Page 43 of The Sword & the Stone

I shook my head, denying his words even as a sickening sense of certainty settled into my bones. "No. No, that can't be true. My parents died protecting me from the fire. They weren't?—”

Merlin's voice was gentle, almost apologetic, as he continued. "Your parents did die protecting you. But not from the fire itself. They stood between you and the mercenaries, refusing to let them harm you. And that's when your magic awakened."

He paused, his gaze distant as if lost in the memory. "It was like nothing I've ever seen before or since, and I was barely a boy. It was a burst of pure, raw power that incinerated the mercenaries where they stood."

I sat frozen, horror and disbelief warring within me. I wanted to deny it, to scream that it was all a lie. But deep down, in a place I'd long tried to bury, I knew he spoke the truth. Flashes of memory assaulted me—the acrid stench of burning flesh, the searing heat of flames licking at my skin, my mother's terrified face illuminated by an otherworldly glow.

"The fire spread quickly," Merlin continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "Fueled by your magic and the dry summer air, it consumed everything in its path. Houses, crops, livestock...and people. But it happened so fast there was no stopping it."

I was aware that I was unraveling. My stomach churned violently, and I lurched to my feet, staggering away from the fire, away from the knights and their shocked, pitying gazes.

I made it only a few steps before my knees buckled and I collapsed, retching onto the cold stone floor. Sobs tore from my throat, ugly and wretched, as I curled in on myself. The memories assaulted me now, no longer content to linger in the shadows of my mind.

Screams of terror and agony. The sickening stench of charred flesh. Flames climbing higher and higher, painting the night sky an ominous orange. And at the center of it all, a child with glowing eyes and magic pouring from her fingertips.

Me. I had done this. I had orphaned my friends, destroyed my village, murdered my own parents. All because I couldn't control the cursed power inside me.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I choked out, lifting my tear-stained face to look at Merlin. He had followed me, kneeling just out of reach with a stricken expression. "All these years, you knew what I'd done. What I was. Why keep it from me?"

“Because that’s the thing—Ididn’tknow. Not until the day we left Camelot. Gaius took you from those flames. He’s been watching you ever since. But it wouldn’t have changed anything, Arthur. Even if I’d known I wouldn’t have said a word.” He reached out as if to touch me, but let his hand fall short, curling it into a fist at his side. "I would have wanted to protect you from that pain, from the guilt I knew would consume you if you remembered. You’d already lost so much that night."

I shook my head, a bitter laugh bubbling up my raw throat. "So instead Gaius lied to me? And you’ve had all this time to tell me, and kept silent? Secrets never stay buried. I thought you, of all people, were smart enough to know that."

Merlin flinched, but I couldn't find it in myself to regret it. The betrayal cut deep, made all the more painful by the love I still held for him despite everything.Why did I have to feel like this about him? Why did I still love him?

"I'm so fucking sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking on my name. "I thought I was doing what was best for you.”

I pushed myself to my feet, wiping angrily at the tears that wouldn't seem to stop falling. "You took my choice away. My right to know the truth about myself, about what I'd done. I may have been a child then, but I’ve been a woman for a long time.Gaius had no right, and you should have run to me the second you knew. It’s what I would have done for you. You’ve had plenty of time to break it to me like the friend I thought you were.”

Chapter Fourteen

GALAHAD

I’d beento Dead Man’s Path only once, centuries ago, but never crossed it. I’d heard the legends though, and knew nothing good could come of this. Arthur’s next trial was bound to test her in ways the first trial hadn’t. She was still learning. Still new to magic.

When she’d gone into the pond the day before, I hadn’t thought twice before leaping in after her. She’d been in some sort of trance, and couldn’t hear any of us shouting her name. But when we emerged on the other side, gasping for air, I realized we’d left Albion and entered Avalon for the first time in centuries.

I could still taste the sweetness of the air and feel the rightness of it. I’d spent the last seven centuries longing for Avalon, unable to return until the once and future king was found. But I could feel the pull of my homeland in the marrow of my fucking bones. It called to me, begging me to return.

She’d given that moment to me. Arthur, our glorious queen, gave me my home back if only for those brief moments, and she’d never know what that meant to me.

I could have stayed in Avalon. There was nothing pulling me back to the other side, or forcing me to continue the quest for the Holy Grail. I could have walked for days and nights until I reached the Seelie Court. Until I reached the family I left behind so long ago. I could have walked into the arms of my brothers and placed a kiss on my mother’s head.

But I chose to come back. I chose Arthur, and not a single part of me regretted that choice. The same choice Tristan, Gawain, and Merlin had also made.

As we trudged through the wood, the hours seemed to stretch on endlessly. I found myself longing for the simple comforts of Camelot. A warm meal, a soft bed, and a pint of ale that didn't taste like it had been brewed by mischievous pixies. I said as much, making Gawain groan and rub his stomach. Tristan threw a glove at the side of my face and told me to stop teasing him.

"You know, Galahad," Arthur said, glancing back at me with a playful smirk, "for an immortal fae knight, you sure do complain a lot."

I raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. "Excuse me, my lady, but I've been traipsing through these woods for centuries. I think I've earned the right to a little griping."

Arthur laughed, the sound like chimes in the wind, and I couldn't stop my answering smile. Day by day, I was growing fonder of our pretty queen. My cock thickened every time my eyes strayed to the curve of her ass as it bounced in her saddle, or the little noises she made as she slept.

I was immensely jealous of Gawain. He’d touched her the way I’d imagined a hundred times already, making her sick cunt clench around his fingers. I’d forced him to recount the littletryst in detail, so I could savor it and hope that one day soon, she might let me touch her too.

As we continued on, I sensed a presence nearby—a stag—its energy pulsing in a way only I could sense. I reached out with my mind, gently brushing against the creature's consciousness. It startled for a moment, then relaxed as it recognized my touch.

Through the stag's eyes, I saw the world in a swirl of colors and scents. The greens of the leaves were more vibrant, the earthy smell of the soil richer. It bounded ahead of us, its powerful legs carrying it swiftly through the underbrush.

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