped over his own fallen self to pull her into an embrace. “This was merely…a rather spectacular internal debate.”

Maybe. Or, maybe it was something more. She didn’t fight him, but rested her cheek against his chest, feeling the ridges of the twisting vine artwork that covered his jagged armor. He stroked her hair gently. “I need you to wake up, just enough to allow me to follow. Describe to me where you fell asleep.”

“In a clearing by a fire. I made a bedroll out of some fabric I summoned using my magic. I don’t know what I’m capable of yet.” She shut her eyes again, trying to recall all the details.

“I look forward to helping you find out,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that she felt just as much as she heard.

“I fell asleep watching the stars. They’re so different to the ones from home, but they’re just as beautiful.” She pictured them, flickering high above. She could feel the ground beneath her, the lumps in the grass and the one rock she’d managed to miss, which was digging into her thigh. The fire had died and was now just flickering embers.

Mordred was quiet for a long moment. “I am somewhere I cannot see the stars. I am deep under the ground. I am…submerged.” His voice sounded far away and dreamy. “I—” He stopped suddenly, and barked a laugh that jolted her out of her half-awake state and back into the dream.

He let go of her to turn toward the ruins of Camelot. “Of course!” He laughed hard as if someone had just played a brilliant prank on him. “Of course! How could I not see it before?”

“I—Mordred?” She swallowed a lump in her throat. Had the rest of his mind shattered?

“I have been trying to tell myself where I am this entire time. I have known it, somewhere, buried deep.” He sighed and stared up at the broken beams overhead. “I truly am an idiot. Where else would they hide me? Where else would Galahad send me? To Camelot, of course.” He turned toward her and closed the distance between them in a split second. He placed his palm to her cheek, the metal of his claws resting against her skin. His expression was so intense it scared her. “There is a lake, deep beneath the castle ruins. I am there. The entrance is in the tomb. Come find me. Come set me free. And then nothing and no one will ever stand between us again.”

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