Page 37 of To Love a Dark Lord

So his.

Gwendolyn still clutched the necklace he had fashioned for Zoe in her hand. He gently took it from her before dissolving it, returning the iron and the magic back to himself. He would never make that mistake again.

It seemed so foolish in the first place, looking back at his decisions over the past few months since Gwendolyn’s arrival in Avalon. How childish he had been. How weak. Never again. No, it was finally time for him to become the monster that Avalon believed him to be.

No one would ever think to oppose him again.

Carefully, he scooped Gwendolyn up into his arms. She would be fine. Witches and wizards of Avalon had the same unnatural healing capabilities as the elementals. The Ancients knew that Gwendolyn’s irritating predecessor certainly would have been wiped from the face of the isle if not for it.

He kissed her forehead gently where it rested against his shoulder. “Let us go home, my love.” His love, and soon to be his wife.

But first, he had a small matter to deal with.

The matter of exterminating all the elementals of Avalon. All those who lived today…and all those who would follow. One by one. Forever.

Until the end of time.

Or his life.

Gwen woke up slowly, groaning as she did. Her head hurt. She expected to wake up on a cold stone floor, or potentially half in a pool of water. But she wasn’t. She was lying on soft grass. The sun was setting, and there was a crackle of fire from beside her. She blinked and rubbed her eyes. “What the…”

“Welcome back, firefly.”

The voice startled her out of her grogginess. She sat up way too quickly, her head spinning. She groaned again, putting her hands to her temples.

Mordred chuckled. “You are mending quickly, but you should take it slow.”

Taking a few slow, deep breaths, she focused on not throwing up or passing out again. When she could see straight, she looked up. There, sitting beside her on a fallen log, was Mordred. He was wearing black slacks and a black, loosely tied linen shirt. But he still wore his typical gauntlets, the iron armor running up his arms to his shoulders.

God, he was beautiful.

A rock lodged in her throat. She couldn’t speak. She didn’t know what to say. She simply threw herself into his arms, clutching him close.

He scooped her up into his lap, holding her tight as she began to cry. He shushed her gently, kissing the top of her head. “I am here, my love. I am here. You were successful. I am free. We are free.”

Wrapping her arms around behind his neck, she kissed him. She had been so terrified she’d never be able to do that again—never be able to hold him. Her heart was full of too many emotions all at once. Happiness. Joy at having him back with her. Love for him. Fear about what he was going to do. And a deep dread of what she’d be forced to do in return.

“I would soothe your worries another way, but I believe we are both too injured for such a foray.” Mordred smiled at her before vanishing his gauntlets to stroke her tears away.

“Yeah.” Though that wasn’t to say she wasn’t tempted. She watched him for a moment, studying his features and his rust-colored eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I am.” He paused. “As for my convictions—they remain the same, if that is what you were asking.”

It was.

“I will protect you. I will protect Avalon. This game I have played with the elementals must go on no longer. I am sorry for the grief the death will cause you.” He rested his palm against her cheek. “But better that than to see your beloved villagers murdered en masse, no?”

She shut her eyes, not being able to help but sink into his touch. It felt so damn good. “I just wish it didn’t have to be this way. There has to be some other option.”

“I have spent a thousand years attempting to find just that. But perhaps you will see the way forward where I have been unable to discover it.” He kissed her forehead tenderly. “And should you come up with such a scheme, I vow I will listen to it.”

At least he hadn’t gone full murderous despot and had a little bit of reason left in him. Well, hadn’t gone full murderous despot yet. There was still time. She rested her head on his shoulder. It was strange to fear him and love him in equal measure. She was having a damn hard time wrapping her head around how both could be possible simultaneously.

She supposed it had to do with the fact that she trusted him not to hurt her. It was just everybody else who was fucked. “What about Galahad? And Zoe, I guess.”

“Hm. From your tone, I take it she did not give you the necklace willingly?”

“No. She tried—” She stopped short of telling Mordred that Zoe had tried to kill her. That would be an instant death sentence for the Gossamer Lady. “—to stop me from setting you free.” That was still the truth. Just not all of it.

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